I really hope you don't find House Stuff annoying. If you do? You might want to click away, because that is pretty much all that there is going on in our world right now. House. House. House. House. House.

The House.

We're still waiting to finalize an agreement to purchase The House. It's pretty much our own fault that it's dragging out another day because Mr. Husband and I? Are jerks. We're totally squeezing the current owner for every penny that we can. The current owner happens to be a bank, so it feels gooooood to be all uppity about every penny. It's like sticking it to The Man, if The Man were a big bank losing a very small portion of its pennies on a foreclosed property.

That little detail adds a whole level of stress, because it's an "As Is" kind of thing. Meaning, there has to be something wrong with the place. We went back on Saturday to scour the joint before we made an offer, and I took about 80 kajillion photos of every little flaw. What I didn't do is take photos of the good stuff, so now I have this whole folder of Really Good Reasons We Should Run Far and Fast.

Like, the lady who lost the house through some series of unfortunate circumstances? She totally didn't go down without a fight.

Um, I think the wall won. I only say that because it's still in the house. It's bruised, it's battered, it has a giant hole in it, but it's still there.

What's not in the house are the kitchen faucets (yes, plural--there are two sinks in the kitchen).

Apparently faucets are worth a lot of money on the black market. If you happen to see somebody standing on a street corner hawking a couple of them, let me know. We might need them if we ever decide to run water in the kitchen.

Also missing is a bunch of cold air return/vent covers.

I have no explanation for the need to walk off with a couple of hunks of cheap metal, but I did spend a crazy amount of time with my head stuck in various holes looking for a reason to take them off in the first place. I got nothing, but how much do you want to bet that those hunks of metal will turn out to be super-special sizes that can only be purchased from The Really Expensive Hole in the Wall Covering Place?

I'd show you the really scary Thing That is Wrong, but then you would realize just how crazy we are, and we can't have that. Let's just say Mr. Husband's project to turn the basement into the Man Cave of his dreams won't be without a whole lot of work. Very gross work.

If it all goes through. That's still a big "IF."