We sold our house today – closed on it and shook hands all around. It was a pleasant and simple transaction, with a delightful new buyer who promised to love the house and keep it well.
It’s a special house, we think – a cottage built in 1925 from Old Florida cypress and cedar. We’ve lived here for eleven years, and have so many happy stories. We survived the four Dread Hurricanes of 2004 with nary a scratch to our solid old house. We were not married when we bought the house, but wedded soon after. Our kitties were born in the backyard to a feral mom-cat. And so on.
|Skinny G., born in the yard, lives happily with us.|
We’ll be here for a while, as we wait for our contract on a new place to work its way though the banking maze. Our new “landlord” is renting the house back to us (thank you!) so everyday life is not changing. But it feels strange, after all this time.
That’s what a milestone is, I guess. A bend in the road, a marker, neither tragic nor ecstatic. Things are different from this point forward, and we will paddle down a new river toward new adventures.
Love you, old house. Thanks for everything, I really, really, mean it.