It's been pouring rain since last night. Bang and I woke up around 6 a.m. surprised to find it hadn't let up all night.
Looking out the front door, there's a river flooding the street in front of the house, and the rain gutters are too clogged to hold all the water that's flowing off the roof.

This is a serious mess, how are supposed to move in this?

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Aside from a little break to pacify family, we haven't taken any time off from prepping the house for our inevitable move-in. The first week was the floors, and this week is the moving.
We had some great fiasco's with the first week with electrical problems and stuff, but we're back on schedule, and ready to haul 7 years worth of crap into our new house.

So far we've come to the conclusion that we need a bigger kitchen, more on that later.

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Found this great website that displays Aurora Borealis- Found this one that flashed on my Birthday last year.

Now tell me I'm not Special . . .

Who needs a 4 anyway?
Got a call form Jean the Sellers realtor today, telling me that Mr. C is moving out a day early, so the vermin-gassing tent will be going up and coming down a day early so we suddenly went from 5 days till closing to 3, effectively screwing up my schedule and completely annihilating the number four from our days-letf-till escrow -closes countdown.

Thanks Jean, thanks a lot!

No, really- I mean it. This is proving to be the longest week in my life. All I want to do is move in and start wallowing in that "American Dream" feeling all my friends have told me about, it's only Monday and it feels like it's going on forever.

I guess I never realized what it might feel like to own a peice of property, or a building. I've gotten used to thought that someone else will be benefitting from the improvements I'm making on the house I live in. For the first time in my life, I can sit up on the roof for as long as I want without the fear that someone is going to yell at me to "Get The Hell Down from There Before You Break Your Cotton-Pickin' Neck!!"- Except for Bang anyway.


I suddenly want my Dad to come visit, so I can get pissed off at something small he does, and threaten to throw him out on his ass.
"Close that Friggin' 'Frigerator door God Damnit!" That would be great!

On Friday that all ends, and I can't get it here quickly enough, so thanks Jean. Thanks for putting some fire in the butt of Mr. C and effectively tossing out that swollen, un-needed number 4.- Pass directly to Three- THREE DAYS TILL ESCROW CLOSES!!

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The afternoon hours seemed longer than ever, we had the windows to the yard open and the sound of the spout in the pond in the yard came trickling in, as did a light breeze, and the golden light of the setting sun. It streaked in the house at perfect sideways angles, illuminating every room like a Lemon Pledge commercial. You just can't pay for this level of beauty.

I'm sure it's the houses way of offering us one more summmer night before we leave.

6 days till Escrow closes and counting.

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. . . Eights Gays a Frettin', Seven Sexy Sailors, Six Geeks a-typing . .

The 12 days of Escrow are winding down, we're at day 8, and today I get the final walk through to make sure the house looks the same as it did when it was offered.

I'd rather have this inspection after Mr. Coleman has moved out, that way I know he's not taking the appliances, sconses and glass door knobs with him, but none the less, I'll get another look around, and take some pictures that I didn 't get to take before- Like the bathroom details and the kitchen.
Maybe he'll show me how the sprinklers system works, and where the furnace is.

The house here has been piled high wth boxes for a week, we've run out of both boxes, and places to put them. I think we have too much time on our hands to worry about not having enough time. According to our schedule, we have 6 days with the house before Christmas (To probably redo th hardwood floors) and then a full 6 days again to move in after Christmas. No one is moving in to Silver Ridge right after us, so if we don't get everything by New Years Day, it's o.k., no one will care.

This whole thing has been suspiciously easy . . .

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How Much for the Three-Handled Gredunza?

It's day of our Silver Ridge Yard sale, based on the brief conversation Bang and I had that began and ended with 'We're not keeping this thing, are we?"

Hauling junk to "Out-of-the-Closet" thrift stores, or selling it to strangers off the front porch both seemed like a party to us, but one might land us some cash, while the other might turn us away- so now were pandering to the idea that "One Man's Junk, is another man's Junk in The Future!- and we're unloading it.

Come by and check it out, for tomorrow you'll see it all stacked hap-hazardly on the shelves at goodwill, and Salvation Army.

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Where Angels Fear to Tread

Johnny Burke and his lover Scott asked me to help them create a website to atttract a Birth Mother. They want to adopt a child (Seems Johnny's Barren- who knew?).

The first order of bizness was to get images of them looking all family and shit- so I made a call to the OTT house to set up a photoshoot with the three screaming evil monsters from hell (aka Josh's Boys).

Johnny and Scott came over, pulled their shirt sleeves and pants over their plastic body armor, and poo-pooed my recomendation for protective eyewear. They wanted this photo-shoot to look "natural"

Looking back on it I think we should have made an appointment for later in the week to provide the time needed for the riddelin to take effect, but we had a Devil-may-care attitude that day, and took our lives into our own hands. We crossed the street, signed the release forms, and then Josh opened the cages.

Now, this is where a lot of people get me wrong, they think I hate these kids. This is, in fact, way wrong. I love these boys to death, but if I am expected to forgive their monstrous behavior because, after all they are "Just Kids", then I reserve the right to bitch to high heaven about my disrupted life. (Notice I did not call them dysfunctional!)

I don't do a lot to correct people when they see me as the cranky old man who lives across the street because I really get into the thought that I am largely misunderstood, so for now, I'll wear that hat proudly.

Let's just say I shot 6 rolls of film while Johnny and Scott fended off attacks and crude attemts to bring them to their knees, all the while smiling at the camera trying to make it look like "play".

The event ended when they took Scott Hostage and tried to manually remove one of Johnny Burkes eyes without anesthesia or antiseptic. I brought in Rusty as a distraction and we barely escaped with our fingers unbroken. We bolted from the yard carrying Johnny, and limped home while three toddlers snarled and clawed at us through the gates.

This whole thing toook about 27 minutes.

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