May Day

 It seems odd that the phrase May Day is both a date for a fun, sometimes riotous spring holiday, and also a distress call. 

Both seem applicable. 

The world is blooming. Violets are scattered across my lawn, and dandelions, some going to seed, some still blooming. Dead nettle and clover. My lilacs are blooming. The gentle shy green of new leaves is softening the silhouettes of the trees in my yard.

The sun is rising earlier, setting later. Warm days more often than cold. 

New life.

I am still working on reconciling myself to the reality of Ken's death.

I went to see a house. I went with my sister. She said that since I've been obsessing about this house for a month or so, we may as well go see it. She confessed later that she'd anticipated that seeing the house for real would let me get over my obsessive checking of it on Zillow.

After we toured the house, she was almost as in love with it as I was. Brick and ivy covered. It has a magnificent back yard, with privacy fencing and a big deck- and a second floor deck as well. Clean plaster walls, exposed beams in the ceiling, closets, a sauna.

Wow!

For about a day, I was convinced I would buy this house.

Then, I started talking myself out of it. Yes, I could buy it- probably cash- but could I afford the upkeep? I don't clean- how would I keep it clean? What if it needs something expensive- a new roof? Plumbing issues?

It's in Flint!

It's huge- almost two and a half times my present home. 

But I could rent space to people to cover the costs of utilities...

But there's so many stairs...

*sigh*

The jury is still out. I don't think I will buy it (today, May 8- on May 5 I was ready to make an offer).

I feel suspended between new life and old, blooming and distress calls.