For the last week or two, my daily routine has started around 3:00 am with office work, a 30 minute drive to the old house after sunrise, and painting and scrubbing the place until dark. Drive home, check emails, put out any fires that flared up during the day, and collapse into a coma-like state under a cat or two. Repeat, repeat, repeat.

Yesterday we met with our realtor and signed the papers to officially put the house on the market. This was our first house, one that we’ve owned for more than 20 years. We’ve done a lot to it in that time. When we first saw it, it was carpeted in green shag and covered in shiny panelling with pink-painted trim. Acoustical tile was tacked to every ceiling — and some walls.

It’s been a great house for us but it’s time to move on. Now it’s some other family’s turn to make it their own. The house is 110 years old now and I feel we’ve left it with a good chance at 100 more.