Wednesday, December 17, 2008


We had an open house and nobody came.

That's not entirely true. Beth, our realtor's office manager, stopped by. She brought each of our realtors -- Jim and Dana -- a small St. Joseph's statue. As the tradition goes, you bury the statue upside down in your yard and it brings you a buyer.

Not being Catholic, I looked up St. Joseph to see what his deal is. Turns out he's Jesus' stepdad! Mary's husband, the dude who raised Jesus. (I wonder if god paid child support?) Wikipedia has more than I wanted to know about Joe and is totally sketch about what we really want to know: how did little Joe become the upside down, subterranean saint for real estate transfer?

Who thought of this saintly torture? "Okay, Joe, i'm putting you head first in the ground until you sell my house."

My feeling about this and most religious/superstitious traditions (feng shui, sage burning, clapping, etc.) is, hey, they can't hurt.

Dana and I promptly planted the little guy in the front yard, arse over teakettle.

My favorite part of this whole episode is the source of our little icon: I bet the St. Joe kit is the only thing involving "home sales" that's booming.

Monday, December 15, 2008


"I love beach glass so much that I bought a tumbler." -- a wine shop customer

Let's ponder this choice:

a. Go to the beach, day after day, walking along the ocean's edge scouring the shore for those little bits of sparkling treasure, the only time nature conquers human litter to create something beautiful. Breathe in the crisp ocean air, let the water lap around your feet, the wind ruffle your hair. Repeat. Repeat.

b. Break glass, throw it in your tumbler. Turn it on.

Sure, in the end you might have something that closely proximates sea glass, but what have you traded?

Never sell patience short. Impatience rarely pays dividends.

Daily reminders from the universe for those choosing to pay attention.

--got all the outlets in Isabella working
--installed the newly varnished wood on the boom crutch
--decorated the house for Christmas
--took turns the last 2 1/2 weeks being sick

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Tuesday, December 9, 2008


Chip and Tammy should:

a. Wait until their house and business sell before cruising.
b. Keep the business, rent the house and cruise on Isabella (current boat).
c. Sell the house, keep the business and buy an Island Packet to cruise on.
d. Sell the house, and live on the boat until the business sells.
e. Fill in the blank

That's the question we've posed to the universe. The last option is there just in case we're not smart enough to figure out the right option on our own.

Friday, December 5, 2008


Oh, ick. I'm gagging at that title too. And, now that you mention it, I meant fable, not fairy tale.

That old saw about the tortoise and the hare, slow and steady wins the race, came to mind this morning as we were discussing our plans.

I'm a burrower. When it's time to wait for a sign, I just hunker down and wait. A hurricane can pass overhead, and I'll stand planted in one spot and wait, quiet as death.

Chip's a builder. When it's time for a sign, he'll paint one. If a hurricane passes overhead, he'll build a shelter, invite friends and cook a feast. There will be drinks, music.

The burrower and the builder. Vivre la difference!

So here we are, a whole plan laid out: sell everything and move onto a boat, and we're stalled on that first half: sell everything. Now what? I'm prepared to hunker down and wait it out. Chip's agitating, wondering what we're doing wrong, what we can do differently.

My experience with fables is that they're rarely true. That one about crying wolf? We all know that it's the squeaky wheel that gets oiled. And I don't know of any race that can be won by being slow.

We've scheduled another board meeting (with drinks and music) to decide whether to be slow and steady, to squeak, cry wolf or all of those things.

If you're looking for us, we'll be at the table fable-making.

Thursday, December 4, 2008


"The unexamined life is not worth living." --Socrates

If we examine it a LOT does it become more worthwhile?

Our two prospective business buyers phased themselves back down to phase one this week. No one has looked at the house in almost a week. We both have colds. The economy continues being sucked down a black hole. Terrorists attacked Mumbai (which, before this week, I would have sworn was in Africa. Call me Sarah.) The big three automakers have downsized to the tiny three and are groveling before Congress begging for money. (Oh sure, now you decide to drive hybrids.)

We were both feeling feckless, aimless, lost, so we took a page out of Fortune 500 and called a board meeting. (Oh yeah, carmakers! We walked to our meeting.)

The universe had apparently issued us an intermission; we felt we should find ways to use it productively -- other than playing cribbage.

For the small picture, we identified a few more projects and planned an open house next week.

But more importantly, we added a big picture item: reconnecting with friends. We've been lousy friends since we opened the store -- just ask them. And now that we've spent the last few months with the wagons circled, we want to turn our gaze outward, tightening the bonds that are what truly keep us afloat.

And then we played cribbage.

Monday, December 1, 2008


... must be prepared to have patience in difficult times
and to know that the Universe is conspiring in our favor,
even though we may not understand how.
--Paulo Coelho