As you may recall, we had put an offer on a house and had it accepted. It was like my boyfriend and I deciding to go steady.
Well, today we got engaged!
I know, I know. We actually bought the house so shouldn’t it be the wedding? I’m waiting to declare nuptuals until after we move in. Which won’t be until June.
So. Engagement.
We had a walk-through of the house and I love it even more than I did when we had the inspection. The room are generous, the ceilings are tall, the light streams in from every window no matter the time of day. I’ve been watching Grand Designs on Netflix and so I’m trying extra hard not to slip into hyperboles of sweeping vistas and the surprising cozy warmth inside an example of modern architecture.
I finally get to fantasize about decorating. About what kinds of flea market finds could look amazing right there. What kinds of floor layouts will allow the kids to gallop through the room without barking their shins. Walking through the rooms I envisioned entertaining our book club. Having the girls over for sushi and wine. Grilling with friends on the massive gas grill that we are inheriting.
I eyeballed the space available for the chandelier. “Eyeballed” because I forgot to bring a measuring tape. Of course. Mark, being taller, had a more level view and declared it 2 & 1/2 feet long. More on the chandelier will be coming in a future post.
I also got to explain some plans to Mark for a window seat in what will be H’s room, layout a wine cabinet, request several new bookcases, and figure out bed-to-room assignments. (We will have a guest room.) Ooo! And a really awesome idea that has been fermenting about a work space that can be disguised as art when company comes over.
And did I mention we have a cedar closet?? We do!!!!!
It was hard for us to leave the house and get to the signing. Well, it was hard for me. Mark had an agenda that included food before we showed up at our noon title appointment and so he sailed out of the house, pulling me along behind him. In just a bit of a similar fashion as when we walked down the aisle after saying “I do.”
We got our sandwiches at the cutest little market that is biking-distance away and headed to the title company where the most efficient and dapper man I’ve met since moving back from Switzerland greeted us and started walking us through signing about 50 different documents.
And one of the soon-to-be-previous owners was there, too! She was delightful. She and her husband are moving back to Holland for work. They were sad to be moving, but it’s to move back home so there is a bit of joy there, too. And I know exactly where she is coming from. We had a great conversation about moving overseas and kids and pets and Dutch architecture. It was lovely.
And she gave us a key.
To our house.
And before I knew it I had signed documents. One of which said that I have such aliases as Mark’s name and his mother’s name. Government at its finest, ladies and gentlemen.
Being pros at all this title stuff, they got our chatty and bewildered selves out of their building by shaking our hands, giving us a bottle of champagne they order by the crate, and pushing us to the elevator before we could wake up out of our fog of happiness.
And we were done! It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining. It was warm. We had champagne.
So we went home and drank it.
The whole bottle.
And we finished it just in time to stagger to the kids’ school and pick them up like the responsible, home-owning parents we are.
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