This post has been a long time coming, and I’m not just talking about how little I’ve been blogging of late. No, it’s been a long time coming because I’m typing it from my new dining room, looking out my new windows, upon my new view.
It’s pretty nice to be here, let me tell you. Continue reading
One of the wonderful things about my life is how many traditions I have with my family and friends. Creating traditions is what grounds me to the good stuff, ya know? And so, its a bit of a downer to admit how many traditions aren’t going to happen this year.
Amazing what a difference a year makes.
If you’ve been reading this blog (and thank you, by the way if you have!) you know that my family moved from our home of 10 years and are building a new one. There are lots of great reasons to do something like this but it also can cause issues and obstacles to occur. Continue reading
There’s this notion that having only one of a thing is a good thing. Of course, that notion flies in the face of the adage “you can never have enough of too much of a good thing” and probably a whole host of other idioms that are not coming to my coffee-free mind as of yet.
Now that I’ve had my first sip of French Roast, I should probably amend that paragraph.
According to the common idioms of life in the US, it is very confusing as which is more beneficial: having a whole bunch of something, or having only one of them. I’m guessing the deal-breaker goes to quality over quantity. And that is the wonderful aspect of one that I’m talking about.
When Mister Soandso and I were packing up things, we got to the point where time was in shorter supply than we wanted. I refuse to get to the “black plastic bags” level of packing, so we just got more coffee and packed faster. But I swore to Mister Soandso that just because we were moving two boxes labelled “bathroom” to our apartment, I would not be moving more than one box to the new house. Continue reading
I waxed another woman’s floor today.*
Back when we were still in the showing and hoping part of the home selling process, I met the woman who ultimately bought our house. Her agent had scheduled a 9 am showing, which I thought was insane but agreed to in that ever present “maybe this will be the one” state of mental insanity known as home selling. That morning, I had approximately 17 minutes to get the litter box emptied, carry out the garbage and make one last pass with the vacuum and I was moving fast. That is, until Charlie, aka Charles Barkey, went ballistic in the front room.
Now, one thing to know about our dog is that his ballistic proclivities are not necessarily an indication of a horde of zombies on the front porch. It could actually be a cat on the sidewalk across the street. However, the more concussive his barking, the more likely the intruder is nearing the front door. At this point, my ear drums were throbbing and he was running from one window to another. There may have been saliva flying.
A quick peek out the window confirmed that the potential buyers were indeed at my home at 8:43 in the freaking morning. I quickly decided that anyone that impatient for a showing deserved potential clumps of Lucy fur on the bedroom carpet. So I leashed up Charlie and left the house. Continue reading
Summer is always a busy time for me, but this summer is making most summers look peaceful by comparison. Several months ago, Mister Soandso and I decided to sell our house. It is a long story made more interesting with liberal application of wine, but we are happy with our new plan for housing which includes but is not limited to the words: building, permits, construction, sub-division, &*^%, and storage unit.
We first started thinking about downsizing (primarily our mortgage payment rather than our square footage) last year and the whole family was largely on board with the notion of reducing the number of our possessions and such things. But as we got past the point of abstraction, it quickly became clear that not everyone was in the same place of boarding the “less is more” train. Continue reading
The Mister Soandso and I are selling our house. This is our third house so this isn’t my first time at the rodeo, so to speak. But this rodeo feels different. Like instead of goofy clowns and angry bulls, the clowns all extras from a King novel and the bulls are all ex pats from Spain. It’s a dangerous world, this house selling business!
The first house I sold, Oldest was a toddler. Like an 18 month old version of toddlerdom. For the most part, my job was to pack him up and take him somewhere for the open house. It was 2001 and houses were selling like tasty hotcakes in Minneapolis. We sold that adorable house practically before the sign went up in the front yard. Continue reading
I know that according to my bio, I may appear to be one of those creative types, but that appearance is much better on paper than in real life. No whimsical long skirts or beaded necklaces here. No clouds of patchouli or dread locks. Nope, I look like I could be an accountant or maybe a cashier at the grocery store.
What’s more, I never have been a poster child for creativity. I was a serious child who didn’t play like other kids. I didn’t play with dolls much, I didn’t dream about my future husband and plan out my children whom I would name Sebastian and Josephine. I didn’t create play worlds out of my Tinker-Toys and Lego. I was a strange little child, indeed. Continue reading