Our second offer on the house that we want has been accepted three weeks after an initial, indignant refusal. This afternoon we're going to re-sign and submit the paperwork and get the ball rolling. It's a bit uncomfortable knowing that the owners are grouchy about the sale, but whatever, it's a recession! We're going to be soooooo broke, but baby Sonja needs a nursery, a back yard, and a neighborhood. It feels like an incredibly huge responsibility to choose our child's environment for the duration of her youth. What if there are no nice kids on the block? What if a psycho lives next door? What if there is some unforseen danger inherent to this specific house? What if Ballston Spa turns out to be more WT than quaint, as I'm beginning to suspect? We're just going to have to close our eyes and jump. The music has stopped and this is the empty chair. I'm out of metaphors.
Ever since we moved from Albany to Round Lake I've been amazed by the progression of wildflowers and foliage along the roads and in the fields up here. My favorite thing is the diaphanous purple grass that shows up in mid-August. I want to take a picture of Sonja in front of it before it's gone because her fuzzy blonde hair is so remarkably similar to it's texture! When I do, maybe my techology liason (husband) can show me how to upload a photo onto this thing
Mökki Santara House / Carla Gertz
6 hours ago