So it seems that the man we bought our house from is a crazy old guy that no body has a nice word to say about.
When the guys were over at the house last night cleaning out the metal shed in the back yard, some lady came over and told them they were not allowed to be doing that. Danny was very polite and told her that he had bought the house and that he was allowed to be doing that. And she was adamant that no, he was not, that the contents of that shed, and the shed itself belonged to the State of Mississippi. Do what?! So the North Mississippi Regional Center (adult home for mentally ill folk) used to rent the house from the old guy that owned it and apparently the shed is theirs. Well, that is news to us. And news to them that someone had bought the house. We had bought a new shed based on the size of the shed that was already there; new shed for stuff that needs to stay clean (bikes, strollers, tents etc) and old shed for dirty stuff (lawn mower, shovels, potting soil, pots etc). Not to mention the guys had loaded all of the gear onto the rented trailer that needed to be returned today and now couldnt be used for anything else that night. So they left the trailer at the house and the folks from the NMS regional center collect the rubbish from the shed today and are collecting the shed tomorrow. Where the heck does that leave us? Something that was ours is no longer ours. Craziness. So we got our realtor on the case, told him how much we wanted the old owner to give us for the shed, given that he did not disclose the fact that it was not ours. I doubt he is going to give us a single penny, miserly old man, but fingers crossed.
Much worse than that, Danny tried to kill himself. He runs around at twenty miles an hour because he is trying to make everything perfect - I think because he worries that he was the one that wanted to move and he doesnt want to give me anything to complain about. Dont get me wrong, I havent complained about anything yet and dont intend to because WE are moving, but I think its what troubles him. I am just fine moving into a gutted house because I know its temporary, but he is going on a field trip for three weeks and I think he feels a little guilty that Im going to be living in a construction site on my own with a wee-baby. Anyway, back to the story of how he almost killed himself because he was trying to go to fast. He was going to hook up the washer and drier but decided he was going to test the drier plug before he attached it to the drier to check it was the right size. But the three wires were all touching when he pushed the plug into the wall. There was a huge explosion and he apparently stood there in shock for a few minutes. Thankfully he is fine, but he of course, wont listen to me about slowing things down, so perhaps you could call him and let him know that we would like to keep him around a little longer and perhaps he could slow down the pace a little.
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