A lot’s happened since I last checked in with you. First, the main battery on my 12-year-old Prius died, which basically meant the car was rendered useless. I sold the Prius for $1,000 to a guy who’s going to replace the battery.
I suppose I could have dumped about $3,200 into repairing the car so it would last who knows how much longer, but as much as I loved that little car, it came with some baggage, such as the fact that the Prius was the car I bought with my ex-husband.
Besides, one of the things on my bucket list is a little tear-drop trailer for camping, and a Prius can’t haul anything heavier than what a motorcycle might tow.
Also, this was a good time for the Prius to die because this year marks seven years since my divorce.
Not to get too groovy but I have this thing about the number 7, probably because it’s my birth month, but also just because I like it.
So I bit the bullet and bought a 2015 Kia Soul that had – wonder of wonders – 7,000 miles on it. I’ve admired Kia Souls for a few years, and always imagined I’d go for the Alien Green color. But I love my little “Latte” Kia Soul even better.
It was kind of an emotional experience for me to buy a car as a single person. Thank goodness, Kent Fiscus (my daughter-in-law’s Uncle Kent), who manages the Kia dealership in Redding, made the process so easy and painless. I knew he was watching out for me, which gave me great relief.
As long as I’m tracking significant sevens, this year marks seven years since I purchased my formerly pink house upon which I spent more than $80,000 and almost seven months to remodel and restore. We’re talking stucco, new wiring, new plumbing, lots of new windows and doors, tile, flooring, texturing, a raised kitchen ceiling, some knocked out walls … and on and on and on.
I never planned to grow old in this house. I always knew I’d want to move up to another house that needed a little work, something that would be an even greater investment for me in a few years, an important consideration here in 2017, the year I turn 61. (Six plus one is seven, you know.)
It’s been six years since the remodel was final, but at some point that “new” remodeling wouldn’t be all that new and shiny anymore. The housing market seems promising, and with summer approaching, my swimming pool will be a real asset.
Basically, my adorable little Garden Tract house would never look more appealing than it does right now.
With that in mind, I called my favorite realtor, son Joshua Domke, and told him I wanted to put my house on the market. I appreciated that he didn’t try to talk me out of it (unlike a few others, mainly because they think my house is so customized and perfect for me that they think I’ll regret leaving).
Yes, I will miss my beautiful kitchen. But I have no doubt I’ll create a cool kitchen in my next home, too.
It’s been a joy to see my son in action in his profession. I’ve known since Josh was about 5 that he’d end up in some kind of sales because of how he’d pick fruit from our orchard and then sell it to neighbors, or how he’d fish out golf balls from Allen’s Golf Course’s little creek and then sell them back to golfers.
I’ve known a lot of realtors, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen one as proactive and engaged in the process as Josh, and I’m not just saying that because I’m his mother. This guy has moved things along at an impressively fast clip. Within four days of telling Josh I wanted to list my house, he’d drawn up the paperwork (signature here and here and here and here and here) put the sign in my lawn, taken photos, made fliers, and held an open house Saturday that drew more than 60 visitors. (Yes, lots of activity and interest, which I’m not at liberty to share at the moment.)
Josh, who was in the Marine Corps, tackles selling my house as if it’s his most important mission. Works for me.
I posted a Real Living link to my house on FB last week, which resulted in hearing from many people whose messages began with, “OMG! You’re selling your house!”
Where are you going? Why are you moving? You just fixed up your house like you want it! Why would you leave that behind?
I can explain. First, where am I going? In my perfect world I would find another house in the Garden Tract, but this one would have an in-law unit. I’m open to other places, too, but I love the Garden Tract so much that it’s my first choice. Even so, I’m keeping an open mind.
I’m fine with buying a house that needs basic cosmetic spiffing up, but I’m not sure I have it in me – financially or energetically – to tackle a remodeling project as large as the Pink House.
If my house sells before I can find the place I want to buy, then I’ll put a lot of my stuff in storage and rent something small until I find my meant-to-be house.
I truly believe that if I hadn’t gone through this last year of my major health-and-fitness transformation with Matthew R. Lister at Align Private Training, I wouldn’t have had the courage to let go of the Prius to buy a new(ish) car, or let go of the security of my remodeled home to list it for sale.
I feel strong and able physically, and I feel strong and able mentally, too. I’m excited about the future. If life is a high-wire act, there’s no grabbing a new ring and soaring to new heights until I let go of the old ring.
So that’s where I am now: wide awake with joyful anticipation, and reaching as high as I can.