Where we love is home – home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.
~Oliver Wendell Holmes
The plan was never to sell this house. It was our dream home, built almost entirely by my husband, father & sister while I worked alone running our business for over a year. My 4-year old daughter ‘hammered’ nails into the studs during the framing stage, while wearing a mini-mouse wedding dress. My husband has countless entertaining stories of the bureaucracy within the City Planning Department (Don’t get him started about that sewer tree thing!) I learned how to garden, paint, cook, and mother here. Hosted family reunions with epic ChickenFoot battles here. Learned printmaking here. Alternated between hating & loving generations of squirrels here. Raised and buried my best canine friend here. Lost my Dad here. Here. Here. Here.
Soon to be There.
We’ve chosen the Realtor. Picked a target date. And now, we’ve packed our first load of stuff into the trailer to haul up to the Sierras. While I can departmentalize enough to get through the job, my heart is not in it. I have many, many second (forty-second, forty-third…) thoughts. But my head comes up with too many reasons it’s a good idea, persuading my heart to shut up.
So, the industrial racking that we bought for a song years ago is finally going to see some use. We’ve chosen to send that up first in the hopes that it will provide the necessary storage for all the stuff we’ve accumulated after 26 years together – 14 living in this house.
Next week – Sorting the stuff into categories: {Craigslist} {Keep} {Toss / Giveaway}
Can’t wait.
Red Tail Studios 