Pins and Needles

The whole house-buying thing has seemed so far away and hypothetical until yesterday, and now the anxiety is setting in. The option period expires tonight at midnight, so we have to resolve all outstanding issues or cancel the contract and start over from scratch, possibly losing the house if the sellers have a back-up offer.

On Thursday evening we had the home inspection, and considering that this house is almost 50 years old it's in remarkable condition. However, there are a couple of things that need to addressed. The second bathroom, which hadn't been updated like the master bath, is full of leaky pipes and loose fixtures. This isn't a huge deal, and we're fortunate that the whole house isn't full of plumbing like this. Also, the air conditioner isn't cooling as well as it should. It probably just needs some more freon or whatever environmentally correct coolant is being used these days.

The other thing, however, is potentially a big deal. They installed the water heater too close to the floor, which could be a serious fire hazard. Evidently, flammable fumes tend to accumulate not more than 12 inches off the floor, so a gas water heater has to be installed with the flame at least 18 inches high. The home inspector claimed that he knew of a child who was killed in a flash fire because of this exact problem. I feel very strongly that any house I live in should not have a high likelihood of burning me alive.

There is a sticker on the water heater that specifically states that it must be installed 18 inches off the floor. Another one of the minor issues that the inspector found is that the garage door opener switch is also too close to the ground. It also features a sticker explaining that it has to be at least 5 feet high. I'm wondering if the homeowner had a midget contractor make the updates.

We submitted a request to the sellers that they get the AC checked and fix the bad pipes and the lethal water heater, so now we are just waiting for their response. If they tell us they won't make the repairs, we'll have to decide if we're willing to take the house at the current price anyway. At this point I'm almost ready to put up with anything so we can just get this wrapped up. Anything but a fiery death, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

Re: FW: A Love Story in 4 Pictures

You may remember the inappropriate-email-sending lady. I'm going to have to forgive her a little bit for forwarding this along.

A Love Story in 4 Pictures

Jinxing It

A couple of weeks ago The Husband and I started house-hunting. I thought this would be great blog-fodder. However, the story has worked out something like this:

We looked at houses.
We picked a house.
We made an offer on a house.
The owners of the house accepted our offer to buy their house.

This house to be exact.



Everything has gone bewilderingly smoothly. Of course now we have a month of suspense to live through, waiting on inspections and financing and whatnot. Let me throw caution to the wind and take you on a tour of our chickens before they hatch.

Here's our soon-to-be front porch.


The front room and formal dining


The den


Also the den


The kitchen


The master bedroom


The best part: the party porch


That brown thing in the lower right? That's the corner of the 8-person hot tub.

In the interest of full disclosure, none of this is our furniture or decor, of course. We don't have nearly enough belongings to furnish this place. The first thing I intend to purchase is a bar for the party porch, unless you count the fancy ice bucket I acquired this weekend in anticipation. It came with a tong caddy!

May you all have many happy hours enjoying the party porch and the tong caddy. (Keep your fingers crossed.)

What the Hell, Liver?

Last night I went to a pub with the lovely Sealegs Sophie and that charming curmudgeon Traivor. I admit I was fully intending to push my blood alcohol level up past the legal driving limit, but somehow things got out of control. After about a bottle of wine I had to get Sealegs to fill out my credit card receipt for me because I had lost the ability to write the number 5.

Once I got home, I lost consciousness fell asleep on the bathroom floor - the downstairs bathroom. I couldn't make it upstairs. Even on the Night of the Handlebar Mustache I managed to go upstairs and get in bed, and there was a lot of tequila involved that time.

Now, I know a whole bottle is quite a bit to drink in one sitting, but I've had an entire bottle of wine before while just waiting for people to show up to a party. There was no reason for the sloppiness of last night over 5 glasses of wine.

Liver, you let me down.

Operation Hat: Mission Accomplished

I cast on a hattish number of stitches with a super bulky yarn on size 11 20-inch circular needles. Then I knit a tube in K1, P1 ribbing about 20 inches around and 7 inches long and sewed up one end. Voilà! (Which is French for hat.)

Tiny Fists of Fuzzy Rage

I just spent half an hour poorly executing an idea that is probably only amusing to me.



This was the best I could do with Paint. Also, I'm not sure I like the caption any more. I'm leaning more towards, "You want a piece of me?" I am open to suggestions.

I hope Cute Overload doesn't mind that I stole this belligerent little hammy from them.

My 1/4 Year Resolution

I am committing to finishing the goofy knitting projects I've been dawdling with and starting something really cool by the end of March. Here's where I am right now.

1. Ridiculous Hat. I had this awesome ball of rainbow colored yarn and no idea what to do with it, so I'm inventing a hat and figuring out how to knit in the round.





2. Giant, Shapeless, Very Soft and Fuzzy Sweater. My first attempt at knitting something not for a baby. What you see here is a back and 96% of a front. I still need 2 sleeves and a neck. Somehow it's coming out way too big despite the fact that I could have sworn my gauge was accurate.



So, in conclusion, I shall finish these two projects just in time for it to be too warm to wear them. I shall then start way better projects that will not be complete until it is too cold to wear them.

Over the Counter Comedy

I went to Target today to attempt to buy a cane for The Husband. I thought they would probably be near the pharmacy, but I couldn't find one, so I asked one of the pharmacists if they sold canes. She wasn't sure and wandered into the back to ask the other pharmacists, but it turned out that this Target doesn't sell canes.

It was no big deal, and I continued browsing among the other health-related items. Then I realized I could hear the pharmacists mocking my question. It was OK though, because it was funny.

No, we don't sell canes here. We don't support caning. I mean, I personally don't mind it, but the company doesn't support it.

On another note, I think I have been terribly spoiled by our consumerist culture. I went out today to purchase an extra-large trash can, a cane, and some sugar-free gummy bears. I was actually annoyed that I had to go to two different stores to get all three of these items. (Actually, I settled by getting jelly beans instead of gummy bears. Otherwise, I would have had to go to three stores.) Super Wal*mart probably would have all three things.

So which would have been less responsible - to waste gasoline and contribute to global warming and pollution by driving around trying to find everything I wanted, or to shop at Wal*mart and support a company that discriminates against women and minorities, undermines efforts by employees to unionize, and destroys small business?

P.S.
Sugar-free Jelly Belly jelly beans: Bad.
Sugar-free Jelly Belly gummy bears: Good.
Sugar-free Jelly Belly fruit slices: Really Good But Don't Eat Too Many Seriously.

The Husband

It's a good thing The Husband is all cute and helpless right now because of this conversation we had yesterday:

I'm blah, blah, blahing about some potential career plans I might have. He makes a sound like he wants to say something, so I ask, "What?" He says, "Nothing. It's just that you sounded like you knew what you were talking about there for a second."

!

Anyway, poor The Husband was a victim of some slippery grass on a hill and has hurt himself pretty badly. There's nothing that makes you feel married to a person like helping him put his pants on. He couldn't make it up the stairs to go to bed last night, and it seems to have upset Dizzy Wizzy Kitty. I think she thinks cat-Mommy and cat-Daddy are fighting, what with the cat-Daddy sleeping on the couch and all. We've reassured her that it has nothing to do with her and sometimes cat-Daddies fall down and hurt themselves. It's not her fault. I doubt we'll have to resort to cat-therapy.

I can't blame The Husband too much for his surprise at my momentary articulateness (see - totally momentary). I chatter at The Husband for an hour straight sometimes. If you added up all the words I have ever said to everyone on the earth ever, it still wouldn't add up to the amount of stuff I've said to The Husband over the past several years we've been together. Rather than being insulted at his surprise when I sound knowledgeable, I'm just impressed he's still listening.

Why Public Broadcasting Is Vital

Only they can provide this kind of insightful President's Day programming.