When we decided to put the house on the market, we were leery. I don't think there are many places in the country that haven't been touched by our
economic debacle current trying times. But the older I get, the less stuff I want. And the less space I need. Even when The Bird and Augie are home, they are rarely at home. So it was Squazz and MPM who were left sitting there. I loved our house. Loved it. But it was a money pit. And way too big for us doddering old farts empty nesters.
So we put it on the market and held our breath.
And then I just buried a little statue in the back garden.
This is a lucky St. Joseph.
He has sold many a house.
Nurse Nancy lent him to me.
And I followed the explicit directions she sent me.
And we sold our house.
In the middle of a very bad market.
I don't consider myself a superstitious person--
Nor a photographer, for apparent reasons.
(But in my defense, I only had my iPhone)
And when we get our check after the closing today?
I might just say another little prayer.
To my new man. Joe.
Read about St. Joseph here.
Now I must get back out on the deck.
There are neighbors here at The Complex who need to be observed...