So, the new house.

I didn't get to work til 2:30pm today because it took the security guy over SIX hours to install my new home security system.

And guess who already set it off...

"Yes, is this Ann Pittman?"
"It is."
"This is Brinks Home Security System and your alarm is going off at your home."
"That figures."

The first day it's installed, the boogerheads trip it off.

There's a motion detector see, and well, you know how Potter behaves.

"Would you like us to send the police?"
"No thank you, I'm pretty sure it's my cats."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, besides, I have two retired neighbors on either side of my house who will go check it out. If someone's broken in, they'll call 911."

And they will. Especially Clarence. He lives to the west of me and is fabulous. Today when I saw him, I told him about the new security system and he said he'd install a motion detector in my back yard to ensure my safety.

He's great.

"Are you off to school?" he asked.
"No sir, I work. I'm a pastor."
He looked puzzled.
"An associate pastor... a college minister."
"Oooh," he said after the shock set in, and proceeded to tell me where everyone in the neighborhood attends church.

He seemed pleased about my occupation, and I asked him to mail a letter for me since I have no mailbox.

That's right. No mailbox. One more thing on the list of things to buy for the new house.

Refrigerator? Check.
Mailbox? Tomorrow.

What else is missing you ask?

Telephone jacks.

That's right. The house is great. I did a really stellar job of picking it out. But of course it would have one or two oddities to it, I mean, come on. And this house has no phone jacks.

Those I discovered will cost as much as my fridge so Michelle's dad has graciously agreed to put some in on Sunday just for the cost of gas.

All in all though, I've no complaints.

I've only been scared once at night. And I didn't call anyone, I just sucked it up and went to bed.
I've managed to not break anything yet. And neither have the cats.
I couldn't figure out how the dishwasher worked, but Sam fixed that little bit of ignorance.
Zorba cried all night the first night and then refused to come out from under the bed, but now seems pretty content.
And I've even done some weeding in my front yard.

Now the back yard? (or should I say back jungle?)

That's a story for another post...