so, I bought a house

This is from Late 2006

I purchased a house. My wife and I purchased a house. A bank gave my wife and me the money to purchase a house. The bank loaned my wife and me a large sum of money to purchase this house. The bank sold the loan, the paper, the rights to the debt for the money they supplied to my wife and me for the house we bought but we do not own. I do not know where the paper is now, but I know that I am seriously in debt to someone. We are seriously indebted.

I was not allowed to touch the check for the money the bank loaned to us. My wife never saw the check for the money the bank loaned us. I'm not sure that the money ever existed, or if there have been any questions about the money.

I have a key to the front door of the house and so does my wife. The key operates the lock in the dead bolt and the lock in the door knob. My wife and I argue about what constitutes locking the door. The keys operate the locks on the back door as well.

Since moving in I have not been in the attic, and I'm not sure that it still exists.

The prior owners painted walls colors that walls should not be painted. No one said that yellow was the next anything. Pastel green is not soothing unless you are a paint salesperson with an overstock of pastel green paint. My wife had never held a paintbrush. I am famously ambivalent toward the details that make a difference. She is a natural. I am a bull in a china shop.

I spilled the paint. I tracked wet paint from the drip cloth to the kitchen when I went for a glass of juice. We chose a soft greyish blue so close to white to cover the yellow and the pastel green. We wanted to make bolder choices, but we didn't want to offend the house. The house, though technically ours, has not yet accepted our residence and is withholding judgement. Once we have gained its trust, it will let us know what to do next. You must understand, after being painted yellow and pastel green, the house is hesitant to trust.

After changing hands three times in the last decade, the house doesn't believe that we're here for the long haul. The house has heard that before, then it was sold, then it was painted pastel green, with a darker pastel green accent stripe along the top quarter of the wall, then it was painted yellow, then a collection of plates with glazed on scenes in pastoral blue were hung all over its walls. There are indignities that even a house cannot long endure without losing, in some degree, the ability to trust.

The house needs to know that we love it. The house needs to know that we only want to grow old with it. We need to coax from the house its true character, but it won't give up the goods until we convince it that this time it will be different. It's a patience game. We're taking it slow.