But I typoed Hope. Interesting.
They got fourteen offers (!) and took the highest bidder, and although we went over by quite a bit, we weren’t that. Somehow, although it was the perfect house (minus those pesky complications like floors), I’m not broken up. I thought I would be. Maybe telling myself that big dreams wouldn’t hurt actually worked. Dunno.
Just means the better home is out there, right? Yep. But we might take a week off for holidays and recovery before we start looking again. Tiring, this big hopeful nervous feeling. Maybe that’s why I’m feeling better today, just knowing one way or t’other.
But darlings, all those crossed needles out there? I felt ’em, and love ’em and appreciate ’em, and I’m just going to apply them to the next house-gamble account, shall I? Big kisses to all y’all.
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