The first people to look at my house made an offer.

I accepted.

And then their financing fell through.

It was what you might call a whirlwind of emotions. I’m not fussing about it, but it inspired me to live in my house very mindfully this weekend, enjoying the pool, appreciating the lanai*, and taking full advantage of the laundry room.

I’ve determined that I’m going to leave this house with all quilts and blankets as clean as possible: I’m not thinking about the fact that an RV doesn’t have a ton of room for blankets and so I should be probably be deciding which ones need to get donated. I own a lot of quilts. Maybe I’ll do a post of quilt pictures and let you help me decide? But mostly my choices will be between presentable vs extraordinarily well-worn and ragged, but incredibly nostalgic. For example, I own a quilt my mom made with her grandma for her wedding. It’s purple and red, ripped along one side, very lightweight, and more than fifty years old. Put that up against the perfectly serviceable blue and green quilt I picked up at Bed, Bath & Beyond a few years ago and there’s a practical decision and the decision that I will undoubtedly make. But I sort of suspect that I’ll be keeping all the quilts when I leave and making the hard decisions only when I am forced to it by the lack of space in my future new home.

And who knows when that will be? After my first showing turned into my first offer, I thought this process would be quick, but no one else has even looked at the place yet, so maybe not so much. That’s probably fortunate because I have a lot to do before I leave. (Ahem, like, write a book? Yeah, that.) I’m not stressing, though. A time for everything and everything in its time. And now it’s time to write!

*Lanai: So it turns out, in Florida, there are specific terms for those outside spaces adjacent to one’s house. They’re not all just patios. My outside space has no walls but is covered, so apparently it’s a lanai. If it weren’t covered but was paved, it would be a patio. If it was made of wood, not covered, it would be a deck. If it… well, follow the link on the term to read all the variations. But I may have to go through all my Tassamara books looking at the porches. Apparently the Southerners might have called them verandas. I figure I’m fine in Akira’s point-of-view, because she — like me — probably had no idea of these fine distinctions, but I suspect Natalya should have. Not that I’m going to make any changes, it would just be interesting to know where I got it wrong.