The Love, Blood, and Rhetoric School

We have a mortgage.

More accurately, I got us a mortgage approved.

I would not relive these past three days for anything. The whole process seems designed to keep the customer completely confused and depending on whatever the agent says. Then they try to keep you from talking to anyone else with these dire warnings about the effects of "mortgage shopping", which is complete crap. Credit checks for mortgages don't negatively impact your credit score as long as they are all within 30 days

It's also interesting how not returning calls can magically cause your interest rate to improve. Don't answer the phones for 18 hours and miss I-cant-possibly-go-below-4.5 suddenly offers 4.25.

We should be getting the papers today, and then we are set.

So glad to be done with that shit.

Woo-hoo! Kitkat and I are leaving Thursday morning for two weeks in Pittsburgh. We'll be there for Easter with ma, and will have time so dad can meet his grandpuppy. He's been driving up to Ebensburg every week to look after Gran, so he hasn't had a chance to come down to VA Beach. I'm renting a car, so we'll definitely be going up to see her as well.

I need to check and see if raw eggs count as liquids or what have you for the purpose of flying, because I'd really like to take some pysanky for Gran and Uncle Jim. I don't think anyone in the family's made them since Grandpa died in '86, and mine from the other year turned out really nice. I'll have to laquer them, I guess. One somehow got some wax or something on it and smeared. :-(

So behind on posting pictures. Still none of the baby (who is 3 months tomorrow), and I should put up some pysanky as well. I'm really very proud of them, especially because I can't draw for shit. My artistic abilities are all firmly fabric-based. Plus these are pretty sentimental, since I made them with the kistky Grandpa made, and his old spirit lamp.

Cranky baby needs no nap, apparently...but she sure wants mama right now.

I'm not sure what it is about this particular used book store in Robinson, but I turn into some little goblin-creature whenever I'm there.  I scuttle around, clutching volumes to my chest, gibbering, squeaking, and going "mine mine mine" and, occasionally, giggling maniacally.

I am at a loss to recall any other place where I scuttle. But it gives great enjoyment to whoever has come with me, and I got some great prices on hardcovers to replace some paperbacks that are falling to shreds.


BTW - is or has someone recently started publishing past Hugo winners in hardcover?  I saw Memory and The Doomsbday Book in matching unfamiliar covers with 50th Anniversary of something or other logos on them.