Houses

Poo.
The Realtor came over yesterday. The house was perfect. Truly. Chris, Neesi, Betty, Grabo have done a fabulous wonderful job of cleaning, painting, and spifi-fying. Into my beautiful home, this woman comes carrying her market assessments and a very critical eye. --I really don't like this woman. But, she sells more houses in this area than all the other realtors combined.

We've been working on this home for 15 years. We've sunk well over $200K into the repairs and renovations. What was her assessment? Sink another $700 into repairing the basement and list it for $179K.

So, the question I'm asking on this absolutely gorgeous summer morning; as I listen to the cacophony of birds outside my window; as I watch the sun caress the leaves of the maple tree; as I breathe the moist air perfumed with pine needles... the question I ask is no longer how much is my house worth. But, how much am I willing to lose in order to sell it? I know what I gain by moving into Milwaukee. I get to be closer to all those things that I have missed ... grocery stores, pizza delivery, walking to a coffee shop. I gain access to museums and the lake front. I gain access to my favoritest little boys. I gain freedom from the snowy, blowy, decrepit country roads. I gain many things. But, how much am I willing to lose? Do I have the courage to swap what I have for the mystery house behind door number 3?

a sulky, blue-grey
anti-mom