Saturday Morning

Overnight temps are starting to wilt the outdoor plants. A sure sign of the earth's orbit doing its thing. In my sphere, I'm minimizing house clutter and "depersonalizing" rooms, getting ready for the big sell. I've way too much art for this place. Whatever will I do with it in a smaller apartment?

I've never sold a house before, I think it's more challenging than buying. There's an element of judgement in it. What if people don't like my quirky, shabby chic style. What if they are too horrified by the decades-old carpet that I never replaced choosing instead to spend my heard earned money on traveling, dinners out and good times with friends. I hope that they, like me, are blown-away by the good bones of this place. The flow, spaciousness and light, the majestic sunsets that pour into the living room.

There's a wonderful tiny apartment for sale in Nanaimo that I just can't get out of my head this week. It's in my (very modest) price range, on the top floor of an older quiet building, close to the university and downtown. It has a giant roof top patio that makes me want to giggle and skip about. I could even paint my own walking-meditation labyrinth on it and have a container garden up there. Trouble is, it's available now, yet I won't be ready to move until end of June. My agent says it would be next to impossible to rent out for just a few months. The general practice there is for new tenants to sign a one-year lease first, then switch to a monthly basis in the second year. I have to figure-out how to do this. Projecting myself into an idealized future is my weakness, I'm not even ready to sell or leave this place yet I'm mentally decorating and arranging furniture there. It's a kind of obsessive torture. Step by step.