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Browsing Tag: selling a house

Yeah, Well, I Suppose So

Someone asked me today, “So, do you still have your house for sale?” “Sort of,” I replied. Yeah. I said sort of. No wonder my acquaintance looked confused. I elaborated.  “Well, there’s a sign in the yard, but we’re not really acting like we’re trying to move.” Then I made a bunch of noise about not having found a house we like yet and haha there’s so much folded laundry in the bedroom waiting to be put away we’re out of luck if we have a sudden showing and we’ll see what happens. What I didn’t say is that I’m still working on the landscaping and we’re going to open the pool in a week or two. Or that we’re going to power wash our wide deck this weekend and arrange the outdoor furniture. Or that Saoirse excitedly pointed out a monarch butterfly yesterday that had alighted on a dandelion flower, and we spent the following 15 minutes discussing how nectar is sort of like juice from flowers and it gives food to buttterflies…

Traffic Control

Easter is a week away.  Did you know that?  Because I didn’t.  I mean, I did–I was sitting in mass yesterday, trying to wrestle a 22-month-old out from under a pew as a priest talked about it, after all–but not in the way it applied to me.  As in, dinner and family and the Easter bunny and children’s sandals and church services.  Had no idea I have just days left until it’s here. Did you know that we missed our cousin’s son’s birthday party yesterday?  Yep.  I know, you’re upset that we’re not members of your family, right? It’s like somebody took all the days of the calendar, shuffled them together like a deck of cards, then dealt us a hand that makes no sense.  And I don’t even like to gamble. There are 13 shrubs of various sizes and shapes sitting outside part of the front of our house, ready to be planted.  This is after David convinced me that yes, the front of our house is in full sun for at least half the…

There’s a Theme Here

I should be cleaning. We have a house to sell, you know. Of course, if more people were coming to see the place, I’d probably be more on top of it.  Right now, though, if someone stopped by, well, I guess he could just pitch in and help me fold this laundry piled up right beside me, here, now, couldn’t he? I should be vacuuming.  Or folding. Or dusting. Again and again and again, over and over.  Saoirse said to me yesterday, “Mommy, you clean a lot. Why do you clean so much?” But at the same, you wouldn’t know it.  Because for each item that I put back in its place, there’s another being yanked off a shelf.  And for every board in the floor I mop, there’s another getting orange juice poured all over it.  I’m washing my hands of it all.  Ha.  Get it?! Washing? I can’t get away from the cleaning even when I’m trying to get away from the cleaning. It’s 78 degrees out right now, under mostly sunny skies and only the lightest of…