Could be a mishap, the reason I am so tired, or perhaps a stack of mishaps, or maybe just isn’t easy to be brave and let go of the things we hold so close to us, such as security blankets and ways of being? In my case, the letting go of familiar environs at my big home as I have courageously placed an offer on a smaller replacement three days ago.
Oh, how I hope later I don’t find this a misadventure!
One must think quick, these maddening and lasting decisions, a hot roof dance with multiple offers within three days! An Astorian hillside charmer with unparalleled views, still intact talismans of yesteryear including the outside screened fridge and an iron loop to tie your horse up at the street, but that also means all of the issues—only one bathroom you enter through a bedroom, and rotting cedar siding around the windows at the weather-beaten corner.
I found out this morning that I am the backup offer, meaning if whatever contingencies the first choice people have in place don’t pan out I jokey into number one. Agents aren’t allowed to know the business of other buyers so we can’t be sure of these agreements, but it does appear these other buyers will need to secure a loan and that might not be easy with rat-holes and spongy porch boards. At the same time, my cash offer means releasing my hands from the coins I’ve held onto so long in the form of our twenty-year residence.
Did I mention I’m a fixed sign? I’m a creature of habit and do love my own bay views and pink sunsets over the black-drop hemlocks, but this new-older house has stellar views of the river and the dropped off, blackberry bramble requires no upkeep and affords and guarantee’s this priceless glimpse at west dropping sun and distant, silvered sea just as the old, metal bankers-safe in the closet with its gold, combo spinner will safely keep the winners deed.
Photo taken in my back yard.