I had scheduled today off work before I knew this week would be filled with house-buying-related errands, but it worked out well as Gloria was able to schedule my home inspection today at I time that I was easily able to be there and have the luxury of staying through the entire process. [I]nspector John was very thorough, testing every drawer in the kitchen, running full cycles on the washer and dryer, climbing up into the attic, bouncing on the patio floor. I took pictures of everything and Gloria and I followed John around asking questions, taking breaks occasionally to crack jokes about the decor and trade horror stories with John about scary houses we’d all seen. He found very little of consequence – a moderate wiring upgrade necessary in the breaker box, a small crack in the tub surround – and provided me a very short list to ask the seller for. Gloria’s hunch is that the seller should be willing to address most of it as we’ve asked them for very little so far.
I found a new shortcut between my new place and the old one on the way home for a quick lunch, enjoying a rare drive in my Z on what by now had turned into a beautiful, crisp fall Seattle day. Then to Z Sport, to talk cars with the mechanics and get a free-checkup that came out great. They complimented me on my car and its condition, and we discussed some things I’d like to do with it, things that are probably on hold for a bit now that I’ll be paying a mortgage but are still fun to talk about.
Then to Marysville and the emissions test center, where my Z passed easily on the first try, something it didn’t do two years ago. It could have been many things – weather, warmer engine, under-funded and miscalibrated state-run test facilities – but it made me feel good to think it might have also been my extra effort in the last year to do more of the preventative things and take a little better care of it.
And then, as if a Friday off work, driving my Z around in the sunshine, getting good news and hanging out with friendly people wasn’t enough that I should appreciate it in a blogular way, I found it. I found my lost iPod. Where, you ask? Why, in the inside pocket of the bag I carry to work every day. A bag I have literally dumped sideways, shaken, patted down and practically disassembled in search of my missing iPod. There it was, in its case, as though I had put it there yesterday. All I can figure is that the iPod gnomes must have felt guilty for taking it and returned it to its proper place, after the statute of limitations expired on their standard waiting period for confiscated objects. How else can you explain that it reappeared exactly one week (almost to the hour) after my replacement iPod arrived?