9th Street
The 9th Street house was only home for one year, but it was a really good one. If it hadn’t been for yet another terrible landlord, we might have stayed longer. We moved out of the farmhouse into this sweet little one-level home with major retro appeal. It was so well-maintained that it felt like a bit of a time capsule. The kids shared a room, and we all shared a bathroom. It was definitely small, but it was cozy. We rented from an eccentric older gentleman that we assumed to be quirky but generally harmless. As it turned out, he was-to put it mildly- completely unhinged. Our little Sage ended up writing a short novel about him entitled “Dennis the Really Rotten Menace.” (One of her more popular novels from elementary school, second only to the 11-page ‘Divorcing Days” from second grade.) Dennis would show up randomly to complain to Jerry about the height of the blackberry bushes and to check up on us. He also tried to retain our deposit when we moved out, citing floor scratches and wall dings that were truly not there. His 94-year-old mother walked through with him and said she thought the place looked great. Dennis said “Mother, be more discriminating!” We still laugh about that. We went to court with this landlord too, because we knew we took meticulous care of his home. We got our full deposit back and in Sage’s eyes, I was a hero that fought the bad landlord. Win, win.
Before my victory over the ever-nefarious Dennis though, I became Mrs. Nance. Jerry and I took a trip to Las Vegas one long weekend while the kids were at their dad’s house, and we got married at the Little Church of the West. (If it’s good enough got Judy Garland, it’s good enough for me!) I felt that Jerry was my family the moment we first made eye contact, but it was so nice to make it official. We all took a trip to San Diego right after that, and called it a “Familymoon.” The 9th street house was a lovely place to come home to after our adventures.
I can still hear the kids giggling together on the top bunk in their bedroom. Sage and I took turns reading the Little House series aloud together on the bottom bunk. I recall several screenings of Balto, which is secretly Jerry’s favorite film. We played hundreds of games of canasta around a bar height table we found at a yard sale. Wren spent the whole year either talking about or playing Minecraft. I made a giant Creeper out of green paper plates and stuck it on the wall for a Minecraft-themed 9th birthday party. We also had a Harry Potter-themed party for Sage that year- complete with a Moaning Myrtle in the bathroom and a stuffed owl for every kid to take home. As nice as it was, it never felt like it was truly ours- Dennis made sure of that! When our lease was coming to a close, when knew that we didn’t want to rent ever again. Our next move would be to a home of our own.
