There has much activity of late, much stress caused by details of selling the property. I can honestly say I have not enjoyed one minute of it. However, I am no push over and having sold nine of my own houses in the past 20 years, I am no wuss either when it comes to holding my ground and maintaining my hard earned equity.
We are now under contract with a buyer-which means if the buyer accepts the inspection results to be completed by next week, we will close the end of March. But, having had closings fall through the day of said closing, I do not relax one bit until the papers are signed and the money is in the bank.
So...I have been distracted, especially since the offer came in last Friday-the same day that we had a roaming dog attack and maul one of the sheep. I witnessed it, but didn't have a rifle there, it was horrible. Animal control is involved, and my sheep is slowly recovering-although I still give her a 50/50 chance of full recovery.
So what does any of this have to do with trolls and fairies? I don't know. I think it shows I am in disarray. The other day I made a sign for the fairy that lives under the front deck. I figured who ever ends up here needs to be respectful to the privacy of the troll, they are so shy, and spook easily.
Somebody asked me if I would take all the signs around the place to Maine. I don't think so. Their meaning is here, and I think their meaning will dissolve the minute we leave. It saddens me, but it is how change and evolution of a life work. The signs have served a purpose for me, and our visitors. They have all been part of the unfolding story here. But the new stories are in Maine. I guess its like when you take a piece of furniture from your aunt's house who passed on, a piece of furniture you always think of her sitting at-but it loses its memory in a new setting. I sense some of my followers are somewhat sad too–like when a favorite show leaves the air, you miss those characters and many characters here are precious to many readers. There will be new stories breathing in Maine, in time.
The worst part about selling a property is during inspections. Here's a place you have literally bled over, pouring everything financial and sweat equity into, and then somebody walks through and pees on all the corners. That's always what it feels like to me, in all the sales I've done. It ceases to be mine at some point. The trick is to remember one thing,
it is till mine and until we agree to everything it will remain ours.
I have The Head Troll trained well of course, as you can see here.