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Our real estate agent called this morning to let us know our house is going on the market this afternoon.

The cottage is for sale!

The cottage is for sale!

I haven’t peeked at the real estate website to see whether the listing is really up yet. It’s going to feel strange to see our house arranged by a stager, shot by a real estate photographer, and described by our real estate agent to ignite the imaginations of potential buyers.

This isn’t quite our home anymore. Now it’s a cottage for sale.

But that’s okay.

You know the song “A Cottage for Sale,” with those lyrics of heartbreaking wistfulness and regret?

The Cape Cod I lived in till age 4, before my family moved to Columbus.

I lived in this Cape Cod till age 4. From here I moved with my family to Columbus.

Months ago I listened to upwards of twenty renditions on YouTube, planning the post I knew I would write when we put our house on the market. Now I am writing that post and wanting badly to put Judy Garland’s amazing version in.

But readers, while I may feel some wistfulness–I will miss my hairdresser of twenty years desperately–regrets are nowhere to be found. Nope, just excitement and anticipation.

Thursday I fly to Columbus to start making our 1958 fixer-upper our new home. Meanwhile, Jack will stay in Minneapolis long enough to teach his summer classes–

And get this cottage sold.