Monday, November 12, 2007

We just walked in off the street...

2pm yesterday- J goes to an open house at a place with, like, 12 square feet of space. It's thriftstore cheap, and it's in a neighborhood we like so it seems worthwhile to look.

2:10- Seeing that access to the one bathroom (no shower!!!!!!!!!!!?) requires going through what would be our kids room, J wisely decides to politely leave.

2:15- Just around the corner he notices that another house that caught his eye has people in it.

2:30- He emerges from the house with a halo of bluebirds chirping around his head and some squirrels pulling at his pants leg. A racoon fishes his cell out of his coat pocket and dials my number for him.

4- In the middle of a grindingly boring rehearsal (Orff= not "the man" in relation to viola parts when orchestrating. Snore.) I can't stop thinking of the fact that J called a house beautiful and that he knows what a coved ceiling is. And that he practically squeaked, "it's so cute!"

8am today- We obnoxiously call the agent for the house to see if she can let us see it.

9am- We skip from room to room pointing out things we like. Like that there are lots of rooms (4+) and that it was build in 1908 and that the original hardwoods are there, under some new carpeting only recently put down. Also at some point the owners bought the lot next door, removed the buildings and made a honkin' big yard. We think the only reason it hasn't sold is that they bought their paints at Drab Bros. Taupe-Grey Emporium and appear to have had an aversion to plants of any sort.

5pm- The agent meets us at a coffee shop and we make an offer.

6:30pm- While eating dinner I realize I'm not worried about this one either way. If we don't get it then we don't have to move. If we do, then I get to live in a rad old place and J can walk home for lunch.

8pm- We go back and walk around the adjacent blocks with our Meth-dar (like radar, see?) on high, but all we see are sweet well-maintained craftsmen and cozy Tudor cottages. There is a dog in the next yard, but when I tell it to cram it, it does. And then after a few minutes the pup's owner comes out to see who's snooping around yammering about expanding this, building that and debating the qualities of arbor vitae vs. your leafier hedges. When there are two wierdos in the yard of the vacant house next door, you want the kind of neighbor who'll come out to see what's what as far as I'm concerned.

Looking at it all laid out like this, I realize it's kind of like proposing to somebody after meeting them on your first day at the tabernacle or something. Shazah!

ps. We can't do "Noah", sadly, because then it's Noah Ward. No Award. Huh- sigh.

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