...Where's the "tah dah!"?

I haven’t blogged much about the process of buying a new place for a while because pretty much everything that had to be done was done a long time ago. But what was then months became weeks, and as of today, I’m a week away from the closing date. It’s funny; that still doesn’t seem as momentous as I always thought it would. What I’m finding daunting is the idea of moving. Not sure why; after all, that I’ve done before. I’ve never bought a home before, but that seems... I don’t know... just so automatic. Not that I wish it were troublesome, or a real hard slog, no... just that I always figured it would be thunderclaps and trumpets at every step, and it really wasn’t.

Yesterday was one of those moments. In getting all the ducks in a row, the real estate lawyer suggested we meet up, transfer the remaining funds, and sign the paperwork. Wednesday evening I took the bus up to a branch of my bank and squeezed out all the money I’d set aside. I got used to seeing over $20,000 in my chequing account for several months... I’m sure going to miss that impressive sight! It all got sprayed out on a single bank draft, which I handed over to the lawyer yesterday afternoon. He processed it and issued me a receipt while on the phone to some other real estate lawyer. Not much ceremony there. No fanfare, not even direct eye contact as I handed over the biggest chunk of my own money I’ve ever held in my hand in my life: $23,200. When I was a kid, that would have paid off 60% of the first home my parents bought in one fell swoop! Now it’s not even 20%, and the place I’m buying is a lot smaller. ...Anyway, I wanted it to be more than just perfunctory, but... hey, maybe when I get the keys.

So, pretty much everything is accomplished now; it’s just waiting for the bank to the pass the money through, and sometime around... now... next Friday, the lawyer puts the keys in my hand, and I enter the status of North American middle class homeowners/subclass mortgage holders. I try to make it seem like a big deal thinking this is the last weekend I’m strictly a renter; next weekend, I own a place, but it just doesn’t seem as impressive as it should. It’s just, “ah, crap, I gotta get my ass in gear and move in the next five weeks”...

* * * * *

On the current home front, after eight months, we finally have our balcony back. Larry noticed Wednesday that the railings were back up, and yesterday I happened to notice the board nailed across our door was gone at last. We moved the pent-up junk out of the way and stepped out into the spring evening sunshine for the first time in a year. It’s nice to have the option, but I noticed the railings are now glass at waist level, which means stepping out in puris naturalibus alfresco, however briefly, is no longer really an option. Oh, well. I’m moving anyway. At least we have a place to grill burgers for the next month or so... starting this evening. Waste not, want not. :)