Adventures in house hunting

 
Wow, this weekend has been sort of a whirlwind. At the end of the work day Friday, I told my friend Margaux that we weren't going to see any houses this weekend and that we had only one measly planned activity. I was looking forward to a nice low-key weekend, and then it turned into a rather stressful and action-packed one, in a good way, though. Our realtor, Mary, knowing how aggressive the housing market is in Brighton, has been checking the listings for us multiple times a day to let us know right away if anything promising comes up. She sent us a listing Friday night that looked great, and I asked her right away to get us an appointment. She did and we were the first ones in the house to see it. It is a gorgeous old farm house (built circa 1870) that has been completely renovated (um, except for the dirt basement) and is probably the most charming house I've ever seen. It is in pristine condition, has a beautiful yard (.55 acres, which is actually large in Brighton) with the most gorgeous perennials and mature trees, it made my heart race with excitement like no other house has done, and most importantly, it's in our price range. Holy crap, I love this house. Oh, and when walking down the hallway there were some old pictures and things, and there was one that said Whitacre on it, which is my mom's maiden name. THIS HOUSE IS MEANT FOR US, (says me).
 
We made a handsome offer last night that technically expired today at 1 PM. See, this house is the bee's knees, and they had an open house scheduled today, so I guess they want to see who all would throw their hats in the ring. So now we wait. I have been a nervous wreck all day, and Pat is busy with some work stuff this weekend, so my mom - probably sensing my need for company - offered to come out today. We went out to lunch and then we actually went to the open house for THE house so she could see and, secondarily, try to dissuade the collectively smitten masses by saying things in front of people like, "There sure is a lot to weed in this yard; that's a deal-breaker," and, "A basement with a dirt floor?? Deal-breaker!" from competing with us. Greta, my mom, and I then went to the zoo to walk around and kill some time. I can't tell you how nice it was to have my mom here to distract me. It made my day.
 
Now we wait. Writing this has actually been quite therapeutic. Also therapeutic is that one of my high school classmates sent me a link to a commercial that my first best friend, Randy, is in (he's the cool iPod dude). It is impossible for me to watch this and not crack up. For those readers who graduated from Marcellus HS in mid 90s, YOU'RE WELCOME.
 
Fran