esrosedotblog

SHOCKER

I suppose it was inevitable but I still wasn't prepared for it.

We found out that our old house had been repainted. A deep brown. Chocolate. With black borders.

People seemed to enjoy telling this and watching my response.

I kept up a pretty good front.

But, I was dismayed to hear it.

This came in a covey of other stories about the new guy who seems to be doing alright otherwise.

When I picked up John, he suggested we go by the house and we did.

Awful. Worse than I had pictured.

I have gotten pretty good about letting go of the place. Someone else is with the plants I left behind. Someone else is painting the newish kitchen cabinets red. He told me that and I asked him to stop telling me about it.

But the outside of the house.

It was very retro-fifties. Tannish stucco with a "California turquoise" trim. I know it sounds garish but it is original. The color the house was painted in the 50's.

There are a few houses on Farrell that still have this color scheme.

But "my" house is now shit brown. Forget "chocolate".

Of course, it was night and not at its best.

And I notice that he has put his recycle bin and garbage cans right up front in the carport. Ugly.

There is more but I won't go into it.

A close friend told me that whenever I felt homesick or thought about "my" stuff being ruined by the new owner, I think of the money we got from selling it.

So, this morning, I am thinking of the money.

Chocolate money but still, money. We did OK. It isn't our house anymore.

Labels: nostalgia