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Painting yourself into a new home

“UH-OH,” I said loudly from the upstairs bedroom. “Big uh-oh.”

“I heard that!” husband-head yelled from downstairs. “WHAT-oh did you do now?”

I didn’t answer.



“I’m coming up and it better not be bad,” he warned as he bounded up the stairs.

We were painting rooms in our new house and while husband-head did the kitchen, I had been assigned to the master bedroom. Let’s just say that, um, I’m not a very good painter.



“You have more paint on you than you do on the walls!”

husband-head exclaimed as he surveyed the room and pulled a big glob of paint out of my hair. “You missed all kinds of spots and the ceiling paint is dripping all over the floor!”

Okay, so we all can’t be Michaelangelo …

But painting is just one of the many fun activities we’ve engaged in since buying our home. If you have ever wanted to test the strength of your relationship with your significant other, I would highly suggest this endeavor.

The whole home-buying process itself is right up there on the fun meter with having a root canal ” only it takes a lot longer.

First you pick out a house. We accomplished this by taking the dogs on a walk through the neighborhood. The first “for sale” sign they peed on was the house we chose.

Next, you need to borrow some money from your friendly local banker. These people are happy to lend you large sums of dough after thoroughly examining your credit report and then sitting around the table and laughing hysterically with other bankers. I’m now convinced that even if you’re monthly female cycle is late, it goes on your credit report.

“Pretty soon they’re going to ask for blood samples and hair follicles,” I informed husband-head. “I sure hope they don’t want nude photographs …”

And let’s just say that while 300 may be a perfect bowling score, it is not considered a good credit score.

Your real estate agent is the person who acts as the liaison between you and the seller of the house. Plan to have an unnatural relationship with your agent as you will be talking to him or her many, many, many times ” and that’s just in one hour.

“What do you mean we have to go sign something again?”

husband-head asked as I hustled him out of the house to the realty office. “It seems like we have to sign something every time someone passes wind!”

Pretty much.

After you’ve put down earnest money, a down payment and agreed to borrow enough to put you in debt for the rest of your natural life, then there are the closing costs.

Nobody really understands closing costs, except perhaps the lenders, because they are shrouded in the same kind of mystery as the infamous “G” spot ” the closing costs, that is.

The actual closing itself is a hoot, as you spend about one hour continuously signing and initialing your name on 3 million pieces of paper. The fun part is to look at the very last document and see how closely your signature resembles the check you once wrote after a long night at the bar …

Actually, our lender and real estate agent were great, although I didn’t really realize it until it was all over with ” kind of like my mom felt about me after I finally grew up and moved out of the house …

The evening after we closed, we sat on the hardwood floor in the living room of our new home, sharing a bottle of champagne and thinking about all the work we had ahead of us.

“How are we ever going to get this all done?” I asked incredulously. “I know, why don’t I just go on a Caribbean vacation and move in when you’ve got everything ready?”

“Nothing doing, toots,” husband-head disagreed. “This is a team effort.”

But before we could move anything, painting came first ,and husband-head agreed to finish the project.

“Now THIS is the way it should be done,” he proudly showed me afterwards. “What do you think?”

I inspected it closely and pointed to the wall.

“Uh-oh, you missed a spot.”

Heidi Rice is a Rifle correspondent for the Post Independent. Her column runs every Friday. Visit her Web site at http://www.heidirice.com.


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