*title shamelessly swiped from an awesome book by Janelle Brown
For those who don't follow along on Twitter, I should mention we took possession of our house today. I'm kind of shocked at how quick and easy the closing process was, especially after all the horror stories I'd heard. Although since the seven months of house hunting preceding it (and twenty years of renting) were, um, a bit rocky, maybe it was finally time?
Anyway, judging from some of the correspondence I've received lately, I'd say the million dollar question is...
Does the house come with a gun cabinet in the kitchen?
Why, yes. Yes it does.
Surprisingly the custom gun cabinet was not nearly as much of a selling point as the place we looked at in February with the cement-walled panic room. But still, we're never ones to look a gift-arsenal-storage-facility in the mouth, so there are no immediate plans to convert it to a china hutch.
Perhaps our reticence to change it is because there's been a bit of a "crime spree" in the brand new 'hood of late. And by that I mean that our realtor told us how someone called the police on her because her doggie door closed too loudly. Then our banker told us how the police showed up at his house recently asking him if a "Mister Tiger" lived there. As it turns out, Tiger is his cat and one of the neighbors complained about it peeing on their lawn, thus the police were dispatched to administer a stern warning.
I found these stories sort of ironic, when you consider the Chicago police never came when people used to pee on our lawn. Or had knife fights on it. But I guess in suburbia, folks take their lawns and their quiet seriously and I can't help but get behind that.
Anyway, I'm going to be pretty swamped for the next week so don't expect much going on here, save perhaps for some swimming pit bull videos.
So let me simply end with this - a shot of Fletch and me on the greatest day of our lives.
For those of you kind enough to read my books about our life together, thank you for making our dreams come true.
