Holy Haystacks, We Bought The Farm!

We closed today! It really happened. Thirty minutes before the closing appointment, I checked in with Tom Builder to verify that we were not going to close today. I was going to lay Faith down for a nap. He looked at me and said, "I'd keep her up. We're closing." Oh good heavens!

Tom Builder and I went in the office prepared to walk away. Certain stipulations had not been taken care of as previously signed and agreed upon. At one point, I thought we were going to leave the table over twenty stinkin' dollars. My heart was pounding, listening to my husband and the other man get heated over how much money should go in escrow over a broken hot tub and jetted lap pool. The man even had an open consultation with his ex-wife suggesting that maybe they should go with the higher offers. Higher offers??? (Note the plurality.) And over twenty dollars in interest. If there were higher offers, everybody knew we wouldn't have been there in the first place. I stared hard at my hands willing the twitching muscles around my mouth not to betray my amusement and my pride in Tom Builder at my side.

Tom Builder had discovered another problem this morning upon inspection of the house. The washer, dryer and fridge had been removed from the old house. Three brand new appliances that the ex-wife had verbally agreed would stay. I was very proud of The Incredible Tom Builder. He stood firm and resolute on his escrow offer and the appliances (which he is now retrieving from storage with the owner). Mr. Incredible was logical, concise, and unwavering. The only thing the man could do was say, "Ok. But then you're not getting the tractor." As mentioned before, the tractor was very old and crippled without a steering wheel, needing repairs every year before it would start. Not much of a loss considering that one of our stipulations stated the tractor would either be fixed or removed. And it was no longer on the property.

The emotions I have at this very moment are remotely familiar to the day after our wedding. I know with my mind that it has happened. I know that on paper, the farm is now ours. Our future dreams are waiting for us there. But it will take three days for my heart to relax from the build up. To accept that this place is our new home, and the dream is not going to be pulled out of our hearts at the last minute.

This is the part in the story where there is a blank page. A marker of silence. The beginning of a new set of chapters. A new season. The page turns, and the chapter of the second act begins...

"In the warm spring of 2007, when new green glistened at the tips of every winter worn branch, our family moved from the only home we'd ever known to twelve wide open acres of pasture land..."