A nice house popped up on the list. My realtor, Mike, sends me and Dominick and Oma a new one every couple days. We've seen so many. Dominick really is looking for a deal. If we can both have separate units, that's preferred.

Last time we saw one like this -- underpriced -- it had offers on it before we could even make an appointment to see it. So,  I told Dominick that next time, if we like it out-of-the-box, we put in an offer house-unseen. Well, at least by photograph. Everyone gave the nod, via text, to put in a full priced offer. (We later upped it, as multiple offers were coming in on this one, too.)

It listed well below the city appraisal. Let's see. It could work. Half of it is heaven's will. And I believe half of it is my will. The percentages are probably skewed.

Well, dang. So much for my RT. That means Renaissance Time, a time for writing my hopes and future. For singing out loud on paper, for free flowing thoughts and ideas, what and where the spirit takes me. Sure, business ideas included.

This morning, I was sitting on the deck of this cabin, watching the rain pitter-patter intermittent little whaps on the birch leaves, like a child's game of Who Did It - Where Next?  

Listening to nature. About to, anyway. I was thinking that my RT today would take me somewhere in the hearth of mother and father's home. Somewhere comfy. Maybe into the center of heaven, twirling in the feelings of sunlight, casting its glow from behind, irradiating the edges of my silhouette, as I motion circles with my arms, fluttering my extended fingers. That's what I thought. 

Instead. Business-like thoughts intervened this daily sit with blank pages, with 21 minutes allotment, with toasty coffee in my Krispy Kreme mug.

You never know where these RTs will lead. The Alaskan adventure has many mountains to cross and many pages of rivers to ink.

July 19, 2026   10:22 AM