House and pet sitting? How the heck did that happen, and why now?

I’m glad you asked. I’ve collected a lot of hobbies over the years, but the one that’s been calling the loudest for the past decade is travel. I crave it—not for luxury or escape, but for inspiration. Travel feeds my creativity, and creativity feeds my soul. Honestly, I don’t even care where I go. I just want to see new places, feel new rhythms, and soak in the everyday magic of unfamiliar communities.

I’m also scouting potential places for Brandon and I to live once full retirement hits. But vacationing doesn’t cut it. Vacations show you the polished version of a place—like meeting someone on their best behavior. I want to skip the performance and meet the real deal. That’s why house and pet sitting is such a perfect fit. I get to immerse myself in a community, experience daily life, and snuggle someone’s dog while I’m at it. Win-win.

I found my first house sit through TrustedHousesitters—an incredible website that connects travelers with pet owners who need someone to love on their animals while they’re away. (Full disclosure: I get two free months of membership when someone signs up through my link—another win-win!)

I have a dual membership, which means I can both apply to sit at other people’s homes and list my own home when we need someone to watch our beagles. It’s beautifully simple: I pick the location, the timeframe I’m available, and browse through the available sits around the world.

Why now, with everything else going on?

Like most things in life, house sitting can be competitive—especially in high-demand places like Hawaii or Italy, where listings get flooded with applications. Brandon and I still have a few years before we can travel with fewer restrictions, so I’m using this time to build up my house-sitting resume. By taking on sits in less competitive areas now, I’m stacking up reviews and experience that will eventually open doors to those dream destinations.

More importantly, travel has become a form of self-care—a way to step outside the stress of caregiving and reconnect with myself. Even short trips offer me a mental reset, a breath of fresh air, and a reminder that joy still exists alongside the hard stuff.

For my very first one, I chose New Orleans, Louisiana.

Brandon and I have wanted to visit NOLA for years. We even had a trip booked in 2020—but, as with many plans that year, Covid had other ideas.

This time around, I had a clear set of goals:

• Go somewhere that’s been on our bucket list
• Find a low-maintenance dog to ease into the house-sitting world
• Spend as little money as possible
• Keep the trip to five days—perfect for when Grace would be with her dad
• Come home feeling refreshed, not like I need a vacation from my vacation

Haunted Hotel, Party of Two

Brandon was still in Montana while I was in Salt Lake leading up to the trip, so we booked separate flights and met up in New Orleans. I snagged the cheapest options I could find—round-trip tickets for both of us came to about $550 total. The flights were the biggest expense of the trip. In the future, we’d probably opt to drive for the added adventure, but with Grace in chemo, our travel window was limited.

We also decided to stay in a hotel the first night instead of heading straight to the house sit. Totally optional—but we had one goal in mind: stay in a haunted hotel.

Naturally, I picked Place d’Armes, known for its ghostly reputation and prime location in the French Quarter. And yes… it delivered.

Around 6 a.m., I was jolted awake by a loud banging sound. I sat straight up, heart pounding, and just as I was scanning the room, a bright flash of light caught the corner of my eye. It was enough to kickstart my nervous system faster than a double espresso from Cafe Du Monde. I told myself it was probably just a dream, or my imagination. I lay there wide-eyed for several minutes before finally nudging Brandon awake—because yes, I was officially freaked out. (I know. I’m a total sissy.)

About an hour later, I wandered over to the vanity area—where I’d seen the flash. There were no windows in that part of the room, just a full-length mirror… or so I thought. When I got closer, I realized it was actually a closet door. I opened it—and the closet light turned on automatically. Mystery solved, right?

Except… who or what opened and slammed the door?

Cue full-body goosebumps.

I called Brandon over and showed him my little discovery. He remained skeptical. Can’t say I blame him—I’d probably react the same way if I hadn’t seen it myself.

But then—plot twist.

Just then, with the hair on the back of my neck standing straight up and Brandon right behind me, I half-joked (I was totally not joking):
“Okay ghost, I come in peace. Just please don’t touch me.”

At that exact moment, the vanity light flicked on… and off.

I whipped around, wide-eyed, and screamed at Brandon, “You saw that too, right?!”

His expression said it all.
Ghost encounter in NOLA: check.

Arrival & a Slightly Alarming Welcome

After checking out of the hotel, we headed to the house sit to drop our bags and meet our furry roommate. As soon as we arrived, we got our first hint that this wasn’t the safest part of town: the Lyft driver asked if we were from the area. When we said no, he gently suggested we not wander too far on foot—and that we stay indoors if we hear gunshots.

Um, okay then.

The front door was locked up tighter than Fort Knox, but once inside, we were greeted by a sweet-faced golden doodle named Bodie. He welcomed us with wagging enthusiasm and zero hesitation. We exchanged formalities (as one does with a dog), and then took him out for one of his two required daily walks—one of our only real responsibilities.

Meet Bodie & Our Simple House Sit Duties

Besides the two daily walks, our duties included:

• Giving him autoimmune therapy drops twice a day
• Feeding him breakfast
• Keeping the doors locked (easy)
• Tossing our sheets and towels in the washer before we left

That was it. In exchange, we received five nights of free housing—a savings of roughly $875. Not to mention, Bodie was an absolute delight. Laid-back, well-behaved, and full of soulful eyes. I actually teared up a little when we had to say goodbye.

Adventures in New Orleans

🏛 Whitney Plantation Tour
We took a deeply moving historical tour at the Whitney Plantation, which focuses on the conditions of slavery from the perspective of the enslaved. I left with a dozen new things to research—so much of the history shared there had never been covered in any of my school textbooks. Highly recommend.

🚢 Steamboat Jazz Cruise
One evening, we boarded a steamboat for a sunset cruise along the Mississippi. There was live jazz on the top deck and optional dinner service (we skipped the meal but soaked up the music). As the sun dipped low, Brandon and I shared coffee and bread pudding. It was slow-paced, romantic, and kind of magical.

👻 French Quarter Ghost Tour
We also joined a walking ghost/history tour through the French Quarter—a fun and affordable way to learn about NOLA’s darker past. We heard tales of vampires, hauntings, and some truly disturbing historical torture practices. Chilling and fascinating.

🎷 Preservation Hall
On our last night, we visited Preservation Hall, an intimate venue packed with music and soul. Jazz and blues filled the room in a way that made time stand still. I could’ve gone back every night. I’ve been listening to jazz and blues almost daily since—officially hooked.

The Food: Glorious & Excessive

Of course, we ate. A lot.

Our food bucket list included:

• Beignets
• Gumbo
• Crawfish
• Seafood boil
• Jambalaya
• Red beans and rice
• Po’ boys (dressed dirty, obviously)

Mission accomplished. By night four, I was so full I found myself daydreaming about salad and fresh fruit. Still, the food was incredible.

One thing we learned: most of the seafood in NOLA—crawfish, shrimp, redfish—comes from Lake Pontchartrain, which is actually an estuary, not a lake. Its brackish water (half salt, half fresh) supposedly gives the seafood its unique flavor. Locals swear by it. Also, everyone insists that the seafood is always boiled, never steamed. Although, like many things in NOLA, every new local had a slightly different story.

But one thing remained consistent:
The food in New Orleans is on another level.

Reflections & the Road Ahead

This trip was more than just a getaway—it was a beginning.

Our first house sit showed me that slow, intentional travel isn’t just a dream for “someday.” It’s something I can build now, in between caregiving seasons and family responsibilities. I didn’t need a luxury resort or a jam-packed itinerary to feel recharged. I needed meaningful experiences, local flavor (both culinary and cultural), quality time with my husband, a little ghostly mischief… and a dog named Bodie.

I came home feeling not just rested, but restored—the kind of refreshed that comes from living lightly, eating soulfully, and connecting with a place in its real, unpolished form. This wasn’t a vacation. This was a glimpse into the life I’m creating: one that values connection over consumption, rhythm over routine, and story over status.

And now? I’m hooked. I’m already scouting the next sit.

One step closer to the freedom I’ve been chasing—and the life I’ve been slowly building all along.