The inspection on what we have been calling "Our New House" (usually followed by me dancing around and squealing a lot) was completed today, and it's all good. Meaning it's pretty much all systems go--still not closed, but one big step nearer to moving in to Our New House. Yay!
Thank you again for the good vibes, and please do keep them coming!
I think this calls for a shoe picture:
These are the shoes I am currently lusting after in earnest (as opposed to the four pairs of shoes in the previous post that I find of interest aesthetically but am not actually considering saving my pennies for), because not only are these awfully pretty, but they are also comfortable, waterproof, warm, and not trendy (read: I will still like them next year). More remarkably, they are the first shoe with a lower-than-three-inch heel that I have lusted after probably ever.
I think that means I am growing up. Or else it means that my crunched-up, blistered feet are shouting that they have had enough. Or maybe--I am leaning towards this theory--they represent the real plausibility of melding urban-barhopping-dancing-queen-shoe-lusting me with blissfully-farming-in-the-backyard-of-Our-New-House me. I mean, I can work a Nanette Lepore skirt AND a row of artichokes in these, maybe even at the same time.
Or maybe I am ascribing too much import to my shoe choices. In support of this theory stands the fact that I consider lusting after a low-heeled boot to be clearer evidence that I am becoming a grown-up than the combined evidences of finishing grad school, getting married and buying a house. But I still like the melding theory better.