Waiting for Someone

Trying to sell a house in today's market is a frustrating experience. Our home in Elk Mound has been for sale almost two and a half years now. We've had three realtors and accepted two offers--both of which fell through. I've cleaned the place about 50 times for showings and open houses, and went over there every two or three weeks this summer to mow the lawn. We've had the carpets cleaned, painted inside, and put in a $10,000 mound septic system a week after we moved to Rhinelander. We've steadily lowered the price, but it still hasn't sold.
Friday I drove over again to clean and do yardwork for a showing Saturday and an open house yesterday. Friday I cleaned the gutters on the house, picked three big containers of apples from the tree in the back yard, and packed up the stuff Katie had left there after moving back to Eau Claire for school. Saturday I was up at 7, scouring sinks and showers, mopping floors, vacuuming, knocking down cobwebs, dusting, and sweeping. Then it was outside to mow the lawn, clear branches from a downed tree, and clean up the dog kennel.
Around noon I sat on the deck to eat some yogurt and cool off. I looked around the back yard beneath its canopy of trees as acorns bounced on the deck around me. Down the valley, the trees were just starting to change color, and I heard the clang of the pumpkin launcher at the tree farm as they opened the new season.
As the breeze blew over me, I had an epiphany. I realized that this property isn't going to be purchased by people trying to get it as cheaply as they can or who complain that it needs work. It will be bought by someone who loves the home on the hill, nestled in a clearing surrounded by trees. Someone who wants to see birds and deer and even a bear or two in their back yard. Someone who will feed the stray cats, tame them, and let them come inside on frigid winter nights. Someone who won't mind walking more than a half mile down to the mailbox or parking their car at the neighbor's when it's too icy to make it up the hill. Someone who wants to raise kids and puppies and chickens and maybe even a cow in a peaceful and beautiful setting. Someone who will tell her husband what I told Fred 13 years ago the first time I went there: "This is the place I want. Can we get it?" "Well," he said, "the furnace is going to need replacing soon, and it's more than we were planning to spend..." "Please??"
I know that "someone" is out there. And that's who I want to have our house.