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Ranty rants. There are A Lot of things I really, really, really don’t like about where we live. The highlights lately are: having a stink bug fall from the ceiling and land 3 inches from my dinner plate so I could watch it in its death throes. Finding a slug on my sofa a few minutes ago. Lest you think I am a terribly filthy person, someone with no housekeeping skills whatsoever, let me assure you that I am not. My mother was a terrible housekeeper, therefore I am fastidious. To the point of fanatical almost.

I keep telling The Colonel this place is too much for us. Which he acknowledges. But he wants to make so many “improvements” before we even try to sell it. I’m worried about 2 things. 1. He will have *another* heart attack and die leaving me with all this. And 2. How many investments will be necessary until the point of diminishing returns? Really, where is the point where improvements are smart and will we be able to sell this mess for what it’s worth? It’s actually worth quite a lot now, unimproved.

::SIGH::

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otherearths_outthere

August 2023

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