There were some good things about it.
As she walked her dog around the perimeter of her property she ticked them off: no going into the thickets to get any soccer balls, no shoring up the shed for the chickens before winter, no need to tackle the poison ivy in the spring, the water could just leak in all it wanted from the missing flashing on the roof, the piece of broken stone could cut someone's shin to shreds for all she cared.
Inside, a short rib stew was ready on the stove, her kids' favorite meal. Lots of potatoes this time because they'd been off gluten ever since her middle child had gotten so sick. That reminded her of another good thing, a huge one: no need to fret about the mold in the basement.
Or the crooked toilet, or the cat-shredded wall paper, or the dog pee stains on the oak floors. She wouldn't be needing to refinish the floors, she wouldn't have to remove any wallpaper or fix the broken windows or care any more at all about the falling down house that she bore her three children in.
The cons were few: she would just have to figure out where to move, she just had to figure out how to pay for the move, and she would just have to move.
But the worst thing: she had to figure out how to tell the kids they would be moving, and moving in a hurry.
"More meat and gravy honey?"
This is my entry to @mariannewest freewrite challenge: @mariannewest/day-499-5-minute-freewrite-sunday-prompt-meat-and-gravy-1551589645
Note to self: I wrote for exactly five minutes, just freaking took off and wrote, then took all the time I needed to proofread.