a deed, indeed

I’m going to be more positive. I think my blog can often whine.

We’ve done the deed and purchased a house. Contact is accepted, a bunch of paperwork is being done, money is changing hands. The American economy is strong.

It’s a two-level place with seven (yes, seven) bedrooms as currently configured. Corey is going to rip out the walls downstairs that create three bedrooms, and we’ll turn that level into a large, open living room and big dining room. The upstairs will keep four bedrooms with a full bath and master bath to follow. We got a very good price on a place this size while staying in the same school district for the kids – a primary goal. The commutes for us won’t change, time or distance, but the boys will have a longer bus ride to school. X did a load of the work on this, and I played the role of agreeable co-dependent. We’re very happy to have our own place with no limits on what we can do to it over the next few years – the longer view being 7-8 more years in this area. I can’t imagine what the gardens will look like in three or four years. The picture above is the backyard. The front of the house picture at the Web site isn’t the best so I’ll hold off on more photos until we get in and sorted.

I’m allegedly heading back to school in January to finish up the degree. I have three more classes – they weren’t offered at night this quarter so I was out of luck – and should be done in late March. From there, I still have one year of GI Bill benefits so I may move to community college and take some courses of interest to me. Or, as X asks, “why don’t you get certified as a massage therapist?” I think I see where she might be going on this one. Food. Massages. Maybe I can go to housekeeping college.

All the kids are home and healthy. The cats are fine. We’re doing great.

The move will be a very sudden evacuation between Christmas Day and New Year’s. We should close on the 23rd of December with nine days to sort out the place. Based on the just-completed military operations call from CINC-house, I’m responsible for victuals three-times-per-day from the 23rd to the 29th while they rip out walls and carpet (new, ugly white…anyone need 1000 sq. ft of carpet?), patch the wood floor, sand and re-varnish. 30th and 31st will be actual moving from The Hilltop. This has all been dubbed Christine’s Happy Holiday Moving Blast. We’ll keep a solid audio, video, and photographic blog of the festivities. I may have to set-up a field kitchen in that back shed.

Love to all.

t

moving across the plains

The new digs are just fine; full of boxes and miscellany but great nonetheless. The Eleven was pondering the amount of stuff we’ve moved and I’m shocked that it all fit in the old small two bedroom place. As X pointed out, it was packed like a ship at sea with everything strapped to the walls and locked into place in case we encountered heavy chop; we used to strap the boys in at the table. I think, using her term to describe my shock, the apartment was like a tube of toothpaste: we got everything out but there’s no way we could ever get all of it back inside. Ever. Speaking of the olden two-bedroom place: three years and four people mean a whole lot of scrubbing and elbow grease to get in order to finish out the deposit dance. X spent two-and-a-half hours last night just removing all the shelves, bolts, hooks, curtain rods, and trapezes she’d installed over the years. But, we’ve woken up the last two mornings looking lovingly at the jungle that canopies over the new back garden.

I had an entry about two years ago that flippantly threw out the name of a girl I’d attended elementary school with for three or four years in Omaha. Her name back then was pretty distinctive so it wouldn’t be much of surprise if she googled herself while sitting around the house one evening. I didn’t even think of that when I was typing away; seems so obvious now, don’t ever say I’m not on top of things. Anway, she found the entry and sent me a very funny e-mail proclaiming her fifth-grade love for another boy; we all knew about that back in ’75 but it was curious just how quickly it came up – we remember so much about when we were that age and trundling through our little kid lives. I reminds me of just how strong emotions are when you’re young and how much of an imprint childhood events hold even decades later. I try to remember this when I’m fighting laughter as one of the girls tells me about the distress of the days, not real distress, but elementary school distress. In fact, G. has a ‘girlfriend’ in his fourth-grade class who’s completely entranced by everything he does and is certain she’ll someday marry him. He pretends to hold her in disgust but he’s really in love with her: I’m certain that come 2041 he’ll remember everything about her.

I don’t know if I mentioned that the driveway at the new place is set at about a 45-degree climb, seriously. Once you hit the “up” bit you’ll be staring at sky and clouds, trusting the engine and grip, and hoping you’ve lined up The Ring (the new golden car) before you kicked down hard and activate the thrusters. Trust that you’ll eventually come level and feel the G-suit release as you land your craft on the terra firma of the flatlands.

I’ve sort our new mass transit options for Falls Church. I know, I know…

t.