I went to hell and back to sell my house and all I got was this broken pen.

Oh, and a check that will help put a roof on the new place, but other than that…

Actually, what happened was I stole this pen from the title agency– you know, as a souvenir– and then karma let me know in no uncertain terms that stealing is wrong, and you’ll pay for it with big ink stains on one of the only hole-less shirts you own.

Point for you, karma.

And it sure is a good feeling to have waded through the paperwork-and-house-appraisal gauntlet and come out on the other side in one piece. Mostly.

Garrison Road no longer belongs to me, and I’m going to get real sentimental about that in about six weeks when I have a chance breathe. Until then, we’ve got things to pack, move, clean, build, and haul back from Texas.

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