Uhh . . . Marsh Madness.

We both knew coming into this whole thing how stressful it would be. All the waiting and wondering is enough to drive you completely mad. (I’m not one for waiting . . . on anything.)

I honestly thought the hard part was over . . . you know, when we signed the contract on our house . . .

. . . but it seems somebody failed to mention I’d be up half the night worrying about a certain house we found . . . in one of the most precious neighborhoods I’ve ever entered . . . where people stop in their tracks and smile rather largely and wave at you going by . . . and where quite possibly the milk man leaves a small crate of milks on your front door step . . . (okay, so maybe that’s taking it a bit too far . . .)

But still, NOBODY TOLD ME I might be faced with the possibility of loosing such a place. . .

NOBODY TOLD ME that God would sure enough scream in my ear, “THIS IS YOUR HOUSE!” . . . but they might not accept our offer.

Although . . . I guess nobody told me they would accept the offer either . . . and that we would, in fact, get the house . . .

Hmmmm . . . funny how that works.

Boxes anyone?

More Marsh Residence Updates

I was most excited to go on our first house hunting trip (outside of the internet) on Sunday!

Out of the five homes we saw, one remains on our list. It seems that just when you think you’ve found the one, there’s, of course, something that messes it up!

I finally came to the conclusion that no one was looking out for us when they built their house.

The good news is that we’ve still got one in the back of our mind, and we’ll hopefully be going again this weekend to scout out more potential homes. However, last night I studied the calendar and realized we have six weeks until we have to be out of this house!

I look at that and go in panic mode. Grady looks at that and shrugs his shoulders.

Apparently boys aren’t born with the “worry gene.”

I, on the other hand, was born with too much of it . . . eesshh . . .