JB had the brilliant foresight to hop on the property ladder at twenty-three, becoming the first home owner in his family and I became the shared benefactor .  Five years before meeting me, and fresh out of Boston University’s College of Engineering, he risked a high-interest rate loan and cashed in any possessions of value, including a treasured stereo and a motorcycle that was his only non-public mode of transport.  He managed to cobble together enough funds for a one-bedroom (twin size!) apartment in a historic Back Bay brownstone. 

Among other improvements, JB painstakingly restored the original cherry fireplace surround and mantel buried under layers of lead paint.  When he returned from a year-long work assignment in upstate New York, future best-man Jim, who was temporarily subletting the apartment, proved too lethargic to move.  So with his sights firmly fixed on climbing the next rung of the property ladder, JB sold his condo to Jim which proved to be the path of least resistance for both of them.  The profits cleared JB’s self-financed education and enabled the purchase of his South End condo that would become the site of our future enchanting second date.  

The first property we purchased together was an 820 square foot apartment with just one bedroom and with a tiny kitchen tucked under the stairway to the upper floors of the building.

However, the condo was a gloriously appointed Victorian, graced with 11-foot ceilings and an oval double parlor. It was adorned with intricately detailed cornices, two marble fireplaces, and elegant tall windows that filled the space with light.  The rooms were laid out “enfilade;” one leading to another and separated by grand pocket doors. Because all the windows were too large in scale for store-bought curtains, I made them by hand with skills passed down to me from my mother.  I never suspected that ten years later, these same skills would enable me to exit corporate America and create my own custom window treatment design and fabrication business.  

During that first year living in the Victorian condo, we spent one fateful evening at the dining table sipping too many bottles of cheap white zinfandel with our friend Jim.  After several hours of increasingly fuzzy discussion, we all agreed to purchase a South End single family townhouse and convert it into a two-family residence.

The arduous process of executing the plan taught all of us many critical skills and perseverance.  I’ll never forget the first Thanksgiving when the three of us were living amid the construction chaos, sharing one bathroom and one barely usable kitchen. We could only find the “beaters,” and not the actual hand-mixer, to make whipped cream for the pumpkin pie.  JB managed to attach a single beater to a readily available construction drill and carried on.  Several, years later when Jim relocated for a new job, we bought him out and for a few years, rented out the second apartment. After legally converting the properties to condominiums we sold both and moved on to the next project.

We continued the strategy of renovating and flipping properties together seven more times over the next three decades.

This led us from one “up and coming” Boston neighborhood to another, as well as a five year hiatus from the city in the charming seaside town of Hull just across Boston’s harbor.  Repeating my ancestral and early childhood pattern of leaving one place for another, was stressful, invigorating, and transformational.

We loved discovering new running routes, restaurants, and local shops.  Even in a small city like Boston, each neighborhood has a distinct history and culture, evidenced by the varying architectural styles and unique vibes.  Each of our new homes required varying degrees of transformation which JB undertook primarily by himself. This often tested both his individual and our joint endurance.

Trips to England, Switzerland, Italy, and Greece offered welcome escapes.  As JB’s marathon competitions became nearly a second career (or third if you count home renovations), ideal race locations in the US and Europe melded with vacation plans.  New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, Zurich, and Berlin were added to our frequent flyer list.  When a compromised hip in his early 50’s began to impact his ability to compete at a world class master’s level, JB reluctantly switched to cycling.  Our travels therefore shifted to locations like the French Alps, the Pyrenees Mountains, and the Côte d’Azure that suited his new avocation, our shared enjoyment of hiking, and my affinity with seaside delights. 

We were often asked how we could simultaneously renovate properties, travel so much, and manage professional careers. 

Our flip response was always: “no kids, no pets, no plants.”  But as Chaucer wisely quipped “many a true word hath been spoken in jest.”  Although we had not set out to eschew traditional commitments, we certainly made choices (for better or worse) that avoided the constraints of conventional family responsibilities. This is not to say that our chosen path has been free from worry, doubts, disappointment, or grief.  Life has a way of making sure that whatever road one takes it will weave through both sunshine and shadow.  But isn’t it the contrast of light and dark that reveals the full depth and beauty of the landscape we traverse? 

To discover how my path joined with my co-conspirator in expat life and wander with us, follow the journey.