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So our new home is a flipped foreclosure, which is why we got such an awesome deal. Rich had researched the loan amount the seller had borrowed this past summer, estimated how much money was spent to flip it, and made the offer accordingly so the guy would make some profit but not take us for a ride.

I feel bad. I am loving this house, unforeseen problems and all, but for some reason the thought of benefiting from someone else's misfortune is eating at me a bit. It'll pass, and no doubt more quickly than it should. :)

We're finding some really weird things as time goes on. At the back of the property there's crap buried under the leaf fall all over the place. There's an old bathtub out there. Rusty old paint cans. I took Ginny through the yard on leash our first day here, and she stepped on a leaf pile and I heard a loud crack and her foot went through. Who knows what's under there. Thank goodness she didn't get hurt.

The previous owners had satellite and we're trying to figure this out. Did they install the dish and then plant the tree right there? Or did they install the dish right behind the tree? Did they have daily conversations about how much their reception sucked?

According to the agent the yard prior to the flip was the shrubbery and plant equivalent of the yard on Pee Wee's Playhouse. She said there wasn't a square inch of yard that wasn't choked with deliberately placed vegetation, and there was nowhere to walk. The flipper spent quite a bit of money, apparently, having most of it yanked. We're positive they couldn't get it all, especially since summer had come by that point, and we're curious to see what pops up in the spring. On Friday when I was out back with the cable guy I saw some morning glories blooming. In late November. I took Ginny out to the back of the yard later that day and found one, lone periwinkle blossom next to a tree. Since periwinkle is invasive and beautiful I told Rich to avoid it with the lawn mower if possible.

There's a very pretty white cat with gray patches that keeps crossing our yard and driving Ginny crazy. I'm wondering who she belongs to. She's sleek and is absolutely not a stray. I'm just getting a bit aggravated that I have to walk outside and scan the yard quickly prior to taking Ginny out every time. She loves "her" cats, and treats them very gently, but she does have a very high prey drive, and I fear for the cat if she's out there when Ginny gets set loose.

The thing that strikes me most strongly about this house is the peace. I sit in the chair by the living room windows to rock Jonas for his naps, and I watch the front yard through the blinds. The Bradford Pears are happy little starter trees, and I can't wait to see them bloom in the spring. I occasionally see a car doing the posted 15mph past the house, but mostly it's totally serene out there. We're two houses in from the corner, which is the highway, and if we go outside we do see crazy people taking those curves a bit too quickly. Our street, though, is simply fantastic.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving here in the US, and I'm cooking. Today I will make pie and prep everything for the Most Awesome Stuffing Ever. The house will smell amazing. When the sun finally peeks out we'll all go outside so Ginny can run for a bit and we can walk back in to the smells of nutmeg and cinnamon and vanilla and cloves.

Is there anything better than walking into a house full of good smells?

Yep. I'd say it's passing more quickly than it should.