This weekend was a big one.
Friday night after work, Dave and I met up with our agent and officially started our house search. By Saturday morning, we had made an offer on a three-bedroom with a view of Mt. Shasta. The following photos were taken during the few moments this weekend I didn’t spend breathing into a paper bag:
When we finished our tour of homes Friday night, we grabbed some asada tacos. Mostly because I knew I’d need several beers to process the fact that WE MIGHT BE BUYING A HOUSE, and nothing goes better with beer (and crippling anxiety) than Mexican food.
Dave’s sister Lissa makes THE BEST strawberry rhubarb pie, and she was nice enough to drop some off at our house Saturday morning. It is so good that I wanted to eat it for breakfast. Pie for breakfast is always a good decision.
It was in the 80s here all weekend, so I soaked up some rays in the backyard (while wearing SPF 50, natch). My skin is now a slightly darker shade of pale.
Dave had a cigar lying around that he wanted to try, so we headed out to the front porch on Saturday night to smoke it. However, he accidentally punctured it when he was taking it out of the package, so we had to plug the hole with our fingers or it would go out. Mostly I just held it and laughed.
The rest of my weekend was spent obsessively checking and re-checking my budget, refreshing my email to see if our offer was accepted, and trying to figure out what the hell “escrow” is.