‘A loved one wishes to inherit nice things from you. Not all things from you - Margareta Magnusson

I just read The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning by Margareta Magnusson. It sounds slightly morbid, but it was a great book.

Empty and broom clean. The most misunderstood words in real estate. This is not rocket science, but time and again, excited buyers show up at a walkthrough to find an assortment of haphazard randomness in basements, garages, and sheds. The day they have been anticipating for weeks is clouded by an unsightly mess of leftover chemicals, paint cans, shelving units and garden tools.

I took the long way home the other night to see the holiday light displays in the neighborhood. House after house was lit up with candles in the windows, white lights and spotlights showcasing balsam wreaths on front doors. They were all tasteful and pretty and another word that kept coming to mind. . .boring.

I chose the placebo effect for my 5th grade science fair project. To illustrate, I poured 7UP into a Sprite bottle and had my classmates drink it and answer questions about the flavor. Most believed without question that they were drinking Sprite based on the power of suggestion. Looking back, it wasn't the best presentation, but my ten year old self thought it was genius.

House finches. They flew in with twigs and branches in their beaks and I watched as a nest began to take shape. Their little home sits on top of the gutter in a corner. It is sheltered from the weather by the soffit and in perfect view from my sunroom windows. I doubt they agonized over the location or the materials they used, they just showed up one day and got to work. The finished product is not much to look at; small and messy with branches dangling below the gutter. The chicks have hatched and despite the size and disheveled nature of their home, it suits their needs perfectly. Isaac Newton said, ‘Nature is pleased with simplicity and nature is no dummy.’

I was in the living room when I heard my dog Teddy whining. He believes his job is to sit on my lap as soon as I sit down, and for as long as I am seated. It is a job he takes seriously and usually comes running when he hears the recliner open no matter where he is in the house. I went to investigate and found him pacing beside the couch in the sunroom. He's 12 and his vision and depth perception aren't what they used to be so this slightly higher couch sometimes gives him trouble. The thing is, he has never whined to jump onto an empty couch.

Deep red walls and dark walnut hardwood with matching wood blinds set the mood in our family room when we moved in. It was one of the first rooms I painted. I covered the red with Benjamin Moore's Edgecomb gray and removed the dark blinds replacing them with light filtering top down bottom up shades. The mood went from brooding to calm. I think I heard the walls let out a sigh of relief when my roller covered the last trace of red.

The sun was shining, birds were chirping, the sky a cloudless blue backdrop against the budding trees. It was the kind of day that makes you appreciate the warmth of the sun on your skin for the first time after months of cold weather. Sitting by the pool with my daughter it felt like a top ten spring afternoon. Feeling adventurous, I got up and dipped my toe into the water sending ripples across the surface. I immediately yanked it out. It felt like ice. Painful, bone chilling cold in stark contrast to the warmth of the sun. The idea of swimming this early in the season was a bit aggressive anyway so I returned to lounging.

It was December 31st, 2017 and my husband and I were in Camden, Maine for a night away without the kids. We sat on a tufted leather sofa in the hotel bar in front of a crackling fire and reflected on the year past and our plans for the future as the clock edged closer to midnight. We talked about the projects we wanted to get done on the house, the trips we wanted to take and life in general. It was one of those nights that I felt like we had it all together.

I wished for a back button, a way to undo what I had started. Delete, delete, delete! If only I could rewind to just before I applied the first coat of paint and change course.

It was an idyllic day in our house - except for the fight. The whole family was home, snow was falling, the dog was napping by the fire (in between bouts of intense barking at the plows), my stomach was grumbling in anticipation as the smell of homemade cinnamon rolls baking in the oven reached my nose.

Seven socks without matches. Every time I washed a load of laundry, they would appear at the bottom of the basket as if mocking me.