Sunday, October 24, 2010
work born of optimism
Here are some numbers for you: three months of condo selling, two offers, neither translating into a finished sale. And now we enter the slow season. What to do? Slash price to ridiculously low level, because truly, I just want to move on.
Where to?
Where these farmers would be my neighbors.
In a burst of optimism, I spent the day clearing the front yard of the farmhouse at Ed’s place. It’s where I’ll move once I sell the condo. We pulled dozens and dozens of blackberry canes and horrible bamboo canes (like rabbits, they understand little about limiting their reproductive capacities), and we trimmed ancient lilac bushes and transplanted out-of-control rose stalks and we tried to pull down a tree hanging dangerously over the barn, but we failed there. The chain saw had issues.
...still, it felt so good to be digging and pulling and pruning again.
I am my grandfather’s child.
Where to?
Where these farmers would be my neighbors.
In a burst of optimism, I spent the day clearing the front yard of the farmhouse at Ed’s place. It’s where I’ll move once I sell the condo. We pulled dozens and dozens of blackberry canes and horrible bamboo canes (like rabbits, they understand little about limiting their reproductive capacities), and we trimmed ancient lilac bushes and transplanted out-of-control rose stalks and we tried to pull down a tree hanging dangerously over the barn, but we failed there. The chain saw had issues.
...still, it felt so good to be digging and pulling and pruning again.
I am my grandfather’s child.
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