Yesterday, we held the usual Father’s Day phone calls that with technology have been upgraded to Facetime. With David and Maren’s call, everything was all Declan, as it should be. However, Maren is due one month from today, with baby number two, “the player to be named later.” Another boy who will change everything in Declan’s young life. For the better mind you, but it will be a change. Dan was working from home on his current project. He is making automatons for another immersive theater show. He worked while we spoke. In the course of this conversation, he told us about a new show called Surreal Estate that sported the tagline, “I don’t believe in ghosts!” “Neither do I—I just work with them.” It seemed strangely appropriate to our current situation. 

It has not escaped my attention that Anne and I are now sleeping in the same bedroom where both of my parents have died. Even though neither of them died from unnatural causes, a report of their deaths is required to any potential buyer in the state of California. These thoughts invade my mind as I read through the realtor’s contract. The last thing that we need now is a “stigmatized property.”

This week is shaping up to be a week spent with lawyers and real estate agents. They are both parasites, but between the two, real estate agents tend do less damage to the host. In the course of this week, I’ll try to remain upbeat, get things done and make it through the week. Remaining with this post’s spooky theme, I’ll play the part of the perky flight attendant on the ethereal plane. So, fasten your seatbelts, because it is going to be a bumpy ride. If for some reason things turn south this week and I am tempted to burn this place back to hell or God forbid, even lower the price, I hope you will forgive me. Lower the price?