6/11/11
Finally, we wrote the check. It has only taken months for us to do so. It took some level of embarrassment on our part, for while we were chatting with mere acquaintances, we found ourselves telling them, in the midst of a Findlay Market tour, that our interest in downtown was serious. We were planning to buy a home on OTR.
They found this surprising, that we could wax poetically about the history of the home, its former occupants, our plans for a rooftop deck, and yet, had not put one penny down towards future ownership.
So, Mark placed the call to the developer and told him we were ready to meet. We had already seen a few incarnations of plans, but now, it was official. With our check, they could move forward with an actual cost estimate, which for some silly reason, banks and builders need, and we could, in good faith, go on discussing the merits of living downtown.
Ironically, the timing also came on the heels of Mark spraying the clover in our yard, killing more grass than weed. I joked that, from ten thousand feet, the dead grass intermingled with the healthy grass, resembled the leprechaun of the Fighting Irish, replete with green and gold, well brown. Thankfully, a move downtown will prevent Mark from future lawn care gaffes such as this.
I can already hear strains of Country Roads, which Mark can regale the locals with his guitar version, while perched on the rooftop observation deck. Davis and Kaitlyn can pick out their room colors, for they will be the only ones returning with any frequency, to this particular home. And me, I will take time off now, knowing the novel that will write itself upon my occupancy of the second floor study, in full view of the rose window of Music Hall, with the Pinstripes or Seedy Seeds playing in concert at Washington Park. And Enzo will sleep, following our sojourns around the city. His selection of garbage on the streets will be much more appetizing than the occasional pizza box here.
