Well I’m certainly glad that’s over! No, not the shallow blog, although from my rather extended absence I wouldn’t be one bit surprised if that’s what you were thinking. As a matter of fact, the other day I received my annual “better pay up or there’s no dedicated URL for you” notice and so it was that I decided to pony up my 18 bucks for another year. Did I say 18? What with the loonie acting up as of late I believe it’s more like 24 this year. But that’s neither here nor there really and not something anyone but me needs to know, even if you do know now. But what many of you don’t know is that for the past couple of months I have been selling my house. Period. And I say “period” because essentially that’s all I’ve been able to focus on for longer than I care to think.
Now I’m pretty sure that there are many among you who have at sometime in the past sold a house. Perhaps even multiple times. And if you haven’t you probably know someone who has. I certainly do. Truth be told, I’d have to say that house selling is kind of in my blood. My Mother, (have I mentioned lately that she’s 99?) was a very successful realtor for over 25 years. And my Brother, well he’s bought, redeveloped and sold many a home in the “Big City”. In fact, something you may not know about me until this very moment is that many years ago I dabbled at being a realtor myself and, had it not been for the fact that my two very young children at the time tugged at my heartstrings every time I had to leave the house in the middle of dinner, or on a beautiful Sunday afternoon, (apparently I wasn’t quite as shallow back then) that’s probably what I would be doing now. So, as you can see, I’ve been connected in some way or another to the sale of many, many homes. But none of them were my own. None of them had been lived in by me and my family for the past 30 years. And none of them ever caused me the stress and angst that this sale did. So while it’s not yet one of those “now you can sit back and laugh at it” experiences, I can honestly say that I learned something from it. I learned that, while it may be possible to be “shallow and sad” it is absolutely and unequivocally not possible to be “shallow and stressed”. Which is my rather lengthy explanation for why I have been absent from this blog for the past 2 months.
So let me tell you about stress and angst because like buying and selling houses, it kind of runs in the family. You see in my neck of the woods “worry” is, quite simply, what we do. And where there’s “worry” there’s sure to be “stress” and “angst”. I can’t remember if I have mentioned this before, and if I can’t remember I’m pretty sure that none of you can, but in my house if there was a conclusion to be made you can bet your bottom dollar it wouldn’t be a good one. Kids home late? Might as well wait by the phone for the call from the police. Called home and no one answers the phone? Better send over an ambulance. Arrive late at your destination? Probably lying in a ditch somewhere not able to call for help since the battery in your cell phone unexpectedly went dead just moments before the accident. Well you get the picture. This is not your run of the mill state of affairs. This particular form of angst stays with you for a very long time. Simply put, it’s not something you wrap up and put away like a leftover piece of brisket. No, I’m afraid to say that this angst is deep and when it invades even a shallow person’s psyche it’s there for the duration.
And so it was that I spent the last couple of months devising scenarios that ended, in all cases, with me living in my house for the rest of my entire life because no one else, anywhere in the whole wide world would want to do so. Then, right smack dab in the middle of everything, and very much to my shock and surprise, the house sold. Believe it or not, it actually sold. To someone else. Finally, after a full two months of what I can only describe as anguish, I was able to take a deep breath. Which is why I am back. Who knows. Perhaps one day in the not too distant future, I’ll find myself writing about this whole experience in the blog. Yes, I’ll do that. Right after I stop worrying about what’s going to happen next.
I’ve been busy. Perhaps not in the conventional sense, or busy like many of you have been. But those walks on the beach each day take quite a long time, and then there’s coffee. Coffee is an event in and of itself. I mean who wants to hurry up and finish when there’s sun, surf and a nonfat, no foam latte all wrapped up in one? So that’s where I’ve been but, as you can plainly see, I’m here now and I have something I want to say.
Hello and welcome to 2015. As you are well aware, long ago I resolved never to make any 
Sometimes when you start thinking about things in a different way you keep thinking about them that way. Sometimes it even makes you wonder why you never thought about those things that way before. Which is what has happened to me over the past three weeks since I last wrote about, what I have now come to know as “degrees of dislike”. It hasn’t been hard to do all that thinking. You see, for the last of those weeks I have found myself sick and pretty much relegated to my chair, yet again. As a result I have confronted first hand something I now know, and am happy to admit, I strongly dislike. Yep. I can now honestly say that I strongly dislike being sick and pretty much relegated to my chair, twice in two months. I mean, who would like that? It’s really not all that pleasant. And when you’re as sick as I was there’s not all that much to do. Which lead me to discover the next thing that I strongly dislike.
Every once in a while something happens that makes you think about things in a way you have never thought about them before. Now I’m not talking about things that turn your world upside down or anything like that. Rather, this is about the things that make you want to give your head a shake because once you have thought about them in an entirely different way you wonder why you had never thought about them that way before. And the funny thing is, it’s often a rather innocuous and otherwise insignificant trigger, an innocent comment by some unsuspecting stranger who has no idea that what they thought was a common turn of phrase had become the catalyst for the revelations you were about to make. Had they known, they likely would not have simply turned and walked away with nary a glance back. But you will remember them forever because, without a doubt they influenced your thinking if not profoundly, at least a little. And you know I wouldn’t be saying all of this if it hadn’t happened to me not so long ago.
