He comes around to it

August 27th, 2010

Matt is officially excited about the new house. We chatted about the drive down our street, mulching out the one side of the driveway, sitting out on our deck, looking at the stars, digging a fire pit, hanging a hammock, having the windows open …

It’s nice to see him so giddy. I haven’t seen him like this since we got out of the limo at our reception venue and took a bunch of pictures next to a tree. He’s that happy!

I think Diesel is excited, too. He’s downstairs playing in boxes and packing paper.

An Emotional Day

August 26th, 2010

We had our home, well, and septic inspections today. Before I get to the emotional part, let’s get to the gross part. The septic tank. YUCK! Who flushes tampons? Seriously!?!?!?! The tank failed inspection so they need to pump and snake the line. Done.

Alright, so we arrived at the house and the owners were on the back deck and I come flying out the door with my hands in the air yelling, “Man, I love this house! I just freaking love it!” Then I saw the owners and said, “Oh. Don’t mind me I’ve had waaaaaay too much coffee this morning.”

My agent laughed, and the husband looked at his wife and said, “Oh, if it isn’t you 30 years ago.” Then Matt rolled his eyes and the husband nodded. Already, we are off to a good start.

The owners were very happy to meet us. We chatted about motorcycles and shelves and garden stuff and neighbors and cats when the topic turned to the pet cemetery and I asked her, “Most importantly, what do you want to do with the cemetery? If you want to take it with you, the headstones I mean, I understand, but I want you to know that if you leave it we will care for it.

“I would really like to leave it here. This was their home. I don’t want to take them or their headstones from it.”

I smiled and said, “Good, and please know that we will care for it as though the pets there were our own. We have kitties, too, and it’s nice to know they will have a safe place to rest.”

Then the wife started looking around, and she put her hands up to her mouth, broke down, and said, “I’m sorry, I have to go. I need to go see a movie. I can’t be here right now,” and, just like that, they vanished.

And my heart broke all over the place for this woman, and I wished so deeply that I could have given her a hug and cried with her! And I felt so terrible that I had gotten so overly poetic about the damn pet cemetery I brought the woman to tears.

The owners built this house, cared for, and loved it. It shows in every nook and cranny, inside and out. They raised their family in it, their grandchildren. They had weddings and countless parties and celebrations. I remember saying to my agent, “I can’t imagine ever leaving here,” and I know this woman is feeling the same thing.

She and I are kindred spirits in a way. Eclectic, fiery, colorful, well-read, and just a bit demanding. Knowing this, I said to the seller agent, “I know this is hard for them. It will be hard for me in 30 years as well. Please let them know that while they built this house for themselves, they also built it for us. We were meant to be here.”

The agent said back to me, “She said that to me, and that’s what’s hardest for this woman. Seeing herself and her husband at your age, moving into this house and making it a home for 30 years. She knows it’s right. It’s just hard to say goodbye.”

So we carried on with our inspections and as we drove away I felt wonderful and sad all at the same time. I found myself thinking that I would like to send the owners a Christmas card via their agent. Just a little something to show we care, and I would like them to know that if they ever find themselves back up north and want to stop by, I will gladly have a cup of coffee out on the deck with them.

I feel like all of the waiting, the frustration, the patience (I do have an iota, you know), and the praying is coming down to this. When I got home, I was greeted by our official good faith estimate. I held it, blinking at the P&I, thinking, “This can’t be real. I can’t believe this is happening,” and then I started crying.

I cried so hard I had to sit down in the middle of the kitchen floor because I couldn’t breathe. This is finding someone to spend the rest of your life with. This is making dreams come beyond true. This is happily ever after.

Yeah, it’s been an emotional day.

Growing up Catholic

August 25th, 2010

The strictest of all Christian faiths, and my parents were certainly the stereotypical believers. I could write a book on how growing up Catholic was painful, and how it played an enormous part in my many attempts at self-destruction but this blog is not the time nor the place for that.

As I’m growing older (and hopefully wiser), I am trying to know God. And have been doing so privately for many years. Mostly because I was afraid of what my friends would say. Me? Afraid of what someone thinks? Well, sure. We are social creatures after all. I didn’t have the fortitude to face the ridicule, the attacks, the arguments. The, “Really? You? Cindy? You believe in GOD.”

But, I’m tired of being quiet and private. I’m tired of feeling like I’m under endless fire just because I feel something inside that feels RIGHT to me. I’m tired of hiding behind other people and using them to make excuses.

When Matt and I decided to get married, I put our decision to have Christian ceremony on my parents, so that I wouldn’t have to face the possibility of ridicule. But, folks, I’m putting it out there now, officially, that it was important to me. IT WAS SO INCREDIBLY IMPORTANT TO ME.

However, I did, and still do, recognize and respect differences in faith and non-faith, so Matt and I discussed it and chose to have our Christian service in a non-denominational setting. A room just big enough to hold our guests. With lovely, abstract stained-glass windows. No icons, no alters, no relics. No mass or Eucharist. No minister in robes. Just a room full of the people we loved.

I think about the promises Matt and I made to each other on our wedding day. We made them in God’s name, and I think about how joyful we were making those promises to each other. How we exchanged our rings in prayer. How Matt chose, “Holy Ghost” over “Holy Spirit” because it was old skool, and how our minister made a little “whoooooooo” ghosty sound and I laughed, and how I didn’t feel ashamed but I felt right and full of love.

When Matt kissed me under that skylight after we were pronounced husband and wife and Green Day’s “Pop Rocks and Coke” came blasting out of the PA, I thought my heart might explode.

I think about how the words of our minister touched me when he told the story of the wedding at Cana and said the most profound thing anyone has ever said to me in regard to the bible, “Don’t save the best for last. Save it for each other,” then burst into a Johnny Cash song, which made me laugh and made me think that religion can’t be all that bad if God called this man to ministry. A man who said, “Yeah, I like the idea of rock ‘n’ roll for a wedding song. God gave us free will after all. Do it.”

Did I mention that he also danced with me and gave us poetry as a wedding present?

I felt safe and protected that day, and since our marriage, I have had a renewed, deeply personal interest in God and an immense curiosity in faith. Why? Because sometimes I think believing in something is a lot more difficult than accepting data and facts, and if you know me, you know I always have to take the hard road.

Last night, I picked up the Good Book and began to read it again for the first time and I found my literary brain kick into high gear as I thought of my favorite quote, “We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.” – T.S. Eliot

It was enough to make me close my eyes and pray. It was enough to make me nearly weep. It was enough to make Emily nudged her forehead against mine and curl up in my lap. It was enough to make me thankful for a renewed chance at life, again and again. It was enough to make me run to Matt and tell him that I love him.

No one’s spiritual quest is easy. I still have my doubts, and I don’t know that I’ll end up in church and if I do I don’t know what church it will be. All I know is that something is speaking to me and I am trying to listen.

Mornings

August 24th, 2010

I’ve grown accustomed to leisurely mornings. It’s going to be very difficult to give them up but I’ve been researching my new commute and will have two 20-minute windows in which I can either avoid school buses or get up in the mix and use the schedules to my advantage.

I’ve printed out schedules for every public school along Mountain Road and Matt and I will sit down with a map and locate the stops, coordinate timing, and se how we can avoid the stop and go chaos or possibly time our arrival at Mountain Road to our advantage when the buses slow up traffic enough that we can make our left turn without minimal issues.

There’s so much to consider and think about now that we will have 30 minute drives to work without traffic, meaning at least 45 with. I’ve figured out a plan for the evening, so I’d really like to avoid making that morning commute an hour, you know?

Anyway, speaking of mornings. It’s time to shower and get Matt up and moving. It’s weird to think that in a month I will be arriving at work around this time instead of enjoying a second cup of coffee ….

I’ve got a beautiful feeling that everything’s going my way.

August 23rd, 2010

So many good things happened today:

  • The inspection on our current home went well. A few small things to fix with a financial total around $500. More than doable!
  • We set up our home inspection for this Thursday morning, and our well and septic inspection for next Wednesday. I can hardly wait to go back and spend more time there!
  • We locked in a 30-year-fixed rate at 4.25%, no points, with Wells Fargo, who holds the mortgage for our current home and we really like them. Boo ya!
  • Shopping for a title company has been easy. We should have that figured out by the end of the week.
  • The house we are buying has been removed from all realtor websites. The place is totally ours! Alright, I have to wait 35 days but you know what I mean.
  • I came home to discover an enormous waterbed headboard dumped on the corner and found myself laughing about it. LAUGHING!!! No anger, no frustration, just laughter!!! I’m so out of this place!
  • I had a great workout tonight. I really needed that.
  • I also had a scoop of coffee ice cream. I also really needed that

Master Plan

August 22nd, 2010

This morning, Matt and I decided to sell our rear projection big screen TV. That thing is so big and heavy and bulky. It’s time to go. We also decided to sell my Spinner bike. I don’t ride it because I teach three classes a week. Again, one less thing to move.

Then we started talking about furniture, and how we are losing a room so what are we going to do with the sofa in the den. I thought, thought, thought about this because it’s a really nice sofa when it hit me, “Move it into the front room at Matt’s warehouse! It’s the perfect place to crash after a show, before an early show, while waiting for a late night return, place for me to sit and chill …”

Done. Brilliant! Our entire first floor will be empty, and this solves the argument/expense problem in regard to hiring movers.

Over the next month, we take things down there a bit at a time. Boxes, beds, tables, chairs, you name it. I tag every piece of furniture with a room ID and then Matt will take inventory and organize the truck pack. Matt is effing BRILLANT when it comes to truck packs. I seriously mean that. AMAZING.

On moving day, we move everything out the front door and right onto the lift gate. Yes, that’s right, I said lift gate because we’ll be using the official AFTERGLOW 26-foot truck to move our shit.

Four people, two hours of labor to load.
Four people, four hours to unload and set up.

I’d like to mention that two of these people have worked for professional moving companies, and also happen to be Matt’s employees and are so all about doing this.

In theory, it sounds great. I’m a bit nervous about making it all happen and will still get a quote from a moving company for at least the furniture but I’m starting to feel like we can do this!

Madness.

Something I’m looking forward to

August 22nd, 2010

The kitties finding their SPOTS because kitties have SPOTS, you know.

In this house you will find:

  • Sam in the batting of the guest room bed, under the side table in our bedroom, sitting on the floor next to the kitchen counter or on the back of the wing chair in the sun room, or sitting in the window behind the curtains in the master bedroom.
  • Emily on my pillow, under our bed, or on the third shelf of the closet, shedding on my sweaters.
  • Diesel curled up on the right side of the couch in the sun room or on the right side of the couch in the living room, on the stairwell ledge on the third floor, in the windowsill in our master bathroom, or locked in a closet because he snuck in there when I wasn’t looking.

Matt and I have been having fun thinking of the places the cats will love, and also contemplating how to get them proper access to the windows as none of the windows in this house have sills. In the new house, we think we’ll find:

  • Sam in the nook between the kitchen and den.
  • Emily in the middle of the living room floor, following the sun beam around the room.
  • Diesel on the ledge at the top of the stairs, or sitting next to one of the three glass doors at the back of the house, chirping at the birds.

Well, I made it almost a month without rage

August 21st, 2010

If I were a police officer, I would have gotten out of my car and made this driver surrender her license on the spot. Here’s what happened:

We’re cruising east on Route 50 through Annapolis, on the way to see my parents. If you aren’t familiar with Route 50, it’s a clusterfuck that moves an average of 80 mph BUMPER TO BUMBER. A thrill ride, if you will.

So, we’re zipping along in the left lane to avoid all the crazy merges and chaos and shit when two cars ahead of me a woman slams on her brakes. I mean LOCKS THEM UP. Tires smoking, screeching halt. The driver in front of me reacts. I have a decent margin of error so I react, and am freaking out that I’m going to get rear-ended by someone text messaging. I glance in the rear-view mirror and see that the person behind me is in control and pray that everyone behind him is in control as well.

We come to a complete stop and all I can think is, “What the …? Why did she stop? Faulty brakes? …” when this woman puts on her right turn signal and starts to turn her car to the right.

Oh my god, she’s trying to make a 90-degree turn across three lanes of traffic because she missed an exit. Unfucking believable. This can’t be happening. I look in my rear-view mirror and see that traffic is stopped a good half mile behind me and I can’t do anything else but

LAY. ON. THE. HORN. I mean I LAY ON IT. Matt is enraged, and starts to get out of the car. I don’t let him citing the time I got out of a car in a fit of road rage and got VERY lucky that didn’t end badly when I was beating on the hood of the other driver’s car and someone opened the back door and … Long story, and I won that battle. Anyway …

So, the woman is still sitting there, trying to cross, have I mentioned this? THREE LANES OF TRAFFIC that is doing its best to continue to move. Lady, this is not happening. MOVE YOUR FUCKING CAR!!!

Three minutes later, I am still laying on the horn. There is no hope for me to go around so I’m just honking, honking, honking, watching the other side of the highway slowing up in it’s typical rubberneck fashion, when finally she decides this is a bad idea and turns her wheel to the left.

But, oh no, she doesn’t move to the shoulder. She continues to sit partially in the lane. When we pass, I roll my window down and holler, “What the fucking fuck is wrong with you, you stupid cunt?!?!” and continue to drive.

“Cunt, that’s a classy choice of words. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say that.”

“Yeah, well, she’s the reason people get killed in car accidents. Criminy.”

You might say I wasn’t able to control my anger, and you might be right. This woman so selfishly and stupidly endangered the lives of hundreds of other drivers and broke I can’t even think of how many laws! If I and the driver behind me hadn’t been following the three-second rule, we would have gone right into the back of .. oh man, I can’t even think about it. It makes me ill.

Seriously? If you miss your exit, you go to the next one and turn the fuck around!!!

At least the rest of the drive was smooth sailing and by the time we got to my parents’ house I was feeling pretty chill. We grilled some London Broil and my mom made a peach cake with extra juice so it was all moist and delicious and we ate it out on their new patio.

Good Grief.

Saturday

August 21st, 2010

I woke up at 6:54 this morning so that I could make breakfast for Matt before he went off on a show call. It’s gross today, but at least he’s by the water. Still, I don’t envy him.

After he left, I set about packing. Everyone has said to me, “You have so much more than you think you do,” but I am finding this not to be true. I’ve been pretty good about keeping things to a minimum from day one because I knew we wouldn’t be staying here forever.

In three hours I packed:

  • Everything in the HVAC closet
  • My office save the items on my desk.
  • The dining room
  • The guest room
  • The linen closet
  • A bunch of pots and pans
  • My grandmother’s china

I stopped because I ran out of closet space and don’t want the buyer to come in for her inspection tomorrow and be like, “Holy crap, what the fuck” with boxes and packing paper strewn all over the house.

Just a quick update

August 20th, 2010

I’m about to run into meetings ALL DAY but just wanted to say …

The sellers accepted our offer. No counters. We close at the end of September on our dream. It’s a crazy, unique, beautiful, serendipitous, niche of a home. We love it. We want to spend the rest of our lives here. Home. Home so ever-sweet home. I feel it’s safe to give you all a preview now.