Can't a person get any work done around here?

[prosodic]

So I've spent my afternoon in the kitchen, pulling out all the stuff that can be packed up on Thursday. I've had my headphones on, listening to Celtic music.

Periodically, Lance comes up from the basement, and breaks out into a very horrible jig in the middle of the kitchen.

I can't stop laughing. I'm doubled over...laughing so hard that I'm snorting. And all that does is egg him on even more.

DAMMIT! I'M TRYING TO WORK!!

***

In other news, we found a really fantastic house today, and I am really excited about it. The kitchen is kind of small, but it's cute. The rest of the house is really great. The deck at the back of the house is a thing of wonder. It's GINORMOUS and has multiple levels and...well, it's just fabulous. And the yard is about half an acre and backs up partially into green space. Plenty of room for the dog(s) to run.

And the house is a very cheerful yellow, unlike many of the bland houses we've been seeing. Seattle is cloudy and rainy...why not have a sunny yellow house?

The price is just shy of our maximum...which doesn't thrill me. But if we love the house in person when we go to see it, that might not matter so much.

Comments

[onelargecat.livejournal.com]

This is totally and completely random, but I see that the house you're looking at is in Kent. My car (which was actually my friend's car that I had borrowed for the trip) once broke down in Kent as I was driving up to Seattle from Portland. I had to have it towed to a random garage, have my friend from Seattle come pick me up, and hope the garage could repair the car (needed a whole new transmission!) before I needed to drive back down to Portland three days later. That is what I remember about Kent.

[prosodic.livejournal.com]

I suppose there are worse places to get stranded. My car broke down once in Cleveland, Tennessee...just outside Chattanooga. Lance was the closest person I could call, and he was 4 hours away, so I ended up having to spend the night there in some horrible craphole of a hotel, with the only food nearby being a Waffle House, where they made fun of me because I didn't want to eat grits.

At least Seattle was close. Better than breaking down closer to Portland.