We stayed home this past weekend. Other than a brief house-hunting expedition on Saturday and attendance at service on Sunday, we remained in all weekend.
My mother has been busy devising ways to use the pumpkin pulp that had resulted from the previous weekend’s pumpkin project. On Friday night, she made pumpkin bread (with raisins and walnuts), one of my mother’s specialties. On Saturday afternoon, she made pumpkin cookies. Late Sunday afternoon, she made pumpkin soup. If we parcel things out properly, we shall have pumpkin pulp on hand through Thanksgiving—and, if we run out, we shall go buy more pumpkins.
On Saturday morning, everyone in the family went to examine a house Joshua and I were considering for a purchase. Josh and I had been looking at houses since Labor Day, and we had settled upon a house that we think is right for us. We wanted all family members to see the house in order to collect their opinions.
The exterior of the house is completed, but the interior has not been finished. Interior walls are in place, but the interior is otherwise a shell.
No one had any objections to the house other than my nephew and niece, who both thought the barren interiors very odd.
We discussed the matter for the remainder of the weekend—and we consulted about such matters as price and offer terms. At the conclusion of the weekend, our decision was to offer twenty-one per cent less than the asking price and await a response from the builder.
On Monday morning, Josh and I submitted a written offer and tendered earnest money.
Our offer was accepted within three hours.