Lamb in the woods

I did a rough count this morning. There are more than 800 art books in my late husband’s office. Some are boxed. Others are aligned alphabetically on 8 sagging bookshelves.

Problem 1: I may be selling and moving out of my little house in 60 days.
Problem 2: Maybe not.
Problem 3: I may be moving into an even smaller house.
Problem 4: Maybe not.

But the biggest problem of all is I’m no wheeler dealer.

And when it comes to matters of real estate, I’m a lost lamb in the woods, running
the treadmill of offers and counter offers.

Whatever.

I know it will all work out.

Right?

Eventually.

And life will get more simple.

Sure!

One day.

Because my true home’s wherever that old green knapsack takes me in life, with the canine crew at my side.

So for this day, I’ll just load up those carefully selected free boxes from the liquor store labeled ‘Le Grand Noir (Black Sheep)’ and ‘Cupcake Angel Food’.

They ought to be prime candidates for the French art books and maybe even my cookbooks.

As green as I am with real estate, this girl’s determined to make the downsizing dilemma fun.

Even if it does take one U-Haul full of Angel Food Cupcakes to keep me going.

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