Well, sad news everyone. We are not moving in to the house across the street from my parents. The lady who sort of lives there decided that she is not ready to move all of her stuff out of the house. Boo hoo. We were really set on that working out, so we are pretty bummed.
However, we do have to tell you what an amazing relic the house was. It was like a time machine transported us back to the 1970s. The house was perfectly maintained as a true period piece--the carpet is Winnie-the-Pooh gold, as my mom describes it. The linoleum is orange and yellow and brown and loud. The light fixtures are hmmm, how shall I describe them...unique. The microwave is the largest one that ever walked this earth, and it actually has the controls for the stove/oven on it. The furniture is floral, striped, and/or velvety. Well-distributed throughout the house are small reminders of the 1970s--a dark colored glass collection, a brass statue of a cat, and my personal favorite- a green shag wall hanging of a mushroom, flower, and butterfly. Unfortunately one of the deal breakers was that she wanted the house to remain fully furnished when we moved in... thanks, but no thanks. Charlotte would certainly have some sort of identity crisis or at least a terrible sense of fashion for the rest of her life.
So now we begin the frantic search for housing in the area. It had seemed that everything was going to work out with this house, so we hadn't looked at anything else. Too bad our Everybody Loves Raymond scenario isn't going to come true.
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