Adventures in Moving

Quite a few folks have been asking about the house, etc. SO, here is the skinny. We are the Griswold and Murphys wrapped in one. Those of us who know us know this to be truth.

We found this house, a rental or owner financed purchase, and it looked really nice. There were 7 acres of land, a well, fruit trees, a full basement and 2 barns. It was everything we were looking for. We inspected the land and the outside of the house. We talked to the owners, who were really nice people, and decided we would rent the place for a bit and then purchase the home from them. We have been waiting on the house to be vacant for about two months.

Flash forward to the weekend of the move. We go to sign the paperwork on Saturday. Everything seems normal. We look at the house and everything is off, power, gas, water......( I am an optimist) we decide we can camp for a day. We are preppers, right? That night the owner calls to tell me about the snakes in the woods and mice in the woods. We are still okay with that. After all, we live in the boonies and there are critters. We have a hunting dog. My thoughts? Take the dog hunting and clear more from the area of the house. Still the trusting optimist.

Moving day: Our sweet friends show up to help us load everything. We are loaded and ready to go. On the way there, the car starts stalling out. Never happened before. I believe this is called foreshadowing...

We get to the house, and the previous tenants are STILL THERE MOVING OUT.... Ever the optimist, I reason we can move in through the front while they move out through the side. (My husband has a look of trepidation on his face at this point, but he is still being the calm and cool one). We take this unexpected extra time to do a more detailed inspection of the home. As we go into the basement, we notice in the corner something odd. Upon closer inspection, we discover they are mini coffins and urns. It seems the previous tenant was a contracted mortician. That also explains the hearse in the driveway. (Yes, I said hearse) We quickly leave said basement as the heebie jeebies are running rampant. The idea of camping out in the house not nearly as appealing at this point. We move upstairs to open windows to air out the wretched stench that seems to be emanating from every room of the home. It is beyond me where this smell is coming from, but I am an optimist and think to myself - I can clean and the smell will go away.

I go outside to breathe for a minute, and during that time my friend and her husband (who is a fire investigator) are doing a more thorough inspection of the basement, the crawl space and are speaking to the previous tenants. I really need some coffee at this point. As my friend walks out of the house I see her face. Hmmmmm, that does not look good. She tells me to sit down. She wants to go over a couple of things she saw. I think, okay-crappage. She begins to tell me the story of the previous tenant's adventures in snake land and rat land. Yes, do we remember the vague reference the home owner made to the snakes and mice in the woods? Evidently, there is also something called the adventures in flea infested land. These wonderful bedtime stories are what every OCD person loves to hear. Evidently, the wonderful creatures of the woods actually made their home in the walls and flooring of this home - evidenced by the multiple dead rats in the crawl space and the liberal sprinkling of snake skins along the floor of the basement. As I begin to feel the prickling along my legs (this is not an OCD idiosyncrasy - I actually had 4 fleas on my legs) I stand up and decide to make a phone call to the sweet old lady who owned the house. At the same time the men repacked the one truck that had been unloaded. You see, at this point we decided we there was NO WAY IN HELL we would be living in critter central.

The sweet old lady talked to me and seemed confused at the state of the home. Why, she had no idea there were snakes in the walls, a full flea infestation and rats in the basement. Was I sure I didn't want to live there? She could put us up in a hotel room while she called an exterminator....Really? I believe the bomb squad is in order for this place. I then begin discussing a refund of our monies, etc. Suddenly this sweet old lady turns into a gangster from Vegas and begins talking about this, that, and the other about why we cannot have our money back. She even tells me it will ruin her grandchildren's Christmas. Still the optimist, I am quite sure I am going to get our money returned to us. So, as she is telling me about her ruined Christmas, I extol the virtues of the Fayette County jail and the free Christmas dinner that may be provided to her at said facility. I go on to tell her about this quirky little thing called fraud and iterate that I am quite willing to put a grandmother of four in jail post haste should our monies not be returned that day and in full. Thankfully, the dear old grandma saw things my way.

We returned to our previous residence, and I spent the next two days unpacking and showering with a brillo pad.

Thus ends the story. Sweet dreams.

 What does this have to do with prepping?  Not a lot.