The warm weather also brought my favorite Brit out of hibernation, showing up on my doorstep to take a count of the slates he has stored in our backyard. It looks as though his attorneys have done well, and he'll be staying in the country, better yet, an offhand comment about my schoolhouse brought forth a "I could do that next month." He thinks the foundation will be no trouble, and we have access to a heavy duty truck and enormous flatbed trailer. I'm giddy and I haven't even seen the building yet, not to mention talking price with the Brit is an exercise in futility . . . If any of you have dealt with having a simple foundation done I'd love to hear from you, we don't know what to expect price wise, other than knowing the price on concrete is insane.
Other than bouncing around like a crazed person over the school house, I started rearranging our guest room in anticipation of house guest season. This shouldn't have been a big deal (other than dragging an armoire up the stairs) until I remembered that the walls only had one coat of paint in places. Why would I have done such a foolish thing you ask? Well, the bank deadline for our 203k loan was absurd, and included nonsense like stripping wallpaper and painting walls. While I couldn't convince the bank inspector that primer was paint, one coat up fooled them, giving me more time to work on things that actually mattered in making the house habitable. So today consisted up me wandering the room, paintbrush in hand, squinting . . .