The old house is clean and waiting. We have spent the last two days getting her ready for the renters. All the cobwebs, dust and sand are gone. The porch has been swept and the fridge cleaned out. There remains nothing to remind them that we were here at all. All personal items are banished to the owners' closet. Sad, isn't it?
They will discover the sticking kitchen drawer and the toilet that flushes slowly. They will fill the fridge with their food and maybe it will be more exotic than ours. We left the sand toys and balls that were not used this year. I hope their kids enjoy them. The house is wating for them.
What they won't have is the history that we have. I know how the screen on the front door got broken. I know who slept where and who likes the the back bedroom most. We all know who painted the birds on the stairs. The ugly mugs in the kitchen make me laugh every summer, but no one wants to toss them out. One of the slipcovers is currently being held together with duct tape.
The owners' closet isn't locked, but I hope that the renters will respect our privacy by not opening it. My cherry mug is in there as is the new one I bought for my other half. The rest of the stuff looks like a photo album of times past. Cast off baby toys and other special things including our signature cups with the cottage number on them are in there too. That stuff as well as the ancient furniture is waiting for the family, our family, to return. The cottage waits for another summer.
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