How far do I go?

So I'm contemplating selling my house - again - and I'm doing an inventory of what needs to be done to make it more marketable. I mean, it seems sweet and homey and light and airy to ME, but when I look at it with the eyes of a potential buyer, not so much. So I make a list and have to decide which of the most glaring imperfections to deal with.

Bad looking roof? Done and done, along with new shutters and gutters. Now I'm getting the things to go IN the gutters to keep the leaves (and, I'm hoping next year's snow) from clogging them.

Funky looking drywall buckle in the dining room? Had the guy who came in to fix the ice dam damage to fix that and I'll paint it as soon as it's totally dry.

Missing floorboard in Paige's/Lea's/Susanna's room? Next on the list - the guy who has been doing the work on my back room will do that, along with replacing two pieces of siding that blew off.

Big giant tree and big giant tree limb hanging over the back of the house? Scheduled sometime in the next couple of weeks - will be a big expense but has to be done.

Painting of family room ceiling, living room ceiling, and kitchen? Working on that - shouldn't be too bad if I can get the guy to come out. I'm rethinking whether I should do a tile back splash in the kitchen - I remember my mom did one in their house - it was NOT cheap - and when the new owners recently put it back on the market, I could see that they had replaced the lovely tile mural with the little mosaic tiles. So maybe just paint it really nicely and keep it neutral.

Now, for the pricier things (beyond the roof and tree cutting):

Making the yard actually look like a lawn? Ah, it is SO bad that I don't know WHAT it will take to make it actually grow grass. I've deluded myself that I haven't put weed killer or fertilizer on it because I'm uber-green, but the truth is that I'm lazy and also thought I would not be here by now.

Re-doing the upstairs bathroom? While it will be pricey and it IS still functional, I'm convinced that the 1970 vintage avocado green tile (with the oh-so-lovely gold fishes on some of them) is a deal-killer. I may not recoup all that I have to pay to get it done in a nice, neutral motif, but at least it won't scare people off.

Refinishing all the hardwood floors? I have no idea what this would cost, but I'm guessing it might make a difference. Maybe just the back sun room.

This is a very difficult place I'm in, both literally and figuratively. I enjoy walking in the door in the evening and seeing the things I love in a familiar place. But I need to get a smaller place that is all mine, without the grass, leaves, and snow to deal with. And I know that staying here, as easy as that might be, is keeping me in that figurative place I need to get out of. As long as I'm here, I will think of myself as one of four people who lived here happily for a long time; the truth is that I am the only one who still lives here. I remember how sad I was when my parents moved out of their house almost nine years ago - sadder, probably, than they were. I guess maybe part of my reluctance at making a move is that it means acknowledging that I am no longer that young wife and mother who moved in.

But the STUFF that is here that isn't all mine is paralyzing me. The books alone are staggering - I'm tempted to set up a couple of tables along the sidewalk and offering them up to anyone who wants them. Then there are rugs and other stuff in the attic - including a couple of bikes and a sandbox. Every time I set out to throw stuff out, I end up just moving it around.

Yep, gotta keep making lists. But at the top of that list will be "Do some stuff on the damn list!"