I'm trying again to buy a house. Yeah, yeah, I know, I said it was impossible. Well. It looks as if I might have been wrong about that. So I'm trying again, this time leveraging even more money, which is pretty scary, and aiming for the wild ass hippie house I thought I couldn't afford. Guess which one from the second paragraph of this post, hee. I looked at a lot of houses and I haven't even blogged about some of the primo stuff I saw, including one that apparently came complete with about 100 migrant workers - I mean, they were obviously living there, probably in shifts, and how would you go about evicting them and then ever live with yourself again? It's funny how looking at house after house after house gets you to a point where they begin to blur together like the dresses on the clearance racks at TJ Maxx, and in the same way as at TJ Maxx you end up making these summary decisions: No, No, Maybe, Huh, Yes. Then, though, one house (that would be the Huh one, of course) will just stay in your head. Like this one did to me, as I slowly began to admit that while I have always wanted to be the kind of person who can live in a tiny beautiful dollhouse and have minimal stuff and a perfect miniature garden, in actual fact I have never succeeded in actually becoming that kind of person. In actual fact I am kind of a sprawling, juryrigged, quirky person and I think I will be happier, in the long run, in a sprawling, juryrigged, quirky house. So - here we go again. Keep your fingers crossed. Let's all hope for the best. If this one doesn't come through I'm in big trouble, because there is nothing, but nothing, else out there that I've seen even remotely in my price range that I have any interest in whatsoever.
Oh and in other news, it's hot as HELL (I'm dreading going home to my air conditioning free, negatively insulated abode,) young M is back from his tour of the middle east - the mid east Atlantic region, that is - and the groundhogs or something else have eaten all the beans in the garden again, grrrrr.