I realize that my idea of junk food may not be the same as everyone else’s.  I do do some of the normal things, like steal my husband’s large bag of oversize m&m’s and eat them until I feel as though I might pass out from chocolate overdose.  (He tries to hide them, but I have good ears and I can hear where he put them.  And even when I can’t, it doesn’t take much to sucker that fellow into sharing his chocolate with me.  Because he loves me.  Can’t you tell?)

Those last three sentences were a completely hypothetical situation, in case you were wondering.  An example.  To make me more like the rest of the world.  Because the rest of the world does stuff like that.  Wait, did I use the word “normal” up there?  Sigh.  Let’s just start over.

I have some weird junk food issues.  And my favorite, shamefully, is pimiento cheese spread.

I discovered pimiento cheese spread on a family/friend vacation to South Carolina about ten years ago.  We were in deep, deep Southern country, where there were rows and rows absolute vats of the stuff in every grocery store.  My Mom made me a pimiento cheese sandwich one day as something different, and I was in love ever after.

In the North, however, pimiento cheese is some kind of specialty food.  My Mom would occasionally find a teeny tiny box of it at a gourmet deli and bring it home, for an exorbitant price, with a loaf of tiny rye bread slices and we would portion it out as tiny appetizers.

But I found bliss my first day of grocery shopping here in Cincinnati.  Apparently this part of the Midwest is just close enough to Southern country that what did they have at the local Aldi’s but containers of your standard, every day, non-gourmet pimiento cheese for cheap.

Please don’t lecture me on what is in this stuff.  I know.  This stuff is not Northern deli gourmet food made from only the finest cheeses.  This stuff is for real.  Preservatives, processed cheese, and all.  I might just be selling my soul to eat it.

But it is good.  When Andy is at work and I need something comforting and cozy, I find myself whipping out this container of garishly orange junk and shoveling it in with crackers.

Delicious.  Please don’t judge me.  And please tell me I’m not crazy for loving pimiento cheese spread?

Well.

My brain is so fuzzy that that’s all I can think to write.  Then why am I reading this? I’m sure you’re asking.  I don’t know.  But bear with me.

Well.

I just sat here for a minute with absolutely nothing in my mind, staring at the computer screen as if somewhere among the editing buttons on my drafting page was one that could download the thoughts I can’t access in my head.

Gosh, I am tired.  Let’s try again.  Andy and I are officially residents of Cincinnati, Ohio.  It’s finally happened.  We are no longer living with my parents!  We’re no longer homeless leeches!  This is huge!

We’ve worked like dogs (quite literally… I have panted a lot.  And that is why I couldn’t think properly at the start of this post.) the last few days since moving in, and our apartment is turning out to be lovelier and more cozy than I ever imagined it could.  I can’t wait to share it with you.  But I’m saving it until the rooms are done… I want to show it to you in its completed glory, my beautiful new little home.  It is such a happy thing to have a completely new space, to throw out old furniture and go out and buy the exact stuff that I want (it helps that my tastes are cheap…) and that fits our new home perfectly.  It seems as though our rooms are morphing and expanding to fit our things as if it is custom-making itself to us.  I realize that I’m waxing a bit long about a new, builder grade apartment but seriously… it’s wonderful.

So stay tuned for photos, bargains, decorating leaps of faith, and restocking of the pantry (we currently own a box of gingersnaps and one dark mocha almond Kashi granola bar.  Oh, and a jug of cranberry juice.  I kid you not.)  I have lots to share!

But you’ll have to wait a week.  Because we’re going away.  I just got the suitcases unpacked but we’re off again.  We’ll be back in PA for a few days and then I am heading to St. Louis for an unexpected, but long overdue visit.

There will be posts magically appearing in the meantime, so keep reading!  You’ll perhaps get some glimpses into our new home…

I’m coining a new definition for the term “craptastic” today.  I know that it’s usually sarcastic and normally I’m just not the type of person to say things like that – I’m a little too mild.  But from today, no longer.

There are a lot of things in the world that are crappy, but when you look at all the good things that God is doing through them, they turn out to be pretty fantastic.

So the crappy?

The house fell through.  We’re moving into an apartment next weekend.

The fantastic?

We got seven weeks with my family.
I got to experience a real summer.
We were able to spend a week with my grandparents.
My Mom cooked almost all my meals this summer.
Andy had extra energy to work on his lesson prepping.
I got to see several friends I would not otherwise have been able to see.
I read Harry Potter with my two youngest siblings.
We got a two month break from housekeeping.
We got to put off the inevitable appliance and new sofa shopping.
We saved a month’s worth of rent.
I got to spend loads of time with the great people in my home church.
I learned how to cut hair (sort of).
I became healthy again.
Andy and I actually feel rested.

I have seen the Lord’s hand at work guiding this whole process.  He knows what he is doing, and I’m in a place where I can trust that, thanks to his grace.

I could scream and cry and eat candy all day long and I could mope a little bit more.  And I tottered on the edge for a while.  But then my brother pops in just to give me a hug.  And I know it’s just not worth it.  And I will vent my feelings by just saying that the whole affair is craptastic – but now that is a positive term, yes?  :)

So, our house.  The house.  The house that we’re trying to buy.  Not, I keep reminding myself, our house.

So, the house.  The house that is sitting in Cincinnati that I’d love to live in but am not sure that I ever will get to live in.  Yes, I just may be living with my parents for the rest of my life.  I’m more and more certain of it every day.

I digress.

So, the house.  Let’s just say that the process has not been smooth.  It was a foreclosure, so we expected some complications and were mentally fortified.  And we handled it well for a while.

First our offer was rejected, and then accepted.  Then, we’ve waited patiently for almost three months as our closing date has changed constantly and finally dropped off the face of the earth.

And then there was the mold.  I can’t even talk about that.  Let’s just say that after MUCH haggling, they’re going to pay for it… since it was their negligence in leaving the sump pump off that led to the mold in the first place.

Needless to say, we’ve been patient.  And every time we were tempted to walk away, everything worked out.  God seemed to be working things out in his own time and teaching us patience.  And we finally seemed to have things under control.  Our closing date was to be this Friday, July 16th.

But then.  THEN.  Then today, we get this call:

Folks, we finally got the water turned on in the house so that the appraiser could inspect it.  But we didn’t know that the pipes had frozen while it was off… so they burst.  And they flooded the ceilings.  And now we have to replace all the piping and redrywall and paint all the ceilings.  And there’s no word yet on electrical or carpet damage.  And… we won’t even decide on a contractor for about a week.

WHAAATTTT??!!!???

So Andy and I are learning to be grown ups.  We are learning that being a responsible adult does not always mean just being patient and passive and waiting on the Lord.  It also means taking action.  It means that instead of just saying “Okay, let us know when you’re done, this must be God’s will”… we need to take action to follow God’s will too, even if that means walking.

And we need to write to the bank with a bristling note making our demands known, giving a specific time limit for how long they have to fix this before we walk, declaring our rights to have it inspected to ensure that it wasn’t a shoddy job, and that we can walk away whenever we choose to if we don’t like how they handle this.

Which, my awesome husband did this evening, with great confidence, brutality, and menace.  What is that saying of Jesus?  ”Wise as serpents, innocent as doves”?  That’s us, baby.  Meek and sweet Leah and Andy, the pushovers of the ages, are finally learning to be adults.  To balance patience and contentedness with shrewdness.

Sigh.  So here we are.  Anybody out there with words of wisdom or similar experiences to console my poor self with?

Andy and I have been doing this crazy thing – buying a house site unseen.  So when the closing date got pushed back and we were actually able to be present for the home inspection, we were thrilled.  We were even more thrilled when we found that the pictures we’d seen didn’t even come close to doing the house justice.

While we were at peace about buying the house without seeing it in person, it wasn’t until after I stepped foot inside that I really felt as though I was headed for a real place, and a real new home.

And although we had a great deal of contentment and confidence in our purchase before, it sure is nice to have that weight of trepidation and anticipation removed.

So it’s done, and so it begins.  The goodbyes are said, and here comes hello!!!