Sitting Here….

In our house that hasn’t sold yet. That hasn’t even had one showing yet.

I don’t think it’s anything our Realtor is doing or not doing.  It has more to do with the fact that 12 identical condos are on the market in our subdivision, none of which have had much interest shown in 2010.

So we sit. We wait.We get a little more lax in the “new carpet rules” every day. The dishes are back to sitting in the sink a little longer.

The parameters of “we need to be able to straighten the house in 30 minutes” has been expanded to say, 90 minutes.

Here’s the thing–we need to sell this thing. Thankfully, we don’t have real time frame or restraints. Our children aren’t getting any younger. We’d like for them to have a backyard (sans retention pond), and a few neighbors under the age of 60. We’d like for them to have their own rooms, and a little more space to play. I’d *like* a bedroom without a freakin’ skylight (shows great, sooo annoying when trying to sleep!) and a two car garage. But really, I know we are lot more comfortable and a lot better off than so many others, as annoying as it is, I can’t really complain.

Have you sold a house lately? Any tips on how to stay motivated to stay “show ready”?? Or how to find a buyer in this market?? We’re stumped, and getting rather bored with the whole thing…..

Loose Ends in the 21st Century

When Nancy signed off her blog, the Internet lost an amazing voice. One thing that struck me was how much her family and her rabbi quoted her writing during her funeral. Because of what she had written, they were able to read her words for the congregation to hear. I honestly don’t know if I have any handwritten notes from my friend, but her blog seems to be serving that purpose.

Since then, her name has popped up as I type in email addresses. There is one post left in my Google reader that I haven’t marked as read. She’s still a contact in my iPhone.

I can’t quite bring myself to delete her yet.

She’s Gone

Some of you who’ve been Internetin’ it up with me for awhile may remember me talking about my friend, La Cootina.

Her name was Nancy. She was fabulous, and about a month ago, she posted her final entry on LaCootina.

We met online in September of 2001, along with about 10 other women. This was pre-Twitter, and pre-Facebook, and forums were all the rage. We met on a Cooking Light forum, when Cooking Light was promoting the idea of “Supper Clubs”.  We were (and still are) a very eclectic group of foodies, but for some reason, we’ve all become good friends. At Nancy’s hounding, Cooking Light finally ran a little blurb on us a few months ago.

Nancy brought me killer chicken soup when I was sick.

She knitted Mary-jane style booties for Mam, and Chuck Taylor booties for the Fox.

She made the most amazing baby blanket for Mam, unfortunately it’s in storage or I’d show you.

She was witty and funny and although I don’t think she thought of herself as gracious, she was.

I always thought she should start a blog. She finally did when she was diagnosed with cancer. And what a blogger she was.

Funny.

Funny.

And MORE Funny.

And courageous. People started reading her for her strength and honesty about the awful disease that forever changed, and ultimately shortened, her life.

I am so glad she blogged, because once she got sick, I felt like I was shortening her life span by visiting. Between all of the crap my kids have caught over the past two winters, and everything I’m exposed to but don’t get, I never felt like it was safe to be in the same room with her from Labor Day til Memorial Day. So we left comments on each other’s blogs, like good 21st century friends do.

Here’s the one I will treasure for always:

I haven’t been here for a while. Love the new design!!

I’m thankful for your friendship, Michelle. And thankful that your family’s joys help balance out the universe in a very special way.

She was amazing.

And I had the honor to call her my friend.

Fill your hearts with gratitude and forgiveness until there is no room for anything else. Be good to yourselves and each other. –my friend, Nancy