I did that when I moved into an apartment in Ypsilanti. I suppose I should have wondered about all the iron bars that surrounded the place.

So we got a six-month lease on an apartment, figuring that we'd spend two or three months idly looking and scouting about, maybe two months finalizing negotiations, and moving in perhaps a month early.

What actually happened was we went out for dinner, ordered Chinese takeout at the second-best Chinese restaurant I've ever been to, and were told we had to wait for fifteen minutes.

During those fifteen minutes, we bought a house.

Well, not really; we found the house, it was about $20,000 less than we thought it was at first sight, and decided to hang around on the front lawn pathetically until the owner came out.

"Yes?" she said suspiciously.

"About the house...."

"Oh," she said, and proceeded to tell us that it was for sale, she had a buyer but he had just counteroffered their counteroffer, and she couldn't let us in right now but her agent was showing it to another couple tomorrow at 11:00.

We called the agent when we got home. No response.

So we showed up at her house at 10:30, hoping to buttonhole the agent. We hung out on the lawn, going into the back yard and peering at the grass, trying to figure out how you got in the garage....

The owner came out in a nightgown and asked us what the hell we were doing.

Who the heck stays home for a house showing? Feeling embarassed, we promptly made excuses as she rapidly changed into jeans. The agent showed up and we walked into the living room.

"We're buying this, aren't we?" Gini whispered.
"Yeah," I agreed, "But we should probably look at the rest of the house."

We did. It worked. We paid full price, $160,000, thus enraging the guy who had been dickering with them and trying to buy it for $158,000. Sometimes more is better, chum.

The house is in pristine condition, because the previous owner was a maniac. She redid the whole basement, bought a new roof, kept everything perfect... The house inspector, whose very job relies upon finding flaws in perfectly-fine houses, only had four things to fix... And one of them was a bird's nest.

So we bought it. And during the whole time we were finishing up the paperwork, we kept going back to look at it and sigh happily, and then the owner would come out with a look that told us that she was begining to think of us as stalkers.

Because Gini's embarassed by these things, I won't tell you about the time that she brought her sister over to show her the house and asked to see the inside - only to interrupt the owner, who was zipping up her gown just before she left for her wedding.

Yessiree, knocking on the door and saying, "Hey, I know you're about to get hitched - but on your special day, couldja give me a tour of your basement?"

That's Gini.

Oh, and since we found a house within a month of moving, we had to pack everything back again and pay $1200 to get out of the lease. And pack up the house again, less than two weeks after we unpacked. Ouch.

For those of you who haven't seen the Casa Du Ferrett, here's the guided tour:

Our House:
This is our house, complete with tree. That tangle of lights off to the right is the infamous moose, which is really best not seen in the daytime - however, is perhaps one of the best entertainment purchases I've ever had, since we still have it up. Yes, it is April. No, none of our neighbors have asked us why we have a lighted wire moose in our yard. (It's a tribute to Alaska, and plus it makes it really easy to find our house - "Turn left at the moose.") I'm going to have to remove it soon because I have to mow the lawn, but some have suggested that we simply move the moose around the yard and claim it's grazing. I want to remove the moose head, complete with Christmas lights, and mount it over the fireplace - but Gini has no sense of humor about these things. (Editor's note: In between the time I wrote this and the time I finally got access to my server again, I had to remove The Moose. Now neither Gini and I can find our house, and we keep driving past our house like total Mongoloids.)

The driveway is about as narrow as it looks, and I've damn near clipped a rear window off from time to time, though Gini has no problem zooming out at Mach 5 in reverse. I have no talent. It's also a long driveway, and I have to fearfully edge my way back out of. Generally this is a half an hour's commitment.

Thanks to my Dad for brightening this photo, which I am distinctly too lazy to do for the rest of this site.

My Computer Desk:
Here is where I am, eight hours out of every day. The picture under the clock is a photo that Erin took of some leaves; I wanted a really dramatic shot of her friends, but she said it was too good and she wanted to keep it for herself - so I got secondsies. Puppies, as always, are atop my computer (and, as you shall see, the Elephant Blanket is on the bed).

The Bathroom:
Gini considers this deliciously retro, what with the pink tiles and all - and for Christmas, I got her a set of bright pink towels, giving the whole place a kind of festive Laverne and Shirley atmosphere. Adding to this is the the official Kit-Kat Clock (tm) ($29.99 mail-order, not shown) with the swinging tail pendulum and the eyes that go back and forth. Yes, our bathroom really is this clean... Usually. I didn't show the toilet, which is sparkling, since I doubt you'd share my great joy with it. The bathroom is right next to my office, which is awfully convenient in the mornings.

We also just spent $350 to install a fan in here. Spending money on a house - still a weird concept.

Bedroom:
This is our bedroom, with the rather lush hardwood floor. It may look undecorated - and it was undecorate originally, but we eventually we decided we rather liked the Zen sparseness of just a floor and no pictures. (The rest of the house is rife with pictures.) For the longest while, Gini had a hardwood table (she's on the left) while I had a big ol' ratty box, which pretty much split the bedroom into "taste" and "white trashville." Eventually, I got my own table, which makes me really happy. What you don't see is the large, mahogany dresser that Gin got for a mere $350 - and she'll cheerfully tell you what a bargain it was at the drop of a hat. Note the Legendary Elephant Blanket, which I still sleep with sometimes (though mostly it's on a heap by the bed).

Living Room:
Gini looked over my shoulder as I was attaching this and cried, "Ooo! That's a pretty house!" Damn straight it is.

The furniture is all from the old resident, glass tables included. I didn't want the glass tables because I was afraid they'd break, but our kids have been marvelously responsible when they've been down here.

The couch had a fatal gut wound that was slowly bleeding fiber out, and eventually it exploded in a flurry of cotton - forcing Gin to sew it back together. Now, the couch merely has this habit of having the cushions slide out from underneath you as you sit, and eventually you realize that your butt is hanging out about two feet in front of your head. Oh, and there are mysterious pen marks all over the couch, a thing which our lovely daughter Erin certainly would never do, even if the only other suspect is me and I never sit there.

The television is off to the right, where Gini hates it... But it was one of the few battles I won here. She put up all the pictures, decorated the nook, and arranged the furniture - I got the TV upstairs. I think I got the better deal. Eventually, we put a second TV downstairs anyway.

Kitchen:
Needless to say, this is our kitchen, where I am slowly metamorphosing into Gini's Bitch - read on, Macduff. The hoosier cabinet to the right was gotten for $150 at an antique mall, and Gini couldn't be happier with it. The stove is the bane of my existence, since I keep it clean - including, at one point, cleaning up boiling oil while it was still bubbling from a fried chicken disaster. The Bread Machine, which was never used in Anchorage, is used on a weekly basis here; a loaf of Hawaiian sweet bread lies trapped within the machine at this point, and I will cheerfully eat some of it after I'm done typing this.

NEXT: How I Became A Bitch