Things are falling into place, even as the outside world becomes madder by the day.
Today my wife returns to Florida; I’ll be rejoining her next Thursday. Her presence here this past week has been invaluable. Together we managed to sort out much of the chaos involved in getting my late mother’s house ready for sale.
Earlier this week, we went to the Paper Source in Bronxville. A song by the Lumineers was playing. I had never heard it before.
This afternoon, a real estate photographer is coming by. I’ll be spending the morning vacuuming and doing some last minute tidying up before the shoot.
Tomorrow I resume the manic runs to the Yonkers recycling center, and on Monday the Culligan people will come by to replace the motor for the water filtration system. Wednesday the electrician will come by, and that will be it in terms of getting this house ready for showing. It’s going on the market a week from Monday.
It’s not the best news that interest rates are going up again next week, but I’m counting on certain factors that make this house desirable for the right demographic. But it will take a stroke of good fortune for it to quickly sell at or above my asking price.
So I’m staying on the wagon, even though I would enjoy downing a six pack of ice cold ones during the Jets game against the Browns on Sunday.
There’s just too much shit to do, still, so I’ll keep it responsible.
I’m going to miss my wife. We have remained married, despite enduring significant economic uncertainty, if not outright hardship, over the past two decades.
I reckon you could call it stubborn love.