You are currently browsing the daily archive for March 30, 2011.
Yes, it’s true. And I didn’t even throw up on the closing papers. I come close to doing that when I have to hand over large sums of money.
My realtor was amazing, and if anyone in Colorado needs to buy a house, Brad Klein is the guy to see. And the gag-me check that I had to give birth to and give away was even slightly smaller than I had anticipated. There was last-minute drama and delays with the closing, which was supposed to happen on Friday afternoon. But it all came together on Monday.
So, here I am. With one HUGE accomplishment under my belt – I have my own house. No one helped me. I did it all by myself. On my own. Just me. Brave little independent me.
Of course, an hour after I owned it, Brad called to tell me he’d dropped off the keys and that the hot water heater was leaking. Guess that means I really AM a homeowner.
My handyman is coming to purge the bathroom and replace the floor, the tub, the hot water heater and the sink on Saturday. The place is 111 years old and hasn’t been lived in for over a year. I’ve been inside the last few nights, just feeling the little house’s happy energy. It’s looking forward to being loved and transformed. I can do those things well.
I have two lamps from last weekend’s auction in my bedroom, and am playing with paint chips and feeling generally overwhelmed. But it’s all mine (well, and the bank’s, but they’re soulless, so we don’t count them.)
Uber-cool Will says it’s like a full-size playhouse. That’s because he lives in a newish sterile Rock Creek home.Still debating a name for the little place. Real Courage? True Grit? WADU?
Kelsea and I will discuss it. It’s a whole new life.
Photo title: Conch Close-up
Somewhere in the Caribbean.
Quote of the day: “The possibilities are unlimited as long as you are true to your life’s purpose.” – Marcia Wieder
Today’s guest poet – Pablo Neruda
Perhaps not to be is to be without your being,
without your going that cuts noon light
like a blue flower, without your passing
later through fog and stones,
without the torch you lift in your hand
that others may not see as golden,
that perhaps no one believed blossomed
the glowing origin of the rose,
without, in the end, your being, your coming
suddenly, inspiringly, to know my life,
blaze of the rose-tree, wheat of the breeze:
and it follows that I am, because you are:
it follows from ‘you are’, that I am, and we:
and, because of love, you will, I will,
We will, come to be.
