Tuesday, March 18, 2014

The house I might/will/could purchase is now officially 'in contract' as they say around here. The house inspection and sewer inspection are on Friday and my friend general contractor Jim and I will attend.

Meanwhile I am officially freaking out. I came home with a dozen boxes and spent an hour putting books in. I have a wicked spider bite on my leg that itches like crazy and now I'm in my bathrobe quilting and watching Benedict do his Sherlock thing.

I hate moving and I haven't moved in, count 'em, 13 years. Do you know how much crap I have? Books and art and art supplies and more books and papers and notebooks filled with poems and poetry books and piles of quilting fabric and furniture and shoes. I'm exhausted just thinking about it.

Tomorrow is another day. I'll wake up bright and early and begin again to sort through, pack, throw away, give to Goodwill, save for a garage sale, etc.

It's an old house, the one I'm buying. I'm afraid there is one outlet in every room, lathe and plaster walls and wonky windows. I'm thinking to adopt Jim as my future husband to fix, rearrange, build, sculpt and otherwise make habitable my habitation. I DID say I'd take a fixer house, all I could afford on my plan to live without a mortgage, get sensible ferfucksake, so I can go to Tuscany (tra-la) and semi-retire and tend roses, which my new house has.

It also has a formidable row of arbor vitae on the south side that are about 27 feet tall and totally blocking the south light. ----sigh----- I'm going to appeal to the better natures of my new neighbors to cut them down, trim them, something or else I'll go ballistic with a hedge trimmer and get arrested. The bedroom is a cave, it's so dark. Aside from that, it has a beamed ceiling, a fireplace (!!!!!), lovely old plank floors and a view of the mountains and a huge greenbelt. And I can walk to the light rail and get to downtown or to my old neighborhood for the farmer's market.

The katz are a problem. We're gonna have to have a talk.


8 comments:

Birdie said...

oh, Beth! It is prefect. I noticed the fireplace right away. Is it wood burning or gas? Dark bedrooms are OK. I work nights and like my dark bedroom. Dark bedrooms usually mean a cool bedroom as well.

And katz. They always need to be considered.

Grab a box. Breathe.

beth coyote said...

Actually I grabbed a bag of corn chips and ate them all. I'll never lose weight for Italy at this rate.

It's wood burning, yay!

Sabine said...

It's beautiful! I'd thin out the trees blocking the sunlight eventually. But go through one complete season first.
This will be a really wonderful home and even the cats will find their corners.

Ms. Moon said...

Beth- the candle I lit for luck for you to find a house is still burning! And here you are- packing boxes.
I was just thinking this morning about moving. How hard it is but what a thrill, too! To start again with our possessions purified in a way. We see them anew and with more loving eyes in a new setting. We have gotten rid of the detritus which holds our souls down.
And I agree with Birdie- I've always loved a cave bedroom. The darker the better. Is that weird?
Roses. A fireplace. I am happy for you.

Radish King said...

It's lovely. This post made me cry.

Lisa said...

The house is adorable. Having just moved, I can tell you the purging is well worth it in the end. I look around and see only things that I like seeing and nothing that reminds me of the dark days of my life. It's so refreshing to want to be at home.

Betsy said...

Sweet!!! Let me know if you want help packing. I even have a truck. Sort of.

Betsy said...

Wait, I meant to sign that, "Your friend in Historical Jesus."
But I forgot.