Description: Not necessarily about knitting
I’ve been resisting sitting down to write. I had the idea to write about home beginning a week ago, on the first day waking up and not owning the house I once I thought of as our dream home.
We owned a house. A beautiful house in a beautiful place. The kind of house that people talked about. A dream house. And then, after 8 years in that house, we decided to pursue a different adventure in a different part of the country. And we set out to sell the house. Everyone thought it would sell right away – it was so memorable, so welcoming. Our agent priced it far higher than I hoped, but I’m notorious for underselling value. Of myself, certainly, and often things I own.
And nothing happened. Oh, lots of people came to see it. And said they loved it. But no one made an offer. We dropped the price. And dropped the price again – to right around where I probably would have started. We needed to move forward, so we left the house behind. He started the job we decided to leave for, we sent the girl to grandparents, and I packed up (or more accurately supervised packers and movers while weeping copiously).