To quote Travis Tritt, "It's a great day to be alive." The sun is bright and it is hot already. Need to save some of this heat for the winter months. Wouldn't that be nice? Not only is the sun shining but disbursement has been made and I can pay a few people, though not willingly. Have to locate the post office. Not far, no problem.
What's this? An email from the realtor stating that the buyers requested a $500 escrow for damage to the wall? $500 for a $50 repair? Are you kidding me? Good grief, after getting $15,000 in closing, a washer/dryer and refrigerator for free, they are demanding this too? Where is the justice? Of course, it is a done deal. I wasn't there for their end of the close; the realtor didn't consult me as I wheeled down the road, so here I am, being screwed again. That news took a little of the shine off the day but I'm moving on.
Moved the last of the greenhouse into their temporary digs. BIG drink of water for all of them. They survived fairly well. Guess they have the same opinion as Abby--she has lost her mind.
No news from any of the Memphis realtors I had contacted. Back to the magazines and web sites. Listening to the news. Good grief, The head of the light, gas, and water company has been asked to resign? And another top honcho? John Ford is on trial? Kid stabbed repeatedly on the school bus? Why is every major crime they are reporting on in the areas I can afford to live in? Seriously. Every home that I've picked to look at lies near or on these streets. There's a problem here. A safety problem. Ripley is starting to look mighty good.
Sharing photos of the new "ponderosa" and discussing its condition with friend, James; brother, James; and friend, Gladys. Calculating like mad. Take a break, girlfriend. You need to find the post office. Off we go, Abby and me. Looking for Macon, take the turn, no post office. Nice neighborhood, well-maintained. Find a place to make a uie, I'm getting good at these, and go backto the shopping center and ask for directions.
Oooh, a sistah! She can give me directions and also tell me where to find a black hairdresser. 'Cause you know I don't know where one is and I need one, bad. Haircut and perm, in that order. I can do the perm but really feel like a treat is in order. Well, glory be! Her sister owns a beauty salon. Where? Whitehaven. And just where might Whitehaven be? Directions to the shop are too complicated for me. I have a general idea where Whitehaven is (another of those areas where I can afford to live), not far from Elvis Presley's Graceland estate. I don't tell her but I am not about to drive 17+ miles to a hairdresser. With the price of gas? Not!
Seems like I should have turned left on Macon and not right. Post office crowded to the max! What is going on here? So why were you in line, you ask? Envelopes. I had stamps. I also have boxes of envelopes in storage. Why buy another box of envelopes when you can purchase prestamped ones in the quantity you need? The line is too long for me. I'll come back later.
Pull into Walgreen's to get printer ink. Did you know that Walgreen's refills your empty cartridges? No, you didn't. There are no Walgreens in D.C. $10 for black; $15 for color. What a deal. If I had known that I would have brought the empty cartridges. Put it on the list to bring them back.
Stopped at the leasing office with a very basic question. Where are the trash dumpsters? I can't find them anywhere. I was given a map with their locations. Only two? As big as this place is? By the way, what do the units rent for? Three bedrooms w/fireplace for under $900? Are you kidding me? A decent 1 bedroom, in DC, is more than that. Get out! Then the wheels started turning: I'm paying more than that to the company that provided the apartment. So they are subleasing and making big bucks. Why didn't I think of that? Called back to ask the young lady (Black) for the name of a hairdresser in the area. Well, I can't get past the young twerp who was determined to handle my inquiry. I kept trying to tell her that I need to talk to Tonya, that she (the twerp) couldn't help. Well, why not? If you have the name of a good Black hairdresser, perhaps you can. That took care of that. In all fairness, she was trying to do her job but sometimes you just have to give the phone to the person the call was directed to.
Back to researching. Still no response from the Memphis realtors. With all the houses on the market down here, you'd think they would be tracking me down. Not. Still listening to the news. Getting a little concerned about the crime; Ripley's looking better and better.
Memphis in May kicked off this week with a three-day music festival at Tom Lee Park. Oh, goody, something to do. Night only? Not by myself when I don't know where I'm going. A history lesson here: Tom Lee was an African-American living in Memphis who became a hero when he saved 32 people from a sinking steamboat in 1925. Even though he could not swim, he rowed a small boat into the strong currents of the Mississippi River to rescure the victims. The park, which stretches for a mile and half along the banks of the river, is dedicated to this hero and contains a monument to him. This is the site of several events throughout the year, including the Barbecue Contest, the Sunset Symphony concert at the end of May, and a Jazz Festival.
Okay, I don't remember which incident decided it but it became crystal clear that I truly wanted to live a little longer, in relative safety. City girl is not a complete fool and she is a little too old for ducking bullets. My mind's made up. Going to make an offer on the house in Ripley. Trading big city convenience for small town safety. Keyed my advisors into my decision and called the realtor. Not making a full price offer, no way! It has some work to be done and because they are asking more than I had intended to pay, it will cut into my already short finances. Let's see what they say.