|View from front of my house|
It's OK to ask; it's obviously a reasonable question. But I could do without this unsolicited advice that I've also heard: "You should sell the house and buy a condo."
My answers include, "I'm not ready," "I don't want to talk about that now," and "When I stop having nightmares that I've sold the house and am looking at it from the outside in and wishing that I still lived there and realizing that I made a big mistake."
I wonder if that nightmare ever goes away
Recently a friend told me that he was dreading it, that he cried when he left...and that he never looked back.
So you never know.
I was thinking about this when doing battle with the weeds in my front garden this morning and pondering the existential question: "Why do weeds grow so quickly?"
Any semblance that I had of my New York manicure was gone by the time I finished. I start out wearing gloves, but I could only really dislodge the roots by digging my fingers into the ground. I did the front row first (back-asswords) and then did my best to hop over and balance in the back without toppling over.
I remembered when I wasn't even allowed to weed due to fungus lurking in the dirt. Pulling out a weed is the probable culprit in the aspergillus that I got back in 2003, necessitating lung surgery to remove a fungal ball before I could get my first transplant.
I remembered that towards the end of the last year of restrictions after my fourth transplant six years ago, I walked into the garden to help Katie as she pulled out weeds. She got upset with me and said I better call Melissa. I did that and Melissa said to get out of there right now.
Well, being immune suppressed was an excuse to not do it, but I am happier where I am.
Bending over did, however, hurt my back, and as I leaned against the house to rest and looked out at the scene that is pictured with this post, I thought, "Definitely not ready."