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Did St. Joseph Deliver? | Week 20 Post-layoff

St. Joseph worked! We got a house offer that triggered adventures including a TV purchase requiring a rental van. Sometimes imperfect action wins.
St. Joseph statue next to prayer card showing the patron saint of home and family, used in the traditional home selling ritual.
The St. Joseph statue and prayer card that started it all - buried upside down in our yard, he delivered an offer from the very first showing after we buried him!

TL;DR: Yes, he sure did! We got an offer from the first showing after burying him, which triggered a week of adventures including a TV purchase that required a rental van.

"Is the battery in it?" Bryan asked, as I stared at our camera that refused to turn on.

I was certain I'd tested it months ago. But when I opened the battery compartment—nothing. No battery at all! Sometimes the solution really is the most obvious thing.

What started as a slow Sunday learning how to use our new camera quickly escalated into a very eventful week. By late Monday night, we had a signed contract on our house. By Thursday, we were standing in a Costco parking lot with a TV that couldn't lay flat, brainstorming rental van solutions. St. Joseph had indeed delivered—and brought a whole new set of adventures with him.

This Week's Reality Check:

  • ✓ Finally learning to use our camera (battery required!)
  • ✓ Received and accepted an offer on our house from the first showing after burying St. Joseph
  • ✓ Survived a showing time mix-up that had us "making" and "unmaking" the house twice
  • ✓ Bought a new TV that required a rental van adventure
  • ✓ Negotiated estate sale contracts and stood our ground on terms
  • ✓ Planned our transition timeline while juggling priorities

What We're Actually Doing:

When Simple Tasks Become Adventures

Sunday started peacefully. We took a break from the constant bookkeeping and house prep to have a slow morning—walking the dogs, eating breakfast, watching YouTube videos on our camera. I'd been wanting to spend some time learning our camera that we bought last fall, but the pace of layoff recovery, year-end bookkeeping, and house preparations kept us distracted from other interests.

I pulled out the camera from its protective case, complete with all the pieces and parts I'd carefully organized. After struggling to turn it on for about a minute, we plugged it in, assuming it needed charging. We fired up YouTube to find a beginner's guide. When the camera turned off while plugged in, we figured it was fully charged.

But when we unplugged it and brought it over to watch the tutorial, I still couldn't get it to turn on. That's when Bryan asked the obvious question: "Is the battery in it?"

I was sure it was there—I'd taken a few test photos months ago. But surprise! No battery. Sometimes the simplest explanation is right in front of your face. Once the battery was properly installed, everything worked perfectly. The beginner's guide on YouTube by Jordan Hetrick was incredibly helpful, if you ever find yourself needing some DJI Action Pro 5 camera help.

At 9:00 that night, we received another showing request for noon the next day. We knew we'd be spending a few hours prepping and wouldn't get much work done. Little did we know, this was an understatement of what the week would bring!

St. Joseph's Dramatic Entrance

Gray cat looking out through metal wire carrier door, sitting in the back of a car during a house showing preparation.
Our cat waiting in her carrier in the back of the car during the showing.

Monday morning brought our now-familiar house-staging routine. Bryan stuffed towels in the openings under the kitchen cabinets and we closed doors to all other rooms so our cat couldn't find hiding spots. Everything went like clockwork, and we were out the door twenty minutes early.

We drove past the house down the street (potential buyers often look at our house and that house) and saw a car in the driveway with an agent waiting on the porch. At the park we hang out at during showings, we waited for our Ring doorbell to announce visitors.

Woman in baseball cap and gray shirt sitting cross-legged on pavement next to a white and brown dog, with phone charging cable visible, waiting during a house showing.
Waiting with our rescue dogs in the parking lot during our showing.

12:10—nothing. 12:15—nothing. 12:20—nothing.

Feeling frustrated by what seemed like an unprofessional no-show, we returned home at 12:30 and began "unmaking" the house—pulling out water bowls, cat tower, blankets, litter box. Bryan had just started cooking lunch when the doorbell rang.

The same car we'd seen at the other property for sale was now in our driveway.

The agent mentioned he had a showing of our house from 12-1. We showed him our notification: 12-12:30. Apparently, there'd been a time mix-up. He had a client in Colorado and was doing video walkthroughs.

"Give us a few minutes," we said, and we began undoing the "unmaking"—putting everything back in showing mode. He walked around filming and talking, and by the end, he told us we had a really nicely renovated house. He told us that, normally, he points out flaws and issues on his videos, but he didn't have anything bad to say about ours.

After he left, we "unmade" the house again and finally ate lunch.

That afternoon, while talking to my mom during our dog walk, we received an email with a purchase offer! It wasn't from that day's showing—it was from Saturday's showing. The first showing after burying St. Joseph!

The already jam-packed day got even longer as negotiations and paperwork went back and forth late into the night. At 11:30 PM, we had an executed contract! The seven-day option period would start Tuesday and end Memorial Day.

When "DO NOT LAY FLAT" Changes Everything

Thursday brought unexpected freedom when the buyers canceled their inspection, choosing to use our pre-listing inspection instead. With time on our hands and Memorial Day sales calling, we decided it was the perfect moment to check out properly sized furniture options and replace our decade-old TV.

After sharing lemon-blueberry pancakes and vegan breakfast sandwich biscuits at our favorite spot, we headed to Costco as soon as it opened. We looked at TVs, measured the box, measured the car, asked them to hold it, checked competitor prices, and returned a few hours later to purchase it.

Pleased with our research thoroughness, we wheeled it out to the car. That's when we noticed the crucial detail we'd missed: "DO NOT LAY FLAT."

That was our plan—and the only way the TV would fit in our car. We tried every possible angle. No luck.

After brainstorming solutions, I found a rental van company nearby. While I reserved and picked up the van (stopping at Home Depot for bungee cords), Bryan waited in the parking lot under a shade tree with the TV on a cart. It was only about 94 degrees that day! He'd finished his entire 40-oz water bottle by the time I returned an hour later.

White RAM rental van parked in a store parking lot under cloudy skies, used to transport a TV that couldn't lay flat in a regular car.
Rental van to the rescue!

We loaded the TV, secured it with bungee cords, drove 40 minutes home, and unloaded it into the garage. Since we had the van for four hours, we took a breather to cool off with the dogs before driving back to return it. We finally got home after 7 PM.

Talk about turning a simple purchase into an all-day adventure!

Standing Our Ground

Wednesday brought contract negotiations of a different sort—with estate sale companies. After our first choice refused to include sale dates in their contract (insisting "the dates are in the email"), my contract-review instincts kicked in. It seemed far too easy for them to change dates and then charge us a cancellation fee.

When I insisted the dates be added to the contract and their answer didn't change, we walked away. I immediately called three other estate sale companies to find a better fit.

In the middle of these calls, we received a text that the buyers had canceled Thursday's inspection. We panicked a little—were they backing out? Were they just rescheduling? Our agent was MIA in meetings most of the day.

It wasn't until after our call with a new estate sale company (who had no problem putting dates in their contract) that we finally heard from our agent. The buyers had decided to use our pre-listing inspection rather than pay for their own, and he let us know that they'd ordered their appraisal. "That's great news", he said.

Relief! For now, we don't have to worry about showings or inspections—we can focus on work and planning our transition.

Preparing for What's Next

Glass bowl filled with colorful stir-fried vegetables and seasoned protein showing meal preparation for busy days ahead.
Bryan's meal prep magic: fueling us through busy days.

Thursday's estate sale decision led to a bigger realization: we're going to sell as many things as possible to create space for what fits in the tiny house. We're looking at it as a fresh start with less space—better to get rid of "regular house" sized items now rather than struggle with selling things that don't fit later.

We did the same thing when we downsized from our house to an apartment in Chicago, and it worked well. We're selling things we aren't using or that will be too large for our new space, so we can purchase a few, select items that we'll actually use and that will fit perfectly.

The timing feels right. Most of our furniture has been in this house for almost exactly a decade. While we've replaced our bed and couch, it'll be fun to see what's out there and choose pieces specifically for our new lifestyle.

Motivated to Keep Moving Forward

Throughout all these experiences—from missing camera batteries to contract negotiations to rental van adventures—we keep taking steps forward and facing whatever comes our way. Some challenges we expected; others (like TV transport logistics) caught us completely off guard.

What strikes me most is how St. Joseph's success created a cascade of decisions and actions. Getting the offer didn't just mean "house sold"—it meant shifting into transition mode, making a purchase for our future home, negotiating with service providers, securing temporary housing until the tiny house is ready and preparing for our next chapter.

Each challenge requires creative problem-solving. Each step forward reveals new considerations we hadn't anticipated. But we're handling them one at a time, whether that means following YouTube tutorials, standing our ground on contracts, or turning a simple TV purchase into a memorable adventure.

As Harry Truman once said, 'Imperfect action is better than perfect inaction.' That pretty much sums up our week.

The tiny house journey continues to unfold. Our house sale is progressing. And in the meantime, we're learning that it's okay to get the 'simple' things wrong at first—taking action despite imperfect knowledge still leads to good results.

Let's Talk:

  • Have you ever had a "simple" purchase turn into an unexpected adventure?
  • What's the most creative solution you've had to come up with when facing an unexpected challenge?
  • How do you maintain momentum when one success creates a whole new set of tasks to handle?

Here's to facing whatever comes next with creativity and humor,

-Kathy & Bryan

Note: This post is part of our weekly "Reinventing Midlifehood" series, chronicling our journey of working toward intentional living and rediscovering what matters after a midlife career transition. If this post was shared with you, we hope you'll join us as we explore the freedom that comes from choosing your own path rather than following conventional paths.