"That one's on fire!"
Well, it's been a long time since I last posted to this, which really doesn't matter since I'm fairly certain there are maybe three people who read it anyway...
In the intervening time, two significant things have occurred: The semester ended, and R and I may have bought a house. I'll tackle these in order.
The semester ending is always a mixed bag for me, emotionally. I get the greatest reward from my job through teaching and interaction with the students, so the semester ending is always like a sort of sad farewell for me. On the other hand, it frees me from the constant stress of preparing lectures and grading assignments.
This year was particularly difficult, because I had the same group of students in class that I had my first year teaching, so we already knew each other and had a good rapport. They were (are) a terrific group of students, and I am very happy to have had the opportunity to have them in class twice. I went out and had a couple of beers with them after their final (everyone is of age, for those of you who are worried), and probably 2/3 of them all came over to my place for a brunch the weekend after the final - which was a great time. In any case, half of this group will be graduating next year, and I will miss them a great deal. I guess that 'firsts' always stick in your mind, and my first class will definitely stick in mine.
Speaking of other 'firsts', R and I currently have a successful bid in on a house in the suburbs, not too much further from where we live now. We had the home inspection on Saturday...
I really would like to meet the person who thought home inspections were a good idea. I mean, I know, intellectually, that they are an excellent idea and that they serve to identify potentially major problems for the buyer, but from an emotional standpoint, they are absolutely the worst idea possible.
The home inspector's job, it would seem, is to walk through the home and tell you, the potential buyer, who presumably likes the place enough to pony up major dough for it, every possible thing that could ever go wrong with the place. I mean, you read the report (ours is 41 pages, by the way), and you would think that this place should be condemned, not purchased as a place to live.
What's more, is that there really isn't any filter. The inspector doesn't want to get his/her ass sued off, so they tell you everything that is wrong with the place. Some things could potentially fail tomorrow, or 10 years from now. So, it seems like a big crapshoot, guessing what the 'important' items are to address.
In any case, after reading the report thoroughly, we decided a lot of it seemed like the standard boilerplate stuff that could be wrong with any home, and focused in on a couple of major things. So I guess we're moving forward...
In the intervening time, two significant things have occurred: The semester ended, and R and I may have bought a house. I'll tackle these in order.
The semester ending is always a mixed bag for me, emotionally. I get the greatest reward from my job through teaching and interaction with the students, so the semester ending is always like a sort of sad farewell for me. On the other hand, it frees me from the constant stress of preparing lectures and grading assignments.
This year was particularly difficult, because I had the same group of students in class that I had my first year teaching, so we already knew each other and had a good rapport. They were (are) a terrific group of students, and I am very happy to have had the opportunity to have them in class twice. I went out and had a couple of beers with them after their final (everyone is of age, for those of you who are worried), and probably 2/3 of them all came over to my place for a brunch the weekend after the final - which was a great time. In any case, half of this group will be graduating next year, and I will miss them a great deal. I guess that 'firsts' always stick in your mind, and my first class will definitely stick in mine.
Speaking of other 'firsts', R and I currently have a successful bid in on a house in the suburbs, not too much further from where we live now. We had the home inspection on Saturday...
I really would like to meet the person who thought home inspections were a good idea. I mean, I know, intellectually, that they are an excellent idea and that they serve to identify potentially major problems for the buyer, but from an emotional standpoint, they are absolutely the worst idea possible.
The home inspector's job, it would seem, is to walk through the home and tell you, the potential buyer, who presumably likes the place enough to pony up major dough for it, every possible thing that could ever go wrong with the place. I mean, you read the report (ours is 41 pages, by the way), and you would think that this place should be condemned, not purchased as a place to live.
What's more, is that there really isn't any filter. The inspector doesn't want to get his/her ass sued off, so they tell you everything that is wrong with the place. Some things could potentially fail tomorrow, or 10 years from now. So, it seems like a big crapshoot, guessing what the 'important' items are to address.
In any case, after reading the report thoroughly, we decided a lot of it seemed like the standard boilerplate stuff that could be wrong with any home, and focused in on a couple of major things. So I guess we're moving forward...
posted by Professor B at 9:29 AM
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