Not my own

I'm too tired to post my, "reflective" thoughts tonight, so instead I thought I'd tell you all something weird that happened today. While my Lady and I sat on the couch watching football, the new owner of my house showed up outside. Over the course of a few hours, he had mowed my entire yard and raked up and hauled away all the leaves that covered the lawn. As he worked, I began to feel like an outsider in my own home. Someone else was taking care of what was once my responsibility. Someone was on my property without being invited. It was an odd feeling.

While none of what happened is actually out of line or wrong, and it's not as if I didn't know things were going to be different, but it really hit me that my home is no longer my home. I was worried about things that I had never been worried about before. I was aware of my personal space more than I ever had been before. And I was protective of my belongings more than I ever had been before. More than at any time before today, I no longer wanted to live here. I love this house and am proud of what it has been for me, but it's time to move on.

I guess this turned out to be reflective after all.