I was revisiting the photos from last spring's visit to Pennsylvania's Raccoon Creek State Park, and thinking about the folks that took that wildflower walk with me.
One of our party was quite the daredevil, walking out on over the river on huge cantilevered deadfalls and stepping right up to the bluff's rocky edges. I thought he was nuts. He, I am sure, thought he was living. And we are both right.
I've come to the realization that risk-taking is an essential part of life, but we all pick our risks. I am no less living with my little in-house business and my shaky health care I pay for (and pay more for each year, amazing how fast those things leap in their increases.)
I don't need to do any edge-stepping to get the thrill of being near a long fall. I prefer living quietly.
And here is where I go off on a ramble, care to come with?
This has not been a quiet year.
The house did not sell. Very few folks came to see it. Once the local realtors had been through once, they did not return. All of this I expected. We landed with a realtor who assured us that our house was worth every bit of what others in the area were selling for. (I just shook my head at this, internally at the time.) She also signed us to list with her from May to December. I knew that standard time frame for listings are three months, but I was going along for this ride, and I signed next to Mark's signature.
The listing will be over in two days. Hurrah. Now, if we do somehow manage to sell this place within a set time frame after the listing expires, we will still owe the agent money. How that works, I have no idea, but since it's not likely... I'm not worried.
So for the first half of this year, I was cleaning. I'm a grand pack rat. I don't save everything, but I 'find' things and bring them home because they are so cool. And I do save an awful lot. Under Mark's eye I got down to it and started sifting through stuff, organizing, giving away, throwing away. It was a forced march, but I took it with the best attitude I could. I know this house is full of stuff I don't need. I know I need to evaluate and reduce the junk load. I know. But it's hard. And it was hard to not be able to get out into the garden and spend time there, weeding, watering, just winding down.
After the showings tapered off, so did my clutter-busting. We have put about half of what we own in the garage. Mark built a subfloor for the furniture to keep off the damp, but winter will not be kind. Unfortunately, we can't bring it back. Mark can't stand the house when it's full.
I am a homebody, and I set down roots. When we moved here, it was going to be a short stay. Mark was going to finish school, and we were going to fix the place up and make a little profit and move up. The age of this place makes that unlikely. It was placed in 1972. I'm not sure it complies with ANY of the local codes. The lights flicker. The walls are 2x2. The well needs replacing.
We put a lot of work into it just to make it livable. Lots of new
subflooring. Entirely resurfacing the walls in the dining and living
areas. We had started to update the small half bath off the master
bedroom when the lady next door put her place up for sale. It was the
same year and make as ours - in much better condition. It didn't
sell. And didn't sell. And didn't sell. She eventually sold it for
the value of the lot and they tore the place down. After that I didn't
put much effort into our place. Sometimes you can see the way the wind
blows.
I started putting down those roots. Really looking at the garden like it was a five and ten year project. Reconciling my semi-rural isolation while I work at home and rarely get out.
In late summer and early fall, the drought began to really show in my garden. We live on an area with a high water table. Some years it takes until July to walk across the lawn without it going 'squish.' (Hence the 'bog' in my garden's name) This worked in my favor for most of the year, all I needed to tend were the containers wherein I keep perennials. But August was brutal, and I finally started to give the garden the attention it desperately needed.
Mark got out there, too, and finished placing the mulch he had bought in spring when we started the spruce up. As plants were receeding into early dormancy, we were making the beds look clean and fresh with mulch. Spring should look fantastic.
Looking ahead, we are trying to figure if we can bring a prefab house onto the site. We hold the land, and therefore pay no lot rent. I really like the prefabs, with their sturdy 2"x6" walls and their ease of installation.
We are still working out how much house we can afford... how much house makes sense to place in this neighborhood... and how much we think we might be able to get out of it... and when we might be able to move on.
Mark's annoucement this spring was a cold shock to the system. But over the last few months, I've looked at houses via the internet every so often. Seeing what's out there; what neighborhoods might be feasible; thinking about what we need for space, dog yards, office areas, entertaining. There've been some houses I'd have liked to look at, but there was no point with not so much as an offer on this place.
When you don't live large and dangerous, others don't break your heart. You do. I found a lovely house, south of here - right where we want to be, in a location that is near to freeways and our friends.
I've not even called to find out what they are asking. Seems futile, when we still owe more on this place than the land will sell for.
Very frustrating. I'm ready to move on. Willing to risk in a new house, new location. But I don't see any way to get there from here.
So, I will continue to live quietly. We are doing pretty well right now. Things are looking good. We're going to pay down our credit debt, put money into the new business, pay down on the mortgage when we can.
Maybe I should put a buck or two on the lottery.
And meanwhile?
I'm looking ahead to spring.
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