Sunday, October 19, 2014

Happy Belated Gotcha Day, Possum!

I need to add the cats' "Gotcha Days" to my iPhone calendar. With five, it's hard to keep track.

Possum, showing off a much flatter, less impressive belly back in the day.

Possum's Gotcha Day was Friday. No wonder he has spent these past two mornings purring loudly from across the room, curled up next to my husband in the leather armchair, demanding petting from him while shooting me dirty looks. No wonder he hasn't been waking me up at dawn for little chats.

Poor, neglected Possum. I do remind him constantly that he is the biggest and therefore the best of all the cats. The Top Cat. The Boss. The Wise Old Bird, as my husband calls him.

More attention must be paid. I guess I'll have to break down and order a cake.

I have no good excuses for forgetting. I don't have any writing or editing projects these days although I gather that's about to change. But I spend many hours every day house-hunting. Weekends are spent running around Boston, Brookline, Cambridge, Arlington, Newton, and Somerville to visit open houses, to make sure we haven't missed any promising prospects during the week.

We actually found a winner yesterday: a small two-bedroom on Beacon Street, with parking. It had no outdoor space and I suspected it would be too small for our books and furniture, so we didn't race to it when it came on the market three days earlier. It turned out to be much nicer than it looked, and had several long walls to hold the 300 linear feet of shelf space we need. We liked the bedrooms, bathrooms, and galley kitchen, separate from the living room, which matters hugely to me. We liked what we heard about the neighbors, the condition of the building, and its management. We got out our measuring tape, realized our big furniture would fit, and got pretty excited. And then we found out it was under agreement, although the agent was hoping for a back-up offer.

So we blew it again. At least we know that the offer isn't all-cash, so there is a teeny-tiny chance the deal could fall through. Fingers crossed. Or maybe this is the House-hunting Fairy's way to telling us to hold out for a little alley garden or a deck. I'm just getting really tired and depressed about all this.

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