Anyway, we're moving right along with the purchase of Petit Clos. We received the mortgage paperwork from BNP that we have 10 days to review before signing and returning. I'm thinking it would be a good idea to have it translated even though we know the jist of what it includes: 20 year loan; 7 year variable at 2.9% with a cap of -2/+2 for the remainder of the loan, no prepayment penalties, not life insurance requirements (that other banks required), and a $1500 bank fee.
We've heard back from M. Coussy about the inventory list and although he isn't leaving everything we had hoped for, we are damn lucky he is leaving anything at all I suppose. Hell, 6 armoires, multiple beds, tables & chairs. But, we will also be left with a bunch of junk as well, so we'll be sorting through a lot once we arrive. which brings me to the mystery question of the hour: "When, exactly will we arrive in France?"
Until our house sells, we cannot purchase our tickets, book the container, sell our cars and whatever else is not going, schedule final garage sales, get the pets their needed medical exams (they must be 10 days prior to departure), schedule the artisans (roofing, heating, electrical & plumbing), fly to Denver to obtain Colorado ID's and most, most importantly, confirm that Caleigh will be able to begin the school year in Duras. Don't even get me going about how much I worry about that. Hell, I'm ruining her life as it is; I cannot screw up her education and future can I ?!
Which brings me to our latest bad parenting decision. Much like many divorced or just plain absent parents' guilt-fueled indulgences toward children they barely see, we actually succumbed to one of Caleigh's incessant requests to have a belly piercing most likely due to some of the guilt we feel in ripping her away from her life and friends yet again. It is not the worst looking thing in the world and she knows that she cannot get anything else pierced until she is an adult, but what the hell was I thinking? I actually went with her to the little piercing/tattoo parlor down the street from my office in Venice Beach on a beautiful summer day last week. We borrowed my company's beach cruisers and rode down the boardwalk and went into a place that she had researched on the internet. At first, I decide to videotape the piercing with my old school cell phone, but that did not work so well as my finger was blocking the lens. As I'm doing this, I start to think what a looser parent I am (attempting to) videotape my daughter's belly piercing and am reminded of the movie "13" where the Holly Hunter mom character sadly tries to be cool in her daughter's eyes. Thankfully it's done in less than a minute so we pay up and ride back to my office in silence. Caleigh's was probably due to her imagining just how cool she is going to be with her friends (before she realizes just how painful this is going to be in a few hours and the fact that she is not supposed to swim in a pool or the ocean for over a month and we happen to be smack in the middle of summer) and mine, as I'm wondering just where my parental judgement has gone.
