Well, whaddaya know? The closing agency rep actually contacted us late Friday to say that our closing on the Taj MaHell is set for this Tuesday at 3:30pm.
Because she notified us so late, I couldn't get in touch to verify that we can close by mail/fax/overnight document, nor was I able to get an actual amount that we needed to pay. Closing fees are still a mystery, apparently. Maybe it's top secret and we just don't have the level of security clearance to know this sort of thing.
So, the good news is that we may finally close on Tuesday. The bad news is, I may spend Monday running around, getting a power of attorney so that I can sign for both of us, if I end up having to drive 5 hours to the office of the closing agency. I am DESPERATELY hoping that is not the case!
More on this as I figure out which end is up....
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Friday, June 24, 2011
Friday Musings
Hope that you are doing well this Friday. As I write, the sun has decided to finally peek out from behind heavy cloud cover. After about three months of drought, Gilligan's Island got POUNDED with rain yesterday. I ventured across the causeway and was immediately sorry; there were 2-foot-deep puddles on the sides of the causeway and the rain was lashing sideways. While I was gone, Shawn sent me a photo from his phone...two neighbor kids in a canoe. In our FRONT YARD. So, yeah, rain. We has it.
Called and emailed the closing agency contact person to see if we were, in fact, on target to close on Tuesday. No luck reaching her and no return call or email. Apparently, this real estate transaction is destined to be steeped in mystery and intrigue.
Well, I'm not usually one to be content with sitting and waiting, but a sore back/neck/shoulder has really slowed me down, so I think I'll take the hint and go easy this weekend.
Why don't you do the same? Or, if you get into some sort of trouble, tell me all about it!
Called and emailed the closing agency contact person to see if we were, in fact, on target to close on Tuesday. No luck reaching her and no return call or email. Apparently, this real estate transaction is destined to be steeped in mystery and intrigue.
Well, I'm not usually one to be content with sitting and waiting, but a sore back/neck/shoulder has really slowed me down, so I think I'll take the hint and go easy this weekend.
Why don't you do the same? Or, if you get into some sort of trouble, tell me all about it!
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Whatever happened to.....
...the Taj MaHell?
The frantic pace of the bidding process has given way to the paperwork equivalent of a race between molasses and a turtle. I have no idea who would win that race, but I can tell you this: it would be one boring-arse event.
After receiving our latest update on Monday, June 13th (at which time the closing agency was waiting on a water bill), we heard a big fat NOTHING until Monday the 20th. Our contract had expired on the 17th...way to go, Closing Agency, for letting that happen! The new update said we needed an amended contract. So, I contacted the listing agent, who was actually out of town but still FAR more responsive than the closing attorney, and she quickly drafted a contract extension and emailed it to me. We signed it and emailed it to the online auction contact, the closing attorney and the listing agent. I also sent a request to the closing attorney's office, asking if we could confirm that there were no other items outstanding. Do you think I've heard back from them? Yeah, right. (There should really be a 'sarcasm font' on my computer---I would wear. it. out.)
So, if all goes smoothly (insane laughter), we should close "on or before June 28th'. Mind you, in the meantime we can't go on the premises and make any changes or improvements. I am SO TIRED of waiting. I am also tired of tools crammed into my dining room. Oh, and did I mention I got a compound miter saw with the stand? It's sitting in a box on my kitchen counter.
So, come ON, people! Let's get this deal DONE!
The frantic pace of the bidding process has given way to the paperwork equivalent of a race between molasses and a turtle. I have no idea who would win that race, but I can tell you this: it would be one boring-arse event.
After receiving our latest update on Monday, June 13th (at which time the closing agency was waiting on a water bill), we heard a big fat NOTHING until Monday the 20th. Our contract had expired on the 17th...way to go, Closing Agency, for letting that happen! The new update said we needed an amended contract. So, I contacted the listing agent, who was actually out of town but still FAR more responsive than the closing attorney, and she quickly drafted a contract extension and emailed it to me. We signed it and emailed it to the online auction contact, the closing attorney and the listing agent. I also sent a request to the closing attorney's office, asking if we could confirm that there were no other items outstanding. Do you think I've heard back from them? Yeah, right. (There should really be a 'sarcasm font' on my computer---I would wear. it. out.)
So, if all goes smoothly (insane laughter), we should close "on or before June 28th'. Mind you, in the meantime we can't go on the premises and make any changes or improvements. I am SO TIRED of waiting. I am also tired of tools crammed into my dining room. Oh, and did I mention I got a compound miter saw with the stand? It's sitting in a box on my kitchen counter.
So, come ON, people! Let's get this deal DONE!
The Complex World of Kiddie Pools
Um, yeah. About that pool...
Well, we apparently didn't have as level a back yard as we'd thought, because once it was full, the entire soft-sided pool began listing precariously to port. Hard a-port, as the seafaring types might say. Within just an hour or so of being filled, the big pouty lip of the inflated top ring was poised to move from pouty to full-blown droop and drown our poor A/C units. It is so effin' hot here on the Gilligan that I would not think twice about throwing my body in front of the onrushing tide, if I thought it could save the air conditioning.
So, we drained the pool, which was shaping up to take for-stinkin-everrrr until my knight in shining armor brought home a submersible pump. We got to work in the blistering heat with shovels, rakes and hoes (tee-hee, we had 'hos working out in the yard!) and we leveled a new spot for the pool. What with the chemicals, the telescoping net to fish leaves and bugs out, the test strips, the sump pump, the tarp to go under the pool and two straight days of courting heat exhaustion working on it, our $80 pool is now worth about $1,657,925. And some change.
But, oh, how Tank loves his pool! He LURVES it. It is his most slobbery lip-kiss-iest love of all. He squeals with joy and kick-kick-kicks his chubby legs when we head outside to play in the pool.
And unlike last year's 12-inch inflatable wading pool that lived on our back deck, we can actually get in this pool and enjoy it along with him. That makes Mama happy...and a happy Mama is a (mostly) non-homicidal Mama.
Bring on the heat!
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Well, we apparently didn't have as level a back yard as we'd thought, because once it was full, the entire soft-sided pool began listing precariously to port. Hard a-port, as the seafaring types might say. Within just an hour or so of being filled, the big pouty lip of the inflated top ring was poised to move from pouty to full-blown droop and drown our poor A/C units. It is so effin' hot here on the Gilligan that I would not think twice about throwing my body in front of the onrushing tide, if I thought it could save the air conditioning.
So, we drained the pool, which was shaping up to take for-stinkin-everrrr until my knight in shining armor brought home a submersible pump. We got to work in the blistering heat with shovels, rakes and hoes (tee-hee, we had 'hos working out in the yard!) and we leveled a new spot for the pool. What with the chemicals, the telescoping net to fish leaves and bugs out, the test strips, the sump pump, the tarp to go under the pool and two straight days of courting heat exhaustion working on it, our $80 pool is now worth about $1,657,925. And some change.
But, oh, how Tank loves his pool! He LURVES it. It is his most slobbery lip-kiss-iest love of all. He squeals with joy and kick-kick-kicks his chubby legs when we head outside to play in the pool.
And unlike last year's 12-inch inflatable wading pool that lived on our back deck, we can actually get in this pool and enjoy it along with him. That makes Mama happy...and a happy Mama is a (mostly) non-homicidal Mama.
Bring on the heat!
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Monday, June 20, 2011
Bringin' Down Your Property Values
Why, howdy there. How are things with you?
We're in the middle of a scorcher of a June day here...temps at 102 and if you'd like to experience walking outside on Gilligan's Island today, just turn your oven to 450, let it preheat and then cram yourself inside. Oh, but bring along some scalding water, cuz it's not a dry heat.
Partly because of the heat and mostly because of his rambunctiousness, Shawn and I decided to get Tank one of those 32" deep doughboy swimming pools. As I type, garden hoses are working feverishly to fill what could be the ugliest lawn ornament on earth. But you know what? I'll do that for my boy. Besides, it is too hot to go outside and play during the day and there's only so much "Swamp People" I can watch, so I'm willing to give up the air conditioning in favor of some chlorinated water.
The box said the pool would be "ready for water in 15 minutes!" Just like that...with the exclamation point and everything. Obviously, the exclamation mark is Chinese for "HA HA HA, you dumbass!" Because, seriously. Here's how it goes:
Step One: Argue with spouse over proper placement of pool. Win argument. 5 minutes.
Step Two: Rake up leaves, sticks, debris from approved pool placement area. 10 minutes.
Step Three: Open heavy duty tarp packaging and lay tarp down.
Step Three, Substep A: OCD husband franticaly races against inevitability and tries to keep dust, dirt and grass from touching top of tarp.
Step Four: Unfurl pool onto tarp. OCD husband plucks and picks at pool to ensure maximum wrinkle-free enjoyment. 5 minutes.
Step Five: Locate air pump (2 minutes), locate extension cord (1 minute), try to blow up top ring of pool. Keep trying. Air pump won't seat properly in the valve; husband tries to blow up ring. By mouth. In 102 degree heat. Husband wisely gives air pump another try. Total time: 20 minutes.
Step Six: (Occurred simultaneously with Step Five): Wife puts together filter/pump. Using directions cobbled together from English, Chinese and God-knows-what-other-language. Directions are useless; wife uses them to sit on so the ants stop biting her butt. Wife creates new and intriguing combinations of profanities. Wife now coated with petroleum jelly, as per the incomprehensible instructions to lubricate O-rings. Wife now glistens in the sun and has the appearance of a large, sweaty booger. Time: 20 minutes.
Step Seven: Begin filling pool.
Step Eight: Wait. Wait. Wait some more.
Step Nine: Put kid down for nap, promising great fun upon waking.
Step Ten: Drag another garden hose to pool. Turn on full blast. Wait. Wait some more. (Husband departs to get new grips for Wife's motorcycle handlebars)
Step Eleven: Begin scooping out debris already collecting in pool.
Step Twelve: Pool filled. Total time: three hours from box to pool.
And when Tankie wakes up, we'll have the final step: Wildly Excited Toddler.
And that's worth every drop of sweat.
We're in the middle of a scorcher of a June day here...temps at 102 and if you'd like to experience walking outside on Gilligan's Island today, just turn your oven to 450, let it preheat and then cram yourself inside. Oh, but bring along some scalding water, cuz it's not a dry heat.
Partly because of the heat and mostly because of his rambunctiousness, Shawn and I decided to get Tank one of those 32" deep doughboy swimming pools. As I type, garden hoses are working feverishly to fill what could be the ugliest lawn ornament on earth. But you know what? I'll do that for my boy. Besides, it is too hot to go outside and play during the day and there's only so much "Swamp People" I can watch, so I'm willing to give up the air conditioning in favor of some chlorinated water.
The box said the pool would be "ready for water in 15 minutes!" Just like that...with the exclamation point and everything. Obviously, the exclamation mark is Chinese for "HA HA HA, you dumbass!" Because, seriously. Here's how it goes:
Step One: Argue with spouse over proper placement of pool. Win argument. 5 minutes.
Step Two: Rake up leaves, sticks, debris from approved pool placement area. 10 minutes.
Step Three: Open heavy duty tarp packaging and lay tarp down.
Step Three, Substep A: OCD husband franticaly races against inevitability and tries to keep dust, dirt and grass from touching top of tarp.
Step Four: Unfurl pool onto tarp. OCD husband plucks and picks at pool to ensure maximum wrinkle-free enjoyment. 5 minutes.
Step Five: Locate air pump (2 minutes), locate extension cord (1 minute), try to blow up top ring of pool. Keep trying. Air pump won't seat properly in the valve; husband tries to blow up ring. By mouth. In 102 degree heat. Husband wisely gives air pump another try. Total time: 20 minutes.
Step Six: (Occurred simultaneously with Step Five): Wife puts together filter/pump. Using directions cobbled together from English, Chinese and God-knows-what-other-language. Directions are useless; wife uses them to sit on so the ants stop biting her butt. Wife creates new and intriguing combinations of profanities. Wife now coated with petroleum jelly, as per the incomprehensible instructions to lubricate O-rings. Wife now glistens in the sun and has the appearance of a large, sweaty booger. Time: 20 minutes.
Step Seven: Begin filling pool.
Step Eight: Wait. Wait. Wait some more.
Step Nine: Put kid down for nap, promising great fun upon waking.
Step Ten: Drag another garden hose to pool. Turn on full blast. Wait. Wait some more. (Husband departs to get new grips for Wife's motorcycle handlebars)
Step Eleven: Begin scooping out debris already collecting in pool.
Step Twelve: Pool filled. Total time: three hours from box to pool.
And when Tankie wakes up, we'll have the final step: Wildly Excited Toddler.
And that's worth every drop of sweat.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Happy Birthday to the Farm Maven!
Happy birthday to my sister the Farm Maven! Wish I could be there to celebrate with you.
Have a great day and I'll see you soon.
Love,
Baby Chustah
"That's where my angel wings used to be."--Farm Maven
"Really? I thought it was the scar from when I stabbed you with the ironically named safety scissors."-me
Have a great day and I'll see you soon.
Love,
Baby Chustah
"That's where my angel wings used to be."--Farm Maven
"Really? I thought it was the scar from when I stabbed you with the ironically named safety scissors."-me
Paint samples, long waits and love rekindled
The much-anticipated closing date of June 17th came and went without a closing. Without even an update from the closing agency, as a matter of fact. Frustrating!! The last update we received said that the closing agency was waiting on a water bill from Mayberry. Why on earth something like that has to hold up a closing is beyond me....can't they email or fax the dang thing in?
So, anyway, I've had to amuse myself in other ways. I went through a couple of paint sample books and picked out tentative colors for the living room, dining room and hall--those will all be the same color, for simplicity. I've also got a good idea of the colors for Tank's room, the master bedroom and the area over the tile in the hallway bath. Due to budget constraints, we'll leave the pink basket-weave tile that is on the hallway bath floor for now, so I chose a smoky light grey for those walls. Not much else will go with pink and not make me want to vomit. I am not a pink person. Well, technically, I guess I am a pink person. But you know what I mean.
Tank's room will most likely be a light blue. I am still thinking over how to "do" his room. Here on Gilligan's Island, his room is done in fish, with shades of blue and green being predominant. His room at Uncle Todd's Cabin just has the vinyl wall decals of Classic Pooh, which he is really too old for. Sigh. I guess those will have to go. I'd love to maybe do a tree in one corner of his room, either here or in Mayberry. I think it would be so cute to do that and maybe bunk beds, to feel like a tree house, almost. I'll keep thinking about it and we'll see what happens.
Because I don't have the luxury of taking paint samples to the Taj and holding them up, I have used the photos I took to see how different colors look. Because the hardwood floors have such a gold tone to them, a lot of cooler colors just didn't look right to me. I found some warmer ones that I thought worked well with the floor. The final test will be to take the paint samples to the Taj and see how everything looks together in person.
In other news, I got my Mother's Day present this week. It's late, but it was worth it. Shawn got us both Kindles, so I'm off the hook for Father's Day. Woo-hoo. I wasn't sure I'd like a Kindle, since I am a book nut and I thought I'd miss the heft and feel of a real book. To my surprise, it was really easy to adjust to reading just one page, instead of having two opened in front of me. We got covers for the Kindles, which I recommend, because it does help it feel more like a traditional book. I loaded some free classics and have plowed halfway through Anne of Green Gables so far. Is it just me, or was Anne a lot less annoying when I was a kid? I mean, holy crap. I thought it would be a hoot to re-read something from childhood, but jeez...Anne's a total nutburger. By Chapter Two, I'd had it up to HERE with her imaginative, free-spirited nature and thought she just needed a knot yanked in her. And all the talk of "bosom friends." Yark. Guess I'll stick to my gory crime novels.
Oh, and I almost forgot! Oh My Flippin Stars...there is apparently a very disturbing new genre of literature. I stumbled on it when I was checking out the free Kindle downloads in Amazon: erotica written by women for women. I was extremely intrigued by this phenomenon. I mean, I always understood the existence of romance novels...teenaged girls waiting for their ONE TRUE LOVE and down-trodden housewives trying to remember why they wanted to get married in the first place kept those things flying off the shelves. Side note: have you ever read one of those things? All the women have enormous eyes. There must be a tribe of women out there who look like Twisted Whiskers chicks. But, erotica? Really? If I wrote an "adult romance" novel, it would go something like this:
"He strode in the door, blocking the sun's light with his massive, muscular body. Graciella trembled, the dishwater dripping from her shaking hands. Who was this man? What dangerous plan brought him here? In two long strides he crossed the room and took the dishcloth roughly from her hands. 'You've got it all wrong,' he growled, 'Glasses and silverware get washed before the pots and pans.'
Graciella moved aside and with tremendous effort, found her voice. 'Wh-wh-who are you?' she gasped.
'Hungwell,' he replied. 'Studley Stacked Hungwell. I'm here to do the dishes.'"
*************************************************
Not exactly Pulitzer Prize material, huh? Oh, well. The longer this real estate closing drags on, the more time I have to work on my new career as a writer of Chick Lit Erotica.
God help us all.
So, anyway, I've had to amuse myself in other ways. I went through a couple of paint sample books and picked out tentative colors for the living room, dining room and hall--those will all be the same color, for simplicity. I've also got a good idea of the colors for Tank's room, the master bedroom and the area over the tile in the hallway bath. Due to budget constraints, we'll leave the pink basket-weave tile that is on the hallway bath floor for now, so I chose a smoky light grey for those walls. Not much else will go with pink and not make me want to vomit. I am not a pink person. Well, technically, I guess I am a pink person. But you know what I mean.
Tank's room will most likely be a light blue. I am still thinking over how to "do" his room. Here on Gilligan's Island, his room is done in fish, with shades of blue and green being predominant. His room at Uncle Todd's Cabin just has the vinyl wall decals of Classic Pooh, which he is really too old for. Sigh. I guess those will have to go. I'd love to maybe do a tree in one corner of his room, either here or in Mayberry. I think it would be so cute to do that and maybe bunk beds, to feel like a tree house, almost. I'll keep thinking about it and we'll see what happens.
Because I don't have the luxury of taking paint samples to the Taj and holding them up, I have used the photos I took to see how different colors look. Because the hardwood floors have such a gold tone to them, a lot of cooler colors just didn't look right to me. I found some warmer ones that I thought worked well with the floor. The final test will be to take the paint samples to the Taj and see how everything looks together in person.
In other news, I got my Mother's Day present this week. It's late, but it was worth it. Shawn got us both Kindles, so I'm off the hook for Father's Day. Woo-hoo. I wasn't sure I'd like a Kindle, since I am a book nut and I thought I'd miss the heft and feel of a real book. To my surprise, it was really easy to adjust to reading just one page, instead of having two opened in front of me. We got covers for the Kindles, which I recommend, because it does help it feel more like a traditional book. I loaded some free classics and have plowed halfway through Anne of Green Gables so far. Is it just me, or was Anne a lot less annoying when I was a kid? I mean, holy crap. I thought it would be a hoot to re-read something from childhood, but jeez...Anne's a total nutburger. By Chapter Two, I'd had it up to HERE with her imaginative, free-spirited nature and thought she just needed a knot yanked in her. And all the talk of "bosom friends." Yark. Guess I'll stick to my gory crime novels.
Oh, and I almost forgot! Oh My Flippin Stars...there is apparently a very disturbing new genre of literature. I stumbled on it when I was checking out the free Kindle downloads in Amazon: erotica written by women for women. I was extremely intrigued by this phenomenon. I mean, I always understood the existence of romance novels...teenaged girls waiting for their ONE TRUE LOVE and down-trodden housewives trying to remember why they wanted to get married in the first place kept those things flying off the shelves. Side note: have you ever read one of those things? All the women have enormous eyes. There must be a tribe of women out there who look like Twisted Whiskers chicks. But, erotica? Really? If I wrote an "adult romance" novel, it would go something like this:
"He strode in the door, blocking the sun's light with his massive, muscular body. Graciella trembled, the dishwater dripping from her shaking hands. Who was this man? What dangerous plan brought him here? In two long strides he crossed the room and took the dishcloth roughly from her hands. 'You've got it all wrong,' he growled, 'Glasses and silverware get washed before the pots and pans.'
Graciella moved aside and with tremendous effort, found her voice. 'Wh-wh-who are you?' she gasped.
'Hungwell,' he replied. 'Studley Stacked Hungwell. I'm here to do the dishes.'"
*************************************************
Not exactly Pulitzer Prize material, huh? Oh, well. The longer this real estate closing drags on, the more time I have to work on my new career as a writer of Chick Lit Erotica.
God help us all.
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