The picture was of a corner of two busy streets from the neighborhood I grew up in.
It was on friend’s Facebook page and the focal point had nothing to do with my childhood home but I can’t see the intersection and not think of it.
Especially now that school is out and the heat has arrived. It is impossible not to remember riding my bike around town, to Trader Joe’s or the 7-11 across the street.
A quick Internet search brought up the house and showed it hasn’t been on the market since 2018. They have the same photos of the interior that show multiple changes that make it clear of some of the big changes inside.
That made me wonder if anything had changed with the house I used to own so I googled that and discovered it is not estimated to be worth more than one million dollars.
I liked the house quite a bit and am responsible for having redone the kitchen and one bathroom, but it is over valued. That is a ridiculous price, but I am not interested in going back.
Ten years later there is still no reason for me to reconsider.
I should add that four hours of work in the garage reminded me of how much stuff I have been dragging around, because much of what was donated to Goodwill comes from the decade we lived in the old place.
Clear Sight With Blind Spots
During an online review I saw that SQ had spent time analyzing some letters and that made me decide to update it again.
Wasn’t the only reason because the time sorting through boxes and revisiting what was always makes me think about the present.
You know how it goes, look in a box and decide if the contents are things that you need in your present life.
If you aren’t using them often is it because you lacked access or simply forgot you had them?
Sometimes the answer doesn’t matter because it doesn’t impact whether you retain or remove said item.
Some of what was disposed of today proved that to be true. I wanted them gone because there is too much stuff here that doesn’t isn’t of daily practical use anymore nor does it provide sufficient sentimental value.
But there are/were a few things that tugged, poked and prodded at some of the softer spots.
So here I sit, big glass of Scotch in hand, lost in thought.