Today I'm happy to share with you a post from Mr. Butler on the process of getting the old house ready to sell (something he has been working long hours on lately).
We made that house a home, but we've moved on. I no longer desire to move back for convenience sake. I love where we are now and will love it once Spring hits and there are more "light hours" in the day to enjoy; days where I don't have to go from work to do "old house" projects. But the past is past. Not erased, but diminished. Like those trees overlaid with white paint. There, but not there. Except those trees will be revived any time I see an illustration of a fall tree, maybe not vividly, but they are there forever.
Scary new things are now home and will be for a while. I'll do my best for this old house to set it up for success (just like kids), but I can't control what happens when it's mine no longer. I only get to control some things: same as all the rest of the things in life.
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