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Showing posts from March, 2008

rachel on reading

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Every time I finish a book, especially a good one, I have a sense of loss. As if I just realized I am homeless and I look around in a daze, saying to myself "now what?" Just thought I would share that. Yeah...I don't know why, either.

how's that again?

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I don't think there is ever a good time to hear your 6 year old son, piping up from the backseat of the car: "I'm going to be a father soon."

still a -sellin the homestead

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We have gotten some major things done on our list. For one thing, Edgard is nearly done with the fence. I am definitely a firm believer in the good fences make good neighbors. Especially when your neighbor has decided to completely redo his yard the year before but only got as far as cutting the sod off. The weeds, I kid you not, are as tall as my son. Not the nicest thing to look at. And then, when you add in that we have let our backyard go while concentrating on the front yard and the inside of the house...well it wasn't pretty to look at. So now putting a fence up, we will only see half a horrible yard...ours. Even that is starting to shape up. We bought 3 mature trees to plant in front of the fence so that when the leaves come out we cannot even see over. Are you starting to guess I am a hermit? I am. I like my privacy. The other big development is the muscles in my arms. I have personally rototilled a section of our yard where I plan to plant some mock...

it turns out that this isn't fun

Selling your house sucks. I realize that this is all too obvious and that I am saying this before I have even put the signs up, but I am literally in the middle of a long to-do list of things I need to fix before we put it on the market and am feeling the strain. It is sad really. I won't even fix these things for myself. We will finally have the house just the way we want it---in time to sell it to somebody else. We did that with our last house. We'll probably do that next time, too. Sad. Pathetic. The good thing is that if we don't sell it, then at least we get to enjoy our labor. The other feeling of dread is showing it to people. We are selling it ourselves---no Realtor---translation: no buffer. Last time that we showed our previous house, some jackass, who didn't, of course, didn't end up buying it, had the gall to tell us that our paint scheme was "odd." He also asked if we would repaint it. We told him to go suck eggs. Well not reall...

reel a state....

We are getting ready to sell our home. Stress abounds.

there are signs everywhere

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Even if my children didn't make it abundantly clear, everyday, that they very much live here...there would be subtle hints.