About the house thing. We made an offer on house #2. To help jog your memory, it’s this one:

This is the house that while I was walking around looking at it, I felt a lump in my throat and I almost started to cry. It’s perfect. It feels like home to me. And unlike every other house we’d seen up to that point, I couldn’t find a single thing that I didn’t like about this house.

Plus, there’s the kitchen. Oh man, let me tell y’all about the kitchen. This kitchen basically sold the house, as far as I’m concerned.

The photo is a little blurry and doesn’t really do it justice, but that kitchen is amazing. It’s freaking enormous. I can imagine us having huge dinner parties with our friends in this house. It’s so beautiful and open and inviting. I opened the (double!) doors to the pantry, and Dave said the look on my face was as though I was suddenly bathed in a warm soft light while a chorus of angels started to sing. It’s fantastic. I want to make sweet love to that kitchen. (And no, I don’t know how the mechanics of that would work. Shut up. Don’t crush my dream.)

And look! It even has a little built-in workstation.

Cute toddler (who apparently has a mouthful of animal crackers) sold separately. Weird shadow brought to you courtesy of Cindy’s Crap Photography Skills. Get your thumb away from the lens, moron. Jeez.

There’s also the backyard, which is perfect for us: it’s flat, it’s shady, and it’s big enough for a playset. And besides the deck, it’s also got a really nice little patio area underneath a cluster of trees in the yard.

Love it. It’s just so pretty.

So we made a pretty low-ball offer, and they gave us a fair counter-offer (they met us more than halfway). We agreed, signed the paperwork, and we’re now officially under contract.

The sad part is that the house is being sold because of a divorce. The first time we saw the house, it was obvious that there was only one guy living there, so we wondered if maybe he was gay. (For the stereotypical reasons: the place was immaculately decorated and absolutely spotless.) But then our realtor noticed some wedding china in the dining room, and when Dave opened a cabinet, he saw several “how to save your marriage” self-help books. Sure enough, when our realtor talked to the other agent, the house belongs to a (currently, but not for much longer) married couple. So it’s sad, but it doesn’t appear that they have any kids, which I guess makes it slightly less tragic. And they’re obviously working together on selling the house, because they got back to us REALLY fast when we made our offer.

My sister suggested that I need to burn some sage in the house when we move in, to get rid of all of the bad karma floating around in there due to the divorce. I have no idea how to burn sage or what you’re supposed to do to get rid of bad marriage juju in a house, but I’ll look into it. Isn’t there some religion where they’ll bless your home? I can’t remember if that’s a Catholic thing or if it’s Hindu. (Because, you know, the two religions are so very similar, it makes total sense that I’d get their customs confused. Er?)

I am completely scared, and I’m not exactly sure why. Maybe it’s because we’re voluntarily putting ourselves in debt – even though we got a really good deal on the house because of the economy. Maybe it’s because this is the first time I’ve ever been involved in a house-purchasing decision. (Dave already owned our house in Washington when he and I first met.) I think it’s also because this house is so beautiful, and so perfect, and I’m afraid this is all too good to be true, so I’m waiting for something to come along and blow up in our faces. But I really, really hope I’m wrong about that last one.

Stay tuned for my next series of posts, tentatively titled “OMFG are you kidding me I have to pack again, why didn’t we just leave our crap in boxes for the past year?!?!!”

(To be fair, quite a bit of our crap is, in fact, still in boxes. Laziness and procrastination FTW!)