I don't know how my son managed to have fun at such a half-hearted attempt at camp - but when I picked him up (about 2 hours early), he was smiling.

I had gotten nothing done, nothing.

In a couple of months we are selling this house. I look around. And freak the hell out.

So much to do. We'll be working right up to the minute our first open house starts.

And? And? We still haven't decided where we're moving. What comes next.

Leaving Dee's party on Monday, I was disengaging from a conversation. I think I was talking about swimming with the dolphins last month off Key largo.

"Wait," she asked - "what's new with the house?"

"Oh," I said. "Well, we picked out a kitchen. And we have some kind of plan. Whatever comes together by April or so - that's when the house goes up for sale. "

"Then where?"

"Well, we think Iceland for a visit this summer. And maybe England."

We looked at each other while I pulled on my coat.

"I don't know where we'll end up," I admitted. "Maybe back here. Maybe Canada. We've decided to be open."

And I thought 'That sounds insane. That sounds utterly nuts! When in the world did I go from coffee-talk about my job and Bear's life to being the off-kilter loony tune who doesn't know where she and her family are going to be living in 6 months? This woman is about to give me such a look! Such a comment!.' And I even braced myself a little.

Because this is all wrong, right?

But she just called "Good Luck!" as we started down the stairs to the car.

Posted by: Elizabeth at 02:31 AM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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