Having resisted the rare urge to share personal flotsam with the WWW (Whole Wide World) thus far, recently realized a Blog would save on postcards once we go nomadic. So here I am. Y'all scootch your flotsam over and make room for mine.
The For Sale sign just went up in front of the Powderhorn Palace, so this weekend feels like the beginning - puttin' on the walkin' shoes, looking out over the horizon, thinkin' about gettin' started. Leavin' off the g's at the end of words as I get into a moseyin' kinda mindset.
So yeah, it's official, the house is up for sale. Anyone want an adorable brick Victorian house by a park in Minneapolis? It's the perfect house if you don't find the ownership of a house to be like slow death from suffocation.
The next party theme will be Don't Bring Gifts, Take Our Stuff. Matthew's got dibs on the purple couch. Trista and Dean have their eye on the dining room table. Rik's claimed the BBQ and thinkin' 'bout the lawn mower too. All the rest's fair game.
The walking shoes don't actually go on the feet until October, but this weekend the distant horizon is in my mind's eye and I could swear I smell salt water.
2 comments:
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