Could they come by this afternoon at 2:00? Umm, that would be a no. I have a job. And I took off two hours on Monday. And 45 minutes yesterday. Three consecutive days would be a bit much.
Plus, there is the matter of the appraiser needing to measure and photograph each room. The living room and dining room would not present a problem. The kitchen is still a little out of array from my having climbed in through the window, but easily tidied.
The hall is full of boxes from when hospice came. The middle bedroom is filled with boxes. I haven't looked in there in weeks. There might be a path through the middle of it.
My studio and bedroom will require maybe an hour apiece. All eminently doable, unassisted, but not between last night's Knit Night and leaving for work this morning.
So I told them "next week." And they will be here late Monday afternoon.
The meeting with the mortgage company went well. Disclosures are all signed. Closing sometime in the next 30 days, most likely.
They have to order copies of my tax returns, a legible copy of the HUD statement from the prior purchase by Beloved and his late wife from somebody's archives because my copy is so faded as to be useless, and who knows what else.
But on paper I look remarkably solvent. We should alert the Guinness people.
In knitting news, I have finished the sleeve increases and am working back and forth towards the back of the neck. The jacket is still an unwieldy, colorful amoeba. Turning it at the end of each row is rather a production. I'm about to add on another ball of yarn. I've lost count of how many so far.
So I counted.
What's left? Five whole balls plus a tiny partial one; half a ball from that last disconcerting knot mid-ball; and the one that's in my knitting bag to be joined somewhere along the next row. Roughly six and a half balls. So approximately twelve and a half balls have gone into this jacket. Because I just remembered the ball I used up while swatching.
Time for breakfast and then out the door. Massage tonight, because my knees have been cranky all week since the last one. I can't decide if it's a healing sort of cranky or not. (It feels a lot like when I broke my femur line dancing. And I can't take the Naproxen because I've been eating grapefruit.)
Breakfast. Breakfast would be good.