bit by bit
we load up the vans
following us around
like offspring we never had
—A Hundred Gourds, December 2012
Late August 2011—Ooh, I can barely stand to remember that time. We finally sold our house, for quite a bit lower than we should have sold it for (mostly due to the recession), and we were given barely one week after accepting the offer to get out of there. (We'd earlier partially moved out, but we still had some dishes, clothes, small furniture, and plenty of other stuff there.) My husband was away on a business trip that week, so he could only help on the weekend after closing. The temps were above 100 degrees F, and it was quite an experience.
Shortly after we completed the move, we were evacuated from the new house—for eight days—because it was in the path of a massive, record-breaking wildfire. I'm leaving out a few additional colorful details (to do with our health, our realtor going ballistic, a car tire, and our refrigerator), but that's the gist of it. Good news: fire did reach our little community but affected none of the homes. I later told part of the story to a stranger, who burst out laughing. I guess that can be a good thing to do—laugh. Or write a poem—or both!
Edit: I see I already talked about some of this in an earlier post or two; sorry for any repetition.