At the end of four days of intensive prepping and packing for the estate sale of my late mother-in-law’s worldly goods here in the dark Heart of America, I felt far more than my mere 60 years old. In fact, if Duncan MacLeod had leapt into the living room, pulling out his Katana, crying out, “There can be only one,” I’d have just said, “Go ahead, buddy. I’ve had a good life.”
The guys filling up the horse trailer told us, after the second load, “Well, this might be it. We might just have to pick up the rest for the next sale.”
“hey, we don’t live here,” I said. “We’re not gonna drive six hours just so we can go through this all over again.” Besides, we did have the signed contract.
But two days ago, the last of the furniture, the last of the mirrors, the pictures, the silver, the record albums, the bookcases, the collection of ceramic Collies, the various odds and ends collected over a lifetime went out the door.
Saturday morning the auction was held, which we opted not to attend.
Now it is just a house which needs to be cleaned, and readied for the Realtor to put on the market.
Tonight, more than ever, it just feels like a semi-empty house, a house we have never met before.
Now it is just another house in a small town with bad cable, bad Internet, no recycling, a bad newspaper, bad food, people who say they will come to work on your house and then disappear into the space/time continuum and a meth problem to beat the band.
We’re ready to come home, to the New York City of the Ozarks.
On the Plus Side
On the plus side, I expect there to be a Candy Clark for Arkansas State Representative sign on our front lawn upon our return.
On the Negative Side
One of my dental implants has split off , and with my dentist six hours away, I have a headache that a masochist would truly love.
Quote of the Day
If by the time we’re sixty we haven’t learned what a knot of paradox and contradiction life is, and how exquisitely the good and the bad are mingled in every action we take, and what a compromising hostess Our Lady of Truth is, we haven’t grown old to much purpose. - John Cowper Powys