Our house officially goes on the market today.
It's real, and it's good, but it's also very sad. We got married here. Graham peed on the Christmas tree skirt here the first day we brought him home.
We've had millions of parties: poker, BBQs, or even just dragging people in the front door and forcing them to eat things. I became a triathlete here, an ironman; my husband, a marathoner. Every inch of this house has been painted, I know the sounds of the heat roaring on and the neighbors fighting in the driveway yet again. I know every step of the 3.1 mile loop, the 4 mile loop, the 8 mile loop, how many times I have to go around Hains Point to hit 20 miles, I can turn off my alarm clock and be in the pool six minutes later exactly. And now we are moving on.