The Waiting Game

It's Saturday morning and I didn't hear from the realtor last night. I'm not a patient person but this is out of my hands. Talked to advisors, sent emails, asked people for prayers. Still nothing. I'm cool, though. I wasn't a Girl Scout for nothing. Back to web sites looking for listings of interest, just in case.

More mayhem in Memphis. Home invasions, more shootings. There is a little group of people, non-Washingtonians, who have moved into the Shaw neighborhood and are determined to make it into their own image. For Washingtonians, you know the area: 6th and P, Marion Street, the section between Rhode Island Ave. and L Street. Just had to be within walking distance of the new Convention Center and able to walk downtown. They are alarmed at the high incidence of crime in their area. Well, come on now, you are in the city, stupid. Rule No. 1: You cannot sit in your house with the doors unlocked. They give MPD the natural born blues. Every shot, sign of yellow tape, police car in the vicinity and they are on the message boards demanding information and upset when the police don't respond immediately. They want to know the names of the assailants. Why? Will they become friends? All that to say they need to move down here and get a real taste of crime. From the halls of government to the streets. Operation Rock Star took out drug dealers (low level to be sure) in the city and suburbs. Operation Tarnished Blue is nabbing crooked cops. Several legislators were busted in Operation Tennessee Waltz, a sting that netted John Ford, a member of the Ford dynasty. DC doesn't come close.

A beautiful day. Still checking and rechecking figures. Wrote the offer contingent upon a satisfactory house inspection. Friend says he'll fly in for it. I am thankful. It pays to have another eye in the process.

Emails flying back and forth. I'm enlisting everyone's prayers except the pope's. If I had access to it, I would have asked him too.

Did I mention this is a non-smoking unit? I'm doing the right thing. Go out on the patio faithfully to smoke. Really cuts down the consumption. But, there are killer mosquitoes out there. I swear they lie in wait for me. I come back in full of bites. Enough. I know I have repellent in my overnight bag. Not. No problem, there is some in my golf bag. Should be two kinds. Not. One can is missing; the other is empty.

Still no word. Now, I'm playing bid whist on the computer. I'm slapping Tavis Smiley silly for his dumb move; cost me my bid. AAARGH. blackamericaweb.com games. I alternate with jigsaw puzzles on the computer: jigzone

Enough. I give in and call the realtor. No word for me. Somewhere in the conversation, a gentle hint is made as to a possible acceptable offer. Fine, I can do that. What's another thousand or two? I've already cut the funds short.

Phone rings back later on and I receive the good news! I have bought me a new house! Hallelujah! God is worthy to be praised. Tears in the eyes; choked up throat. Now to let everyone know that I should be going to settlement with a week. Day after Mother's Day. I'm so excited, I can't stand it. Here's my house:

I spend the rest of the evening planning and remodeling in my head. Have to head back to Ripley on Monday to redo the contract so it can be mailed to the owner. You betcha. I'll be there with bells on my toes.