Monday, October 11, 2010


This month is about endings for us. And, yes, The Man is still alive. So are the heathens.
We are close to finishing our house addition with minimal bloodshed and I haven't burst into tears. Yet.
My marriage has survived.
Sort of.
I've threatened The Man with death and bodily harm--until he gave in and gave me something I wanted in the room.
No, not that, ye pervs!
I would get upset and he would gvie me the shower I wanted, the closet organizer or ceiling fan I liked. Something little to remind me that there was progress, however slow it might seem.
Ten years ago, we bought our fist home. We only lived in it for two, and its been a rental since, but this month we are selling it and saying goodbye to the last remnant of our PH (pre-heathen) days.
It's bittersweet. While I glad not to have to worry about it, I remember how excited we were to have it. I had my first positive pregnancy test there and lost my baby there. I graduated from college there.
It's a piece of our past, a slice of our marital pie, and saying goodbye is both a relief and a sadness.
That is, until I get to move into the addition and I take the sale check to the bank.
Then I'm doing Lionel Ritchie "Dancing in the Streets," baby!

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