The Season's Begun?

Yeah, right: buyers are flocking here in hordes! One, to be precise, in the past week and a half. The Big Chihuaua, the Little Cahuna comes not this Thursday, as promised, but the next one, along with his entourage of daughter in law, granddaughter and architect son. Who knows? I am no longer holding my breath, believe me. I have begun to loathe these people. First it was Barbados, then a medical procedure, then broken appointment after broken appointment. So the son comes along and there will be all sorts of tire kicking; his reputation precedes him. And the father ain't getting any younger. And to top it off, the real estate agent is in his pocket and my good friend Lou happens to be the buyer's brother in common law. He knows my financial underpinings, the very cut and stripe of my boxer shorts. He knows exactly how vulnerable we are.

We had a plan last year about this time. Move to Rhode Island, get a fresh start, take advantage of the healthy real estate market. And here we sit, nearly a year later, or more fairly, seven months since we put our house on the market. Everything is unresolved. We are living in separate orbits, wandering WASPs, with Sally here in New York and Sophie and I in a rented apartment in Providence. It just aint' right. But who is complaining? The academic year has been a good one for Sophie, and that was the primary factor in our decision to move. Time for a change was a good idea, once upon a time, or it seemed sound enough. Looking back, it just doesn't seem so smart anymore and I am losing faith. We appear to be on the wrong side of the wind shift, again. Right now, there is nothing to do but stay the course. I wonder, will this, too, appear short-sighted or mistaken a few months from today? It is time for a change. I welcome the spring, the beginning of the new real estate season, the fulmination of a dream. Andiamo! C'est tout!