Perhaps Jason Isringhausen just doesn’t like the rain?

Because, honestly, I couldn’t blame him if that was the case.  If I have to look out at the sea of mud that is my “yard” for another weak I am going to SCREAM.

The joy of new construction home ownership is that so much is left up to the weather.  Due to the cold and snow of this winter, we were set back 3 weeks on our closing.  Now, due to Missouri’s lovely penchant for rain, a month into homeownership and I still don’t have sod.  We were told we would need a week of no rain for them to even begin to think about it.

It feels like I only have half a home–because going outside means sidewalk/driveway and nothing more.  Thank God we don’t have dogs or kids running around, because I would seriously go nuts

And holy shit, Jim Edmonds is a Cub.


We have been in the house for over a week now.  It already feels like home.  I’ve moved so much in the past 8 years, that my adaptability is fairly quick.  Still, there are some fairly big changes from living in a dorm/apartment to live in a house.

1. When I hear a noise–it is not going to be the upstairs neighbor stomping, yelling, or moving their shit.

2. Not only is there an upstairs, but it is also mine.  (I go for days without going upstairs because our master bedroom is on the main floor.

3.  There is also a lower floor/basement.  It is mine as well.  (I think I’ve been down their twice).

4. Despite having all white walls (for now), I have curtains (not apartment blinds) that liven up a room.

5. Water and ice come out of my fridge door.

6. My cell phone gets service INSIDE!

7. I have to check 3 doors and a few windows before I can go to bed.

Some things that remain the same (for now)

1. Still no garage for my car–all of our crap is taking up my half.

2. Still no yard–they haven’t laid our sod yet.

3. Still have to walk to get our mail–the mail people won’t deliver mail to our mailboxes until the neighborhood is 75% full or something.

My Mom always told me to marry someone handy.  My Dad is not and so my Mom does much of the home-improvement type stuff.  Still, my Dad will attempt home improvement and knows the different tools.  He’s mildly handy, my Mom is moderately handy–and I think I lean more towards mild than moderate myself.

And then there’s R.  He’s not even REMOTELY handy, so I failed on taking my mother’s advice.  And now I have to step up and become the handy one.  I started my first handy project this weekend: hanging curtains.  I was a little afraid of taking on this task because one mistake equals uneven curtains and holes in the walls.

Nevertheless, I did it–and the end result was pretty successful.


Bathroom (I loooove these curtains).

Messy Dining Room.  The curtain rod was too big, so I had to take off the ends.  I’ll need to figure something else out in terms of rod before I hang up the smaller curtains.

Just call me Bob Villa!

*Get married and move into a house in the same week

*Have 3 chapters of your thesis due two weeks later

*Put off the thesis that is due two weeks after moving/wedding.

*Assign a 10 page paper to be due on your birthday, one week after your wedding/moving/etc and have to have 75 of them graded within 2 weeks.

*Let your significant other shop at Walmart

*Go to Home Depot for a fridge (curbside delivery, wha?)

*Forget your $100 gift card at home when you purchase your fridge

*Wait until you get the keys of your house to call for TV/Internet hookup.

*Shop for fruits/veggies at Shnucks on a Sunday night.

Here is a general warning to the entire public. I mean this with every fiber of my being, and should I ever calm down enough, I will explain the whole sordid story. But please, please, believe me when I say:


After 3 million hours of trips to the bank, phone calls to the 18 million people unable to answer our questions, being jerked around and waiting for people to “call us back” we finally have the keys to our house–a day late. Please note, that none of the issues with our mortgage were related to our finances. NONE. This was all issues on Bank of America’s end that no one of the MILLION people we talked to would take credit for. R. is ready to have a heart attack. It has not been a fun, relaxing honeymoon period by any means. Bank of America is a disorganized mess of incompetent, irresponsible people. Please, please, do not bank with them. Someday, they will screw you over too.

In the mean time, posting may be light. We’ll be moving starting tomorrow–which means tonight will be non-stop cleaning and packing. Thank the Good Lord. Now I just hope my new husband makes it through the day without having a giant stroke or massive coronary. Woo.

April has always been a special month for me.  Growing up around people who gardened and loved flowers, I have always felt that anticipation for the cool, wet month of April when things start to grow.  My perfect day would be April, in the woods, wet ground slipping beneath my feet exploring the early wildflowers–Spring Beauties, Dutchman’s Britches, Violets.

April also, at times, meant spring break or Easter. It’s always meant my birthday, which was always made even more special by the fact that my Grandmother’s birthday was the day before mine.  This usually meant a trip to Iowa and a walk with Grandma through the slippery woods in search of those wildflowers to pick and put in small jars that would soon litter Grandma’s fireplace mantle and window sills.

The past few April’s lost their glitter with the illness and eventual passing of my Grandma, but I feel like it’s back this April.  It seems only appropriate that two of the biggest events in my life are going to take place this April–the month that has always had a special place in my heart.

I’m getting married in less than two weeks, surrounded by woods.  I don’t know what the weather will be like, but the way it’s going the ground will be slick.  I just hope the sun comes out long enough to encourage some of those early rising wildflowers.

Three days after that, we’ll close on the house and begin the moving in process.  A moving in that will (God-willing) stick more than the 13 month record I currently hold for staying in one place since I turned 18.

I’m ready for those roots to stretch and grow.  I’m ready for the beginning of a new road and a blossoming of family.  And, even though that means adulthood and all it’s messiness, this April is giving me the boldness to think I can do it.

This weekend was a bit of a roller coaster.  The biggest dip was finding out our house is not going to be done until the middle of April…. even though the sales lady assured us it would be March–which is when our lease ends!

She was all, “They won’t tell you this, but it’ll be done by March.  They can’t put that on the paper–they’ll have to put March/April to be safe, but they’re always done in 90 days.  Really, REALLY, they will be done by March.”  Over and over.  There would be No! Problem! Being! Done! In! March!  (She talks with a lot of exclamation).  “We will get you in by March!” She giggled maniacally.

Unhappy with the progress of the house in the past few weeks, R. and I finally sucked it up and went in to talk to her.  And she went on and on about “how fast” our house has gone up.  “Can you believe how fast it’s going?” she demanded.

R. and I kind of looked at each other because, um, they’ve been working on shingling the roof for about 3 weeks-and while I realize weather really slowed them down–they had NO trouble roofing the ranch down the street that started 3-4 weeks after our house did.  To me–that’s not really FAST.

“I guess the weather has been a hold up,” she finally agreed really reluctantly.  Then she told us our scheduled closing dates.

16. Days. After. We. Were. Supposed. To

3. Days. After. Our. Wedding

3. More. Days. Off. Despite. Not. Having. Subs

Living. With. Parents. For. 2+. weeks. without. R. including. after. we’re. married.

I’ll admit it, I lost my shit last night–if you can’t tell by all those misplaced periods.  There was some throwing of things and some yelling.

Luckily, R. is very wonderful and went and got our lease extended another month today and it will only cost about 200$ more than our usual rent.  I have recollected some of my shit.

But, I have learned a valuable adult lesson: Don’t trust sales ladies.

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