If you have a sensitive stomach, don't read this post.
If you want to read about major things in my life, keep going, but be warned: this isn't a tale with a happy ending.
Yesterday started off beautifully. I attended our old ward's sacrament meeting to witness two baby blessings. The spirit in that meeting was electrifying. I came home uplifted and rejuvenated. The family worked together to clean the house for a showing -- hoping it was our last -- and we left for church more than an hour early. The kids ate lunch in a parking lot, and then we attended our three-hour block of church meetings. I was thrilled that we weren't needed as subs in the nursery, Gavin attended his class without complaint (a first), and Lexi napped so I got to enjoy the Relief Society lesson. We closed our family fast at the end of the day feeling certain that God would provide, that the right things would happen to enable our move.
We were a little surprised not to hear anything yesterday evening from the family that had toured our house. They had come for a second showing, and their agent had told us on Thursday that an offer was probably coming. During the intervening days, we made phone calls and looked at Arizona real estate online. We decided that when we go to look for houses, we will take the kids and enough supplies to hold us over for a month. Once we find a house, the kids and I will stay in Arizona with my parents, and Garry will come home to work and pack and finish up here. That meant that if an offer came this weekend, we could be gone for good in a week. The timing would be perfect in many ways. We started to prepare.
By early evening I was antsy. Although I was certain the right thing would happen, I was anxious to know the what and the how and the when. So, even though I am dieting and exercising -- trying to change my life -- I made chocolate chip cookies. After a week of eating rabbit food and drowning myself in water, the chocolate and sugar smelled absolutely divine. Since I was alone in the kitchen, I took a bite of the dough. Delicious. There was a crunchy something, which I assumed was crystallized sugar...except that didn't make sense because the recipe calls for 16 minutes of beating and mixing. Hm. I shrugged and took another bite. Crunchy again. Weird!
As I placed balls of cookie dough on the pan, I was horrified to find the crunchy culprit: weevils. Yes, weevils, those disgusting garden pests that must have infiltrated my flour. Weevils in the cookie dough! And I had surely eaten two of them. I almost threw up. I brushed my teeth twice. I didn't return to the kitchen all night. Weevils. UGH. So much for the cookies.
I managed to survive the night -- even to sleep, despite my whirring mind -- but this morning woke up feeling funky. I was frustrated at sleeping in, which meant I lost my exercise window. I was frustrated at boys who had used up their two-hours-a-day electronics quota before breakfast. I was frustrated at the forecast (93 degrees) in a house without air conditioning. I was frustrated that I still didn't know more than I had the day before about our plans. I was frustrated that I didn't have cookies. I prayed and prayed that I could have a happy heart, that I could overcome the temptation to feel sour. Garry promised to follow up with Realtors (from Friday's promising showing and Sunday's potential offerers) at his first opportunity.
Garry called at 10:30. We had an offer! Yeehaw! But, hold on....it was a ridiculous low-ball offer. Our house is listed at $275,000. They offered $200,000. WHAT?
Oh, and Friday's clients walked. Despite their effusive praise after the showing, our house didn't make their top three. Suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, we are back in the darkness...and just when we thought there was light up ahead.
Shortly after I received this news, Gavin threw up. The vomit splatted right next to the spot where he had cracked five eggs on the floor. And then I realized Zach had missed a mandatory flag ceremony practice for Cub Scout day camp this morning. Later, while I was nursing Lexi, Gavin escaped the house. I finally found him two blocks away, trying to transplant one of our "for sale" signs in someone's yard.
Last week I walked into our backyard and took pictures of the beautiful Spring flowers. Three varieties of lilacs were still fragrant; the bleeding hearts were at the peak of perfection. I think I caught them on their last fabulous day. The Summer heat has wilted most of them now, so I am thrilled to have these photos to remind me of their elegant grandeur.
This really is a gorgeous place to live. The intense blue sky and electric green grass, the spectacular mountains, the cool breeze, the afternoon thunderstorms. I do love it here. Here is good. I can stay here a while longer.