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banzai descent
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overheard in New York
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our little house our perfect little house up on the hill where we got married is now for sale. 
I will miss this home, our first home, the house that I walked into one day and said This Is It this is the one we will live in this house it was the first one we saw and it is old and beautiful and I am just now sad to see it go.
We just listed the old house the house on the hill and now every day is groundhog day we wake up and put it in order and light the candles pull back the drapes water the flowers and get it ready to be looked at by strangers who will poke around in our closets and peer at my photos and leave real estate cards on the dining room table that ben spent a weekend refinishing.
it's just a building really just a frame but inside of it we - ben and I and little Miss Lu - inside of it we built a life a family a home. the bricks in the patio we made are over a hundred years old we bought them from a one-eyed anarchist on 135th street. the elephant tree we planted last year has leaves that smell like peanut butter. it took four piano movers to get my childhood music into our dining room and we have learned to laugh at the green and yellow tile in the bathroom and the funny drips from the kitchen sink and the way the floor tilts settled into the hill at odd angles over the past hundred years. it's just a building but I will miss this sweet place I will miss neighbor tom peeking over the fence to watch us run through the sprinklers trying to get Lucy to play but she only barked. I will miss the park across the street kids playing tiny little boys in huge football helmets running the wrong way on the field dads laughing and the soccer games on sunday nights even the guy who sometimes sleeps under the trees shopping cart nearby ready to pick up our cans and bottles for the five cent return.
