Selling Out

When I rotate my desk chair 180 degrees away from my computer, out the window I can see the for sale sign, a brown, and gold piece of sheet metal hanging from a gold 4 by 4 inverted L frame. It is a public display of our private plans. In the two weeks since it has been up, one person came to look at the house. That person is coming back tomorrow. I am not sure how I feel about all this. I talked about the garage sale in Letting Go, and our need to get rid of useless things. This house is not useless, but we must get rid of it because it is no longer of any use to us. Well, the interesting part is that it is still of use to us until May, but we are willing to live with the uncertainty of where exactly we will live rather than the uncertainty of how long we will have this house go unsold.

Yesterday we gave away one of the wooden storage boxes that Christian and I build for us to store things in the barn. I realized after the boards were laid on the trailer, I felt a sense of relief, a microscopic lightening of the load, as when a few days earlier we loaded the dining room set into a pickup truck, and it was gone. Each thing we get rid of lightens the load: the dining room set is gone; the bedroom set has been purchased and it will go. Today, two sets of people looked at the house, and one set is coming back tomorrow morning. We are trying not to get too excited about it, but it is clear that even as the prospect of our selling the house becomes clear, will still see its loss as a net positive gain. We'll see what we see in the future in the future.