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Archive for March, 2010

Moving Day is coming soon! On Friday our wonderful realtor Dave called with the good news about our latest offer, and this time it was a good one. He emailed some papers for us to sign, and on Saturday we faxed them along. Barring any hold-ups, we close on April 28th and will be out of here on May 1st. Packing Time!!

We’ve had a few interesting experiences the past few weeks, and as we bid adieu to Heritage Park, we wanted to share our final moments here for the sake of posterity. Now I don’t want to seem terribly ungrateful, but this is not how I expected to say goodbye…

Farewell Tour Part 1

Friday afternoon, just a few short hours before we received The Call from Dave, I was surprised by a few unexpected visitors in our back yard. I was in our kitchen when I thought I saw a moving shadow through the window, and after my heart skipped in my throat, I tried to reassure myself that it was most likely somebody checking our meter or doing some other “official” business. A few seconds later though when I heard the distinct sound of voices (note the plural form), giggles, and banging on our back gate, I began to think that my uninvited guests were not in fact contracted professionals.

I don’t know exactly what possessed me, but instead of running and grabbing my phone in case some danger awaited me, I quickly bolted for my front door and ran outside to catch my visitors in the act before they could get away. When I ran to the side of the house I saw three Clear Brook High School students standing outside of my gate with doofy smiles and guilty postures.

As soon as I saw teenagers, the intermediate school teacher in me took over and I began speaking to them as I would have if we were all actually in school and I had just caught them in the act of doing something completely stupid.

“Did you guys need something?” I asked them.

“Huh?” two of the three responded.

“You were just in my backyard, and I don’t remember inviting any of you. Did you need something?”

At this point two of my would-be adventure seekers (the young ladies) blushed and looked at the ground, one of them mouthing her apologies. Their other partner, a guy, replied with, “Oh, we were just taking a short cut. Would you rather we not do that anymore?”

I guess I’ve got to give the guy props for his honesty and fortitude. Deciding it would be best to turn this in to a teachable moment, I thought it best if I let these younger pupils know just how appropriate it is to hop a stranger’s fence.

“Actually I think that’s what sidewalks are for. When someone isn’t able to drive girls home from school, his only other option is to walk from school to home using these sidewalks. I’m pretty sure they put them everywhere.

“And those wooden things that you see? Those are called fences, and they’re there to allow people their privacy. They’re put there to keep people out, not for you to climb. OK?”

“OK. Sorry.”

Shortly after this encounter I called Ryan to relay the excitement. We shared a laugh, and he followed up with what could possibly be described as his recent catch-phrase: “Time to move!”

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To Market, to Market…

After months of discussion and 6+ years in Heritage Park, Ryan and I have decided to place our first home on the market.  Last weekend we met one of our realtors, Kaye, who gave us some papers to initial, toured our house and took pictures, and stuck a few signs in our yard.  And just like that, we were for sale!

As of now, about 10 days in, Ryan and I are feeling pretty good about this experience.  We’ve had a bunch of showings, received some good feedback, and have even had a few offers.  With all of these positive responses I know I should be a lot more elated, but with the arrival of these offers I’ve found myself becoming a bit more anxious than I expected.

I wrestled with this idea last night, and after sifting through my own emotions I realized that once again God is reminding me of who I am versus who I need to be.  Since I don’t at all pride myself in this trait, I often allow myself to forget that I am a bit of a control-freak.  I like order, I like schedules, I like predictability, and I am not at all a risk-taker.  Unfortunately for my hard-wiring, the entire house-selling process is a very meticulous and legal form of chaos, and most of what is to happen here has very little to do with me or my need to control.  I cannot decide when I am ready to have it sold, nor do I have any say in what is offered to us.  What we earn, when we sell, and when we move is nearly entirely up to them, the buyers.  Can you imagine what this Unknown has done to a scheduled, planning-obsessed neurotic like me?

Early on Ryan and I decided that we would not let this entire process stress us out because we know at the end of this we get a new house.  Why let the inconveniences make us weary if we know they are necessary steps to get us moved, something we want to do?  While I do think we attempted to prepare ourselves for the minor disruptions, the extra time cleaning, and the hours spent away so the house could be shown, I know I wasn’t primed for the potential emotional toll that the entire offer routine can take.

I confess all of this to you, because I believe that God has a lesson for me here, and I think that when God teaches me something I need to share it. As simplistic as it is, I believe that the lesson for me is this:  “Allison, you are not in control. You can’t know what’s ahead, and you don’t know what these buyers are going to do.  So let it go, trust the people who are educated in this as well as your own instincts, and calm down!  This is supposed to be fun.”

As I wrap this up, I’m listening to the clamor outside our office window as our next-door neighbors attempt to pull something from the ground in their back yard using their truck, a trailer hitch, and some frayed camping rope.  Currently they have only succeeded in ripping the rain gutters off the side of their house, which I don’t believe was their intended goal.  I’m giggling as I shake my head, and once again I am able to remind myself, “I’m moving!”

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USA! USA!!

Note:  I started this post last week, so it’s definitely out of date.  I wanted to wait for more “inspiration”, but in light of Closing Ceremonies, I guess I’ll post this one as is.  Enjoy regular TV programming, everyone!!

I love the Olympics. I believe that my heart usually swells with the most patriotism when I gleefully cheer for my fellow Americans knowing that thousands around the country are doing the same thing. Isn’t it awesome to think that rooting for other people is one of the few things that all of us can generally agree on? I love it!

Since my thin blood has always resided in the southern part of America, I have quite a bit of trouble identifying with our current athletes, but I’m enjoying this all the same. There are very few of these winter sports that I’ve tried (none that I’ve done with any measure of grace), so I’ve found that watching these events has turned in to quite the vocabulary builder for me. Since I am merely a freshman (so to speak) in my “Olympics Lingo” studies, I know I have no real room to judge the merits of all of the chosen jargon; I know it would be better if I left that to the experts. Still, I’ve found that I’m not a fan of all of the terminology, so once again I present a new list. Please, please feel free to add.

Olympics Terms That Should Be Reconsidered

1. Lucky Loser. I’ve heard this about 100 times today as I’ve watched the Cross-Country skiers. That’s terrible!

2. Luge. It looks too much like “loogie”. I guess I taught middle school too long.

Any other ideas??

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