2015 Sunday -- Short Sunday

Three years ago today we drove the 4-hours north to the little town of Cayucos on California's Central Coast to meet our real estate agent at the little beach shack that had officially become ours the day before as all the monies were exchanged and escrow closed.

It had been a long 90-day escrow of emails and paperwork and forms to sign and having our house appraised and discussions with the mortgage broker and feeling like I had to strip naked financially to prove that we had the wherewithal to afford the little shack with "a view to live for."

The real estate agent gave us our keys, a few trinket gifts, hugged us goodbye and was gone. AND it was ours! We had no furniture and soon realized half the lights would not work (the next morning we realized a circuit breaker was tripped, so it was an easy fix).

Today we celebrate! This coming Thursday we'll head north again to enjoy November days at the little shack we now affectionately call "Hank's House." And now the house is being completely remodeled, so the only room available to us at the moment is the downstairs little guest room (everything at this house is little, except the view).

That's today's story.

Rosie (& Mr. Fun), aka Carol