It begins, or maybe it ends, or maybe both
Before the winter of 2014 my family had settled in a cul-de-sac new construction house we had customized with the builder. It was in Fort Mill, SC, a suburb of Charlotte just across the state line from NC, about a fifteen minute drive to my job. We had an older black Mercedes Benz wagon parked next to a mighty minivan outside a three-car garage. In summer I kept the grass neatly cut, and a poop scoop service with a punny name came each week to clean up after my neighbor-irritating doggies. In cold weather we'd go out to the Towne Tavern for wings doused in varying degrees of hot sauce, mashed potatoes, meatloafs, and good, cold beer. Life was easy and comfortable. Dull and routine, some would say, but very comfortable. So it happened Caroline, my wife, and I let this idea take hold between us, which was finding a job in Europe and moving there. I worked for Microsoft, a company sitting on a mountain of cash, so surely they wouldn't have a problem footing the bill ...