Galileo

First, one more picture from work. It is not a good one, but it's a little slice of nature anyway.



Various notes...

House

1. Our offer is in on the house. Within 24 hours, we'll know whether it has been accepted (but even if it is accepted, of course, that doesn't mean we're in the "clear" because then there will be inspections and further negotiation, etc). I think we put in a very competitive offer. Someone could still beat us out, but we were trying to also be as gentle as we could be on our bank account despite the good chance that this will be a bidding war in the end. My agent said she'd call if she heard anything at all about another offer coming in so we could re-write our offer if desired. No call yet, so baited breath...

2. With the offer, I submitted the letter. I asked my agent about letters, and she said they were a fine thing to do, and that sometimes personalizing the offer helps. After reading it, she said she could go either way. On further discussion, we eliminated only this: "We will present to you the best offer we can afford..." We kept the letter exactly as-is otherwise, and went ahead and put it in with the offer.

3. If all goes well, we'll be moving next month.

4. Things I am thinking about now:

• Giving notice to our landlord


• Pool safety and also pool covers-- options. Also, caring for pools, salt water system conversions, etc.


• The lead inspection-- how to minimize costs related to lead abatement.


• The utility bills. For heat and hot water, given the use of oil and single zone heating, we are looking at a huge monthly bill. We're wondering if converting to gas is possible in this house, but I didn't notice a gas line. Maybe at least converting to zones? Electric? What's the cost of all this? When can we do this? It is anticipated that next year's oil will go up to $7/gallon! Those predicting the fossil fuel economy is crumbling before our eyes, starting with oil, just might be correct yet!


• Other environmental-economical issues on the domestic front: Is biking/bussing to work now an option (it is a flat and straight shot, but I am a little concerned about safety because the streets out here are crazy and the drivers are crazier). How far is the nearest grocery store from this house, and can we walk there with a wagon...what kind of sidewalks or lack thereof would the route involve? Can we get a wood stove and start stockpiling wood for next winter in case there is a fossil fuel crisis? Can one build a small raised bed vegetable garden on a small plot of concrete...and how does a novice with no natural gardening abilities go about getting started with such a project? How much does a push mower cost and where can we get one so we can replace our old gas mower (which we liked a lot for our former large lawn)?
• The roof-- how much life is left on it and what to do next and will this become part of the negotiations.


• Dog poop-- where will our dog go poop? *That* is the question.


• Neighborhood schools-- will I ask to visit our new neighborhood school and consider a placement for M. there next year in the preschool he gets via his IEP?


• Tax money. We could use some for closing costs, etc. Have we received any yet? What is on its way? What will we be waiting for, for a while?


• How to stay focused at work with all this going on! I can't stop my mind from going a million miles a minute right now. Eeek.


• How will I cope with the disappointment if this doesn't work out? If our offer isn't accepted or if things come unraveled in negotiations?
• And where or where is my trusted Virgin Homeowners Manual? I love that book and want to dig it out before inspections, which I need to get working on scheduling right away if our offer gets accepted tomorrow because we set our deadline for seven days.

Other

Remember the band Queen? Remember Brian May? Did you know he is Dr. Brian May, astrophysicist? I heard him on NPR today http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=90273890, and I loved hearing him talk about the way his worlds intermix. What a joy!

Bloom Where You Are Planted

The sun was on its way down when I took these photos, but hopefully they are bright enough for our purposes.

Here is the view to the left of the church where I serve, heading up our urban street. The trees on the right are "our trees," Bradford Pear trees (non-fruit bearing??) that, according to the senior minister, were purchased in 1986 by some members of the congregation in a cooperative effort with the city to beautify the street.

When they arrived, she said, the saplings were so scrawny and spindly that she was sure they wouldn't survive the winter. Indeed, they did survive, and the tallest is now about 40 feet tall. As you can see above, they nearly touch the trees across the street, next to the Methodist church.

This is the view through the trees, looking up at our steeple. Beautiful. These trees are amazing. They make me think of a type of tree I remember from back in Colorado that has tons of compact balls of small white flowers. They look like snowballs.

In the tree out by my new church, however, the flowers are in smaller, much less compact bunches, and there are these sweet little green leaves that stick out at the ends of each bunch, adding a perfectly-placed accent of color.

I am a city girl. I've always preferred the urban life to the suburban, and certainly to country living. Even if I loved the country, I know I could not survive there. I am not only missing a green thumb, but most everything I try to grow experiences a quick demise in my hands.

Nonetheless, I have a deep appreciation for green, living, growing things, and for mother earth, our home. Just because I need a reminder every year about things as simple as the difference between an annual and a perennial does not mean that I have never sat on the side of a mountain in awe at the smallness of me and the vastness of the ground upon which I sat.

Indeed, some of my most profound spiritual experiences have been on a silent mountainside and/or deep in a tall forest.

One of the things I miss most about Washington State is the green. In Western Washington, we had two notable seasons: rainy and dry. The dry season was our shorter season, lasting a few months each year. It was a short enough season that many folks did not water their lawns, and there would be rows of houses surrounded by brown.

But the whole rest of the year, the earth was green from the heavy, lush ground cover, all the way up the large moss-covered tree trunks, until the green of the leaves on the trees met the sky. I am sure you can understand, from the below photo, why I miss it so dearly.

The above photo from Washington State is not my own (it came from http://www.flickr.com/photos/burchdc/1465029060/in/photostream/). But it is the dominant scene of the area, and a similar picture could have just as easily been taken at a park near our old home. I do miss that. And the rain.

The church I previously served was on the edge of the city, a terribly tucked away location I felt, yet each day when I came into work, I would look behind the church into the small forested area against which it was set, and I felt a sense of peace and calm that I am having trouble finding here.

However, I keep getting the feeling that the more I connect with the earth here in New England, the more grounded I will feel on this land, and the more connected I will feel to this place and its people. The more I connect with the ground upon which I now stand, the better able I will be to bloom where I am planted. And blooming where one is planted is critical for happiness.

So I have been taking walks and admiring all the beautiful flowering plants. (And I am looking forward to our beach time this summer.)

(I think the above one is called forsythia. My photo, taken at night, does not do it justice at all whatsoever.)