I find it interesting that the actual transaction for selling a house is called closing. When the front door to my parents’ house—the one that anchored our family over four decades—closed to us, it started me thinking about other doors I’ve known. In recent years, we’ve gone from a midwest victorian door to a northwest contemporary door to an English castle door to our Scottish Hobbit door. Recently, I closed another door, when we left the Hobbit House to move to a needy cottage on a Scottish island.
The truth is that most of those changes have led to wonderful new friends, life-changing experiences, and incredible memories. Generally, I’m a glass-half-full girl, so I’m grateful for all the places those doors have taken me. But I’ve learned a few things along the way.
Close the door.
Leave the pieces that weigh too much. Really. I’m getting older and my back isn’t all it used to be, so…
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