Today, in addition to two week’s worth of laundry, I mowed most of the lawn, which really needed it. Due to unavoidable other obligations, the lawn hadn’t been wooed in weeks. (I always feel a little bad about displaying political lawn signs in a lawn that clearly needs to be mowed. It gives the wrong impression. Actually, one of my two Biden/Harris signs was missing this morning. I hope that means somebody thought “This house has two Biden signs and I don’t have any. Surely they won’t mind if I take one of them to put in my yard.” If somebody stole it in order to put it in their yard, I don’t mind. Plus I have some extras, so I replaced it.)
While I was mowing, I got to thinking about all the work we had done on the yard over the 15 years we’ve been here. When we bought the house, about a third of the back yard was overtaken by multiflora rose brambles. It took years of work, but those are now gone, and we’ve planted some shrubs (all put behind fencing so the deer can’t get to them). The shrubs have finally gotten to a size where they look good. It’s a pleasing yard to look at, in my opinion.
But by this time next year, we are likely to be saying good-bye to this house. We’ll be retiring next year and moving to hubby’s home state of California. We’re currently in escrow on a house in San Diego County. Thursday, the mortgage officer called to say that the mortgage application was approved. This is a big step toward our goal, but it’s also kind of frightening. This house costs way more than anything I’ve ever bought before. Approval of the loan brings us ever closer to that Rubicon, where it’s not possible to turn back. Once we own a house in California (or, more accurately, hold a mortgage on it), the die is cast. We will definitely be headed west no later than this time next year, and the house we currently own will either be for sale or sold.
In principle, I could have a few more “productive” years of employment. But given my university’s financial situation (extremely dire), as well as all the other signs of change this year, it’s clear the time has come to transform our lives as well. But up to this point, there’s been the possibility of backing out. Once we’ve bought the farm, er, house, backing out is no longer an option. Big decisions always involve some level of risk. I think we’re doing the right thing, but there’s still that queasiness about whether we’ll have enough money, or whether the house is right for us, or if our future neighbors will turn out to be raging trumpies.
The Rubicon beckons. No way out but through.
View from the deck of the house in California. (it’s not ours yet.)
P. S. This is my 400th diary.
Comments are below the fold, following this word from our sponsor:
Here at Top Comments we welcome longtime as well as brand new Daily Kos readers to join us at 10pm Eastern. We strive to nourish community by rounding up some of the site's best, funniest, most mojo'd & most informative commentary, and we depend on your help!! If you see a comment by another Kossack that deserves wider recognition, please send it either to topcomments at gmail or to the Top Comments group mailbox by 9:30pm Eastern. Please please please include a few words about why you sent it in as well as your user name (even if you think we know it already :-)), so we can credit you with the find!
Top Comments (September 12, 2020):
From paintitblue:
This comment by Matt Z describes the effect of pessimism on Democratic turnout, in mastergardener2k’s recommended post on the results of the recent yougov poll.
Top Mojo is courtesy of mik! Click here for more on how Top Mojo works.
Top Photos (September 11, 2020):
Tonight’s picture quilt is courtesy of jotter!
