Relative Something

There is no denying the sense of a change of season around here. The hours of daylight are noticeably shrinking. The dew point temperature has dropped, adding a fresh feeling to the decline of summer’s heat. It is my favorite time of year. It ushers in my favorite season: winter. I am obviously excited about the prospect of spending it on our new farm.

I’m dashing off to spend this beautiful Saturday morning toiling away at the day-job. I loath the overtime that requires my precious weekend hours, but that job has new significance for us right now, in that it is what qualified us for the loan to purchase the farm. I am grateful for the employment. That doesn’t mean I have to like working Saturdays, though.

Did I point out that there are a lot of maple trees on the farm? The sellers mentioned that they used to be tapped for syrup. Would we? You never know.

We ran into a couple obstructions yesterday that are keeping our starry-eyed dreaming mired in reality. Cyndie got a copy of her credit report to find out what was up with the phantom $13K charge to Chase bank that the mortgage lender listed. The day before she had exhausted all options of asking people at every possible loan department what the line item might be. Then, with report in hand, she called a second time to see if the account numbers would help them identify it. After several denials, the person on the phone came to the realization that the account number referred to a loan that had been sold to someone else, and that it happened at the same time Cyndie paid it off, in full.

They had record that it was paid in full years ago, but somehow it didn’t get cleared off the reports. They said someone would look into it and that it would eventually get taken care of. Cyndie insisted that they provide a letter immediately to confirm it was paid in full and explain their error, and then look into it and get it taken care of after that.

Then we got the results from the Radon test. The reading from the short test was over double the legal limit of 4 pCi/L. The EPA recommends that when using the short test, a reading be taken of the average of two tests. When you are in a race to close on the sale of a house, apparently one test is good enough to immediately call a more than willing contractor to come swooping in for a wad of money to throw some PVC pipe and a fan to make everything all safe and sound. Color me cynical about the whole Radon threat.

There is a threat of death by automobile crash every day, but that doesn’t keep us from driving. I guess the PVC pipe and fan is like wearing a seat belt. Once I get used to it, I’ll hardly even notice it’s there. At least I don’t have sleazy contractors eager to sell me after-market seat belts that will make me even safer in my car from the ever-present threat of a crash. Blech. Knocks me out of my dazzled visions of our new paradise in Beldenville.

Luckily, we were able to join friends Barb and Mike for a luxurious evening on their boat in Lake Minnetonka last night. The sunset put on a nice show that helped to sooth our bumps from the day.

There is an awful lot of detail that requires attention after you sign an offer on a new house. More than I can process, but it has to be dealt with, so I don’t have much choice. It seems funny that there was such a long span of time in which I was waiting, and now there is a rush to get everything done. Where’d I put my 2011 W2?

I guess I wasn’t supposed to use my credit cards while waiting to be approved for a loan. I pay the entire balance every month, so it seems to me that it provides plenty of history for how we manage our finances. It’s not like I stopped living. I charged the groceries I bought online.

We are looking into getting out of the big banks and into a credit union based near our new property. I am hoping they will provide our mortgage. We are crunching through the approval process anew, after continued frustration dealing with the first option presented to us.

I think all this rigmarole is the reason we lived where we are now for 25 years. It was easier.

Here’s hoping it is the last time we have to do this. The master bedroom is on the main floor. If we move the washer and dryer up to the same level, we could have a place that will fit our needs long into our frail and feeble years.

Last night I had all the images on our computer randomly displaying on the television screen again, and when this one appeared, I felt an overwhelming excitement for the fact that my baby love is coming home soon! Look at this and imagine how it might feel to be me this week! I bet the horses she cares for here are even excited about it, and no one has even told them yet. Cyndie’s coming home to stay!