Like this mystery button hidden inside a bookcase:
Here's where it belongs:
Ignoring these oddities
And the old folks countered.
And we counter-countered.
And they counter-counter-countered.
At that point, I told DL to stop the insanity and walk the heck away. Actually, I told him he was insane and I would have him committed if he continued.
But he didn't listen to my little voice--the voice that said "Yo!" in a mean Philly accent. The voice that threatened to bust his kneecaps. The voice that had cement overshoes conveniently located in the trunk of the car.
DL kept going, and eventually broke the old folks down. (Helpful hint: just because the bank WILL give you a mortgage with which you are grossly uncomfortable doesn't mean you should take it.)
Papers were signed and delivered, and the next day at 8 a.m. we got a phone call.
Our realtor told us the old people were backing out.
They couldn't leave their house. (At this point, I was ready to walk away. No, not walk...run like Wilma Rudolph in the 100 metre dash. Run like Seattle Slew at the Kentucky Derby. Run like I was covered with a zillion fire ants. Which shoud probably be a 'stop, drop, and roll sorta thing, but I would run.) But my realtor convinced me to write a note, letting them know that I would take great care of the house and honor the legacy of the artists who built it, which was mostly true. So, the old folks changed their minds, and the house was ours.
Little did we know, not only did they not want to leave...they wanted to take the house with them.
Yep. Another one. Go figure.
Meanwhile, check out this awesome giveaway that Janis is hosting for Royal Design Studio!