I'm going to move. Tomorrow, there will be a ‘For Sale’ sign in front of my house and I'll be making an offer on a turn of the century home in Red Wing. I've gone through a metamorphosis in a relatively short time as I struggled and fought a fairly straightforward decision. It's not as if I morphed into a werewolf or anything. Rather an irrational, emotional woman afflicted with a racking dose of self doubt, wrapped in debilitating, old fashioned fear. For some reason I attached a move to Red Wing to an end of something instead of a beginning. It’s true; there is an end as I leave a little house behind. However, I’m simply moving 25 miles away and my Cannon Falls friends will continue to be just that.
I’ve been looking at my home from the perspective of a potential buyer. It’s a bit unnerving to know your bathroom, bedroom, reading material, refrigerator contents are left open to the scrutinizing eye of a stranger. In the middle of a home tour with my realtor in Red Wing, the phone rang suddenly, answering machine kicked on and we stood with our hands clasped over our mouth holding back laughter as a message was left. I made a note to self to turn mine off or down or something. Also, what to do about my dog? He wants to be in every picture I try to take for the realtor listing. Do people want to see a house that has a dog in the picture? What if it’s a kind of cute dog?
