Almost three years ago my wife and I bought the house in which we had been renting an apartment for the previous two and half decades. The amount of paperwork for financing and physical inspections as a prelude to purchase still causes my check-writing hand to spasm.
In the end, we wound up with a three-story house that we love (as well we should and in light of the mortgage had better, very much) with all the sidewalk I could possibly manage to snow blow clear in the winter and enough lawn to keep me mowing until I myself am under the grass.
I think of us as fortunate, especially when compared to The Weavers in Skippack, Pennsylvania, whom, I suspected have stopped using jam on their breakfast toast for something a little closer to home, literally.
-bill kenny
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