Bank #3 assures us that they will give us a loan. Right now, we’re waiting for the appraisal to be ordered, and they tell us that when that comes through, we’ll be ready for launch.
Michael took me out to dinner for my birthday a few weeks ago, and he was getting all Michaely and talky and tell-me-how-you-feely. He asked me, in typical Michael-fashion, how I think I had changed since my last birthday and what I have learned.
I don’t think my answer was exactly what he expected or hoped to hear.
“I’m a lot more jaded than this time last year,” I told him. Seriously, who wouldn’t be? I’ve learned not to trust (completely) what someone says because they either a) don’t know what they’re talking about, or b) are LYING, or c) stuck in a circumstance upon which they absolutely no control.
So, yes, I’m a little jaded. And a lot skeptical. A big ol’ jaded skeptic. That’s me.
Now the bank – the third bank we’ve worked with in as many months – tells us that they can get us a loan to build our house. It’s good news. It looks promising. They seem to be confident in giving us this piece of news.
Still, I’m not overly-excited. While slightly optimistic, I’m pretty guarded about the whole thing.
In the meantime, our builder wants to get bids to tear down the shed that the previous owner left behind and clear some of the brush and undergrowth so when we get the green light, we’ll be ready to move some dirt. The shed contains ALL KINDS of (ahem) treasures, so she told us to take what we want before it is torn down.
It should be noted here that my definition of “treasure” greatly differs from my husband’s. Me: it better be either glittering or extremely useful on a daily basis. Him: oh, this looks cool, we might use it one day in the far future, my parents grew up in the Depression, we don’t throw anything away.
Oh, God has such a sense of humor when He throws two people together!
We went out to the shed and took a look around:
Michael found a small wooden box full of firewood with the word Kindlin’ and a pretty little woodland scene painted on the outside.
(That’s right, folks. Kindlin’. We Texans don’t care much for final consonants.)
He wanted to save it. (Really?!?) We could use it to collect firewood. For our gas fireplace.
I don’t even want to think about all the bugs living in that box. That is now in our garage. That is attached to our house. That we will hopefully put up for sale within the next decade.
I can’t wait to take pictures of the bulldozers.