As of around 5:00 this afternoon, Otto and I are now the proud owners of three houses. We think it’s good to have a couple of spares around, just in case, you know.
He did carry me over the threshold, though he didn’t throw me in the pool… probably because the pool was still looking a little scary. (The pool people are coming tomorrow to finish readying it, which I hope means they will be vacuuming up the fuzzy stuff floating all over the bottom, because EWW.)
I didn’t accidentally sign my old name even once on the mortgage paperwork! A good way to learn your new name is to sign it eleventy billion times on pieces of paper that say things like “I agree to repay the bank a million trillion dollars in interest or I authorize them to pull off my fingernails and feed them to me while Bette Midler sings.”
During our pre-closing walkthrough of the new house we discovered that the dishwasher is missing the silverware basket. Did they previous owners pack it? We have no idea. They didn’t even come to the closing. They are probably too busy laughing themselves silly over the notion of having stuck us with buying a new roof. Hmph.
After the closing we drove through Sonic and got cherry limeades and headed back to the house and sat out on in the gazebo with our drinks for a while saying things like “Hey! We did it! This is our house!” Then we dangled our feet in the pool for a while because it is about 150 degrees here during the day, and then eventually we went inside and started making a list of stuff we needed to get.
Then we went to Lowe’s and spent all the money we have that we hadn’t just spent on the house on things like paint and cabinet shelf liners and drawer pulls and GCFI outlets and lord only knows what else.
This house that we bought is simply lovely, really, it is, but the people who lived there were very hard on it. I have never seen walls in such sad shape. I mean, really, HOW HARD is it to buy a gallon of paint and cover up wall wear? Or—this is wild and crazy, now—just get a Mr. Clean Magic Eraser and try CLEANING the wall before all that dirt congeals into an indelible layer of slime.
No matter. It will all be fine after a weekend of painting. (Especially the living room, which is getting one wall of a deep metallic copper which required separate loan paperwork to purchase.)
My worldly possessions (save for what came with us in the car) are still in transit, maybe, and the moving company can’t or won’t tell me when I might see them again, we now own THREE FREAKING HOUSES for the foreseeable future, and we’re about to spend two days painting and cleaning and moving Otto’s stuff so that when my stuff comes and the children arrive we’ll be more or less ready for them. I’m tired just thinking about it.
But the Happily Ever After sign is sitting on our new mantle in our new living room in our new house, and so far I’m thinking we picked the right sign.
Happy (somewhat late, and possibly defunct) Love Thursday. May you know the love that empties your wallet at Lowe’s but fills up your heart.