The day has finally arrived! We get to sign the papers and close on the farm. It’s a better feeling than Christmas!…. Well lets not get carried away….I take that back. We are both overly excited and watching the clock for our 2pm closing time. While I wait, I feel like it’s a good time to tell all our family and friends about this new house, so I prematurely send out an email to over 100 people with our new address. Moments later my husband calls, “You know it’s bad luck to send that email out right?”…Pff…nonsense. He then has to go because our realtor was calling on the other line. He calls back. “I TOLD YOU IT WAS BAD LUCK!” Sure enough 1 hour before closing when we are already on our way to do the final walk through, the lender finds out that they need a road agreement to approve the loan. A What?! Who cares?! 

So we wait on the front porch of the house we still don’t own for hours as they try to figure things out. Then we get the call! They figured out the road agreement, but now their phones and internet are down so they can’t print the paper work. My husband just stares at me with those “You shouldn’t have sent that email” look. We continue to rock on our vintage medal swing for another couple hours.

When it rains, it pours. No seriously, it started to pour down rain and our roof is leaking. Well not “our” roof…”their” roof. I couldn’t even look in my husbands direction because I could feel the lighting bolts coming from his eyes. Thank goodness the phone rang. Good news, we can still close on the house! We jumped in the car and headed to sign some paperwork.

After our hands cramped up and our bank accounts were emptied, it was time to celebrate. Family and Friends came over to explore the house and to thank our realtors for all the hard work they went through to get us this house. Our realtors made us feel like their only clients with the amount of attention needed to finalize this sale. Go Team Caines! We all sat together on that beautiful front porch, listening to the rain and soaking in the view, catching the water in buckets from “our” leaking roof.