ast night we went out to the church, with one of my brothers in tow, and signed a bunch of papers. I believe I've given my signature over 20 times at this point, and we still don't legally own the place. It was pouring down rain, which was sort of the point for me, because I wanted to look for leaks. The inside ceiling looked dry as a bone, and stupid me forgot to go down to the basement. I was too busy running around with a tape measure and flashlight acting like I owned the place.
In point of fact, it's starting to feel like we do own the place.
We had the septic tank checked out today, and word is that the inspector could barely find the words to describe how perfect our waste storage system was. New PVC, new baffles, and the thing was practically empty. Size? 1200 cubic feet. You need 750 for a two bedroom house, so we should be cool if we want to get 3 actual bedrooms. So please, when you feel the urge, and don't know where to turn, bring your Category 5 bowel movements right on over to Towanda. Apparently we're ready for you.
In about 45 minutes a home inspector is coming to check the place out, and that will give us one of the last contingencies in our purchase agreement. Our realtor seemed surprised that we would want to be there during the inspection, which made me wonder why you wouldn't want to be there. It seems sort of like taking your kid to the doctor. Sure, it will probably be fine, but wouldn't you like to be there and know it?
Anyhow, Sally & I are getting increasingly excited about moving in there and learning just exactly what we're up against. We both admitted to a weird phenomenon after driving away last night: for the first time, walking through the unfinished maze of nooks and crannies, the place seemed less overwhelming, and somehow smaller than it has before. Not like the walls were closing in on us, but they just seemed less alien and more tangible than on any other trips. We've started to acclimate and gain some familiarity. Next stop, world domination. Or drywalling. Maybe a little of each.