At the very best, moving is a pain in the butt. As one who has moved 8,472 times I know whereof I speak. When you add in underwriter's heebie-jeebies(does anyone know the etymology of that term?) you get ulcer city. Here's the back story. Our new employer would have provided an apartment for us through an arrangement they have with a rental place in town. Apartment building doesn't allow pets. We called around-NObody allows pets. So, carbon footprint be hanged,we drove all the way back out to SD to buy a house so we could take our animals when we leave. This may seem foolish to some, like my brother for instance, but we ARE responsible for the little pests and besides, we love them. The trip went well, we saw a nice house within bicycling distance to work(trying to make up for the extra trip y'know) made an offer, got pre-approved with a bank and headed back to big M. Good news for us,the assessment came in nearly two grand less than we offered and the seller accepted the lower price. We get a closing date and make arrangements for our house in the Zoo, rent a truck,etc. Bad news for us, the underwriters won't release the dough until we get the roof(old but serviceable) replaced and the foundation checked by a licensed contractor. Good news for us, the bid on the roof came in at about half what I expected; bad news for us, they can't possibly replace the roof in two weeks. Good news for us, the banker can do an in-house mortgage until the roof is done and then switch to the fixed rate at no extra cost to us, she only needs the contractor's inspection report. Bad news for us, the contractor goes out of town for a week! This morning, with seven days until we load the truck I am calling SD folks to see if anything is shakin'. As it turns out, the contractor has already looked, said the foundation is fine and we can close on time. So if all goes as planned(HA!) we will be ready to start work on the 27th. By the goddess, this is the last move I make unless we pack a knapsack and move to the commune! Got any moving stories to share?
e-qua yona, Cherokee for 'big bear' is the only nick name I've ever had, at least one I liked. One of my favorite ever students called me that when I taught for the Eastern Band Cherokee. It is Mato Tanka in Lakota.
I have lived a nomadic life and have enjoyed most of it so far.
Seeking balance with the universe or great mystery is what life oughta be about.