Atomictumor

As newly noted in the sidebar, the famed Cemestos Gardens is for sale! Check out the link provided at right, and for more photos, go here.

3 year-old Lugnut just ran up to me and said, very excitedly, “I have a bag of money!”

I saw in his hands a brown lunch bag, filled with something.  “You have money in there, Lugnut?”

“Yes!  CASH MONEY!”

I took the bag and peeked inside.  It was full of toy elephants.

I wonder if we can use them as a down payment on a new house?

Ah….the holidays are over, and it’s time to start house-hunting again.

We went this morning to look at a house that was less impressive than we had hoped.  The highlight of the viewing was when I opened up the bathroom cabinet and found a lovely red wig.    The house is vacant and otherwise empty.

I find it funny and surprising how much house-hunting is like trying to find a mate.  The way that certain houses attract me — the emotions that build when I think I’ve found The House.  The disappointment when I realize that the house probably isn’t The House after all.  Hell, I think I’ve already found The House a dozen times — just from looking at listings in the newspapers.

It’s funny, too, how much I’m learning about myself throughout this process.  That I’m impatient…maybe a little idealistic and naive…what a fantastic experience this will be!

A little while back I wrote about Grandma Waffle coming to live with us. Initially, the idea was for her to make a couple of trips from Florida, bring up all her belongings, and officially move in with us. Seems pretty straightforward, right?

It makes me think of the parts in Meet the Robinsons where various characters say “I’m just not sure how well this plan was thought through.”

Nothing dramatic, just the simple fact that our house isn’t big enough for 7 people. Waffle, who is used to living quietly by herself, was suddenly thrust into the chaotic goings-on of our 4-kid household. Quiet doesn’t exist here. Neither does privacy. So when Waffle came into enough money to keep her utilities on at her apartment in Florida, she went back. Her lease is up at the end of February…maybe she’ll come back, maybe not. I’ve learned with my mom to expect the unexpected. She craves change, doesn’t mind taking risks, and can’t stay in any one place for very long.

I tend to be much more cautious. I look for the expected, the definite, the factual. I like stability. I don’t mind staying in one place, if that place feels safe to me. Perhaps these are some of the reasons why I am struggling with buying a new house.

Bos and I started looking at houses shortly after we invited Waffle to come live with us. Right off the bat, we found one that we really liked, affectionately called the White House. It’s big enough for all 7 of us, has been recently updated, and is in our price range. It’s not perfect, of course. I’m not wild about the neighborhood, and there are some big unknowns about utility costs. We haven’t really look at any other houses (because there aren’t many decent 4+ bedroom homes that we can afford).

We hemmed and hawed and talked to our agent, friends and family and eventually decided that the time was right to put an offer on the house. So we did. And when the counter offer came back, it wasn’t what I expected. The thing is, the counter offer was reasonable, or at the least could have been made reasonable with a little more negotiating. But I got spooked. I got overwhelmed. I started thinking of all the things that would have to fall into place, and all of the risks we would have to take. Trying to sell Cemestos Gardens over the holidays. Ack. And so I retreated, and we didn’t accept the counter offer.

Which leads us to now. Waffle is gone. Don’t know if she’ll be back. White House is still on the market. We still like it. My head is still spinning from all the changes I was anticipating that didn’t happen. I’m grumpy and not feeling the Christmas cheer. Which makes me even more grumpy, because damn it, I love me some Christmas cheer.

Grumble.

Earlier this morning, Bos was working on removing some molding at the base of the bathroom wall.  We recently bought a new vanity, and it needs to sit flush to the wall, so the molding had to go.

So, about an hour ago, I heard Bos jump up and yell, “turn off the water, turn off the water!” to which I replied, “I don’t know where to turn off the water!”  A call to the Water department solved that.

What happened that required the emergency shut-off of water?  The guys who installed the molding in the bathroom a few years back nailed it through a pipe.  So, when James removed the molding and the nail - voila!  there was a bubbling brook in our bathroom.

Grumble.