Sold
Last week a family from California came to see our house, came back the next day to see it again and bought it the day after that. Two years of trying to sell the house and then it all happened so fast.
When the couple who is buying came to show the house to their parents and grandparents and kids and have the house professionally inspected there was a miscommunication and Rew and I were home, unexpecting. He was asleep on the couch and I was sitting in the driveway with music playing in the garage, eating lunch and thinking about a quick nap before work. The house was generally not ready to be seen with Rew's midnight snack mess strewn in the kitchen and my dirty clothes on the bathroom floor, ect. So I quick pulled things together and left the house while all these people I do not know flooded in, were literally climbing on the roof and peeking in all the rooms and talking about how they were going to change it.
I didn't have anywhere to go at the moment; my mom was gone with the car and I had to go back to the house shortly to get ready for work. Rew walked to a friend's house but I just went to a little wooded meadow by our house to wait for the strangers to go away.
I felt like I just had my life pulled out from under me. It sounds drastic, but I hit a pretty low point then.
This was never supposed to have happened. This was supposed to be home always. I was supposed to bring my kids here to see grandma and grandpa and tell them stories about what happened here when I was a little girl. But things are nothing like that. They are all wrong.
If I were to use the ever popular 'wounded' metaphor--the wounds from my parents divorce have healed pretty well over the past 7 years, but like any deep wound, it left a scar and when the weather gets is wrong, even scars can get a little sore. That's where I'm at right now. Leaving the home I grew up in for good is bad weather, I'm a little sore.
And since this post is a low note anyways, I'll throw this out there, too: I am real sick of fending for myself all the time and not having anyone I can really count on. I'm in this weird limbo state where I'm pretty independent, but I don't feel supported or that I have somebody to take care of me when I need to be taken care of. Really I think this would be fixed if my dad was in my life more. A few short phone calls a month aren't doing it for me. He calls like it's his job, but doesn't seem to really care. That or if I had a man in my life filling that role in a different way. But that's not what this is about, don't get me wrong.
There are the things I need to remember if I am a parent. What not to do. But then, doesn't every person say they won't do what their parents did and then they end up being just like them anyways? Seriously, that's one of my greatest fears. I pray better things for my future.
Anyways... Our closing is a week and a half before school gets underway again, so I need to work on packing my things, lightening my load again and figuring out what's going to happen in those homeless couple weeks. My mom is looking at two bedroom houses for her and Rew--I won't have a place in the new place. I mean, I'll be welcome there and I'm sure I'll sleep on the couch and help them get settled there but....ugh, It's just all wrong.
The tomato plants are enormous and have little green fruits on them. I'm pretty proud, having started them from seeds almost a half year ago now. I was eying this strainer/masher/cooker thing for in the hardware store. Thought maybe I'd come home over Tri-State and do some canning. I guess that's gonna have to wait until I put down roots somewhere else. I did get a chance to talk to the woman who is moving in. She really likes fresh tomatoes, but isn't much for gardening. I think I was in denial about the house selling when I insisted we have a garden this summer....
Ok, thats enough. End angst-y post.
PS I will post about Pitchfork Festival when I can upload photos.
When the couple who is buying came to show the house to their parents and grandparents and kids and have the house professionally inspected there was a miscommunication and Rew and I were home, unexpecting. He was asleep on the couch and I was sitting in the driveway with music playing in the garage, eating lunch and thinking about a quick nap before work. The house was generally not ready to be seen with Rew's midnight snack mess strewn in the kitchen and my dirty clothes on the bathroom floor, ect. So I quick pulled things together and left the house while all these people I do not know flooded in, were literally climbing on the roof and peeking in all the rooms and talking about how they were going to change it.
I didn't have anywhere to go at the moment; my mom was gone with the car and I had to go back to the house shortly to get ready for work. Rew walked to a friend's house but I just went to a little wooded meadow by our house to wait for the strangers to go away.
I felt like I just had my life pulled out from under me. It sounds drastic, but I hit a pretty low point then.
This was never supposed to have happened. This was supposed to be home always. I was supposed to bring my kids here to see grandma and grandpa and tell them stories about what happened here when I was a little girl. But things are nothing like that. They are all wrong.
If I were to use the ever popular 'wounded' metaphor--the wounds from my parents divorce have healed pretty well over the past 7 years, but like any deep wound, it left a scar and when the weather gets is wrong, even scars can get a little sore. That's where I'm at right now. Leaving the home I grew up in for good is bad weather, I'm a little sore.
And since this post is a low note anyways, I'll throw this out there, too: I am real sick of fending for myself all the time and not having anyone I can really count on. I'm in this weird limbo state where I'm pretty independent, but I don't feel supported or that I have somebody to take care of me when I need to be taken care of. Really I think this would be fixed if my dad was in my life more. A few short phone calls a month aren't doing it for me. He calls like it's his job, but doesn't seem to really care. That or if I had a man in my life filling that role in a different way. But that's not what this is about, don't get me wrong.
There are the things I need to remember if I am a parent. What not to do. But then, doesn't every person say they won't do what their parents did and then they end up being just like them anyways? Seriously, that's one of my greatest fears. I pray better things for my future.
Anyways... Our closing is a week and a half before school gets underway again, so I need to work on packing my things, lightening my load again and figuring out what's going to happen in those homeless couple weeks. My mom is looking at two bedroom houses for her and Rew--I won't have a place in the new place. I mean, I'll be welcome there and I'm sure I'll sleep on the couch and help them get settled there but....ugh, It's just all wrong.
The tomato plants are enormous and have little green fruits on them. I'm pretty proud, having started them from seeds almost a half year ago now. I was eying this strainer/masher/cooker thing for in the hardware store. Thought maybe I'd come home over Tri-State and do some canning. I guess that's gonna have to wait until I put down roots somewhere else. I did get a chance to talk to the woman who is moving in. She really likes fresh tomatoes, but isn't much for gardening. I think I was in denial about the house selling when I insisted we have a garden this summer....
Ok, thats enough. End angst-y post.
PS I will post about Pitchfork Festival when I can upload photos.