all apologies

It seems that I'm doing more apologizing here, than writing, these days. Apologizing for not writing, of course. The last few weeks have been a bit on the tough side, here at chez cabbage.

Zee's sleep has been a little crazy, to say the least and he seems to be teething.
We've been looking for a house. ("What fresh hell is this?")
I've been sick with a head cold all week.

So this explains why my posts have been so sparse. Hope everyone will understand and come back and see me again, when cabbage-world gets back to normal.

We've only been actively searching for a few weeks, now, and I'm already pulling my hair out, wondering if we shouldn't just rent forever, and be done with it. We've found a lovely little house that showed MUCH promise and personality. (is that possible, for a house to show personality?) It was on the market for 128 days. We were harping on the agent's voicemail to get us over there to check it out for a few days. Don't you know that the day before the real estate agent called us back, someone else snatched it up. Bye bye, cute little fairy-tale house.

The rest of these places look like dumps to me. I'm fighting the urge to feel offended that these folks think we would even consider living in houses like these. I like to tell myself that Duane, Zane and I must simply look much handier than we actually are. Though, I know that's not likely

We've seen hundreds and hundreds of houses, online and in person. We've visited homes in the boonies and homes in small towns. We've even seen homes that sat in the unsettling shadow of an enormous pair of nuclear reactors. They followed us half way to our destination, steaming as a faint drizzle of rain fell throughout the area. I gladly forgot they were there until we turned to leave for home. At which time, we found ourselves chasing those hazy monsters over the horizon for a solid 20 minutes driving back into town. Yuck.

I actually ended up losing my patience by the end of the day, and telling the agent how ridiculous the whole experience was. I couldn't believe he dragged us out there, with a baby, in the rain, to show us a bunch of tiny little houses in a grimy, ugly little neighborhood. Asshole. The last house was new construction, but it literally had a "shack" across the street. I said, "Look, I can live in a shitty apartment in the heart of a real city... Why would I move to a glorified shanty town, and take out a mortgage to live in a shitty house?"

Well, I'm off to try to get a little sleep. Wish us luck.