As I was saying, the wife and I are buying a house – or at least attempting to do so. And as the purported closing date draws nearer and nearer I find myself less and less clear about the internal logic involved in this purchase. My current conundrum is wrapped up in this whole title search that the lawyers seem to be bandying back and forth among them. I gather, through my convoluted connections to the relevant information, that this has something to do with proving the present owners actually own
the property we are hoping to buy from them.
As a quick aside I feel compelled to note that this is usually the point in discussions of the house purchasing process that I – to borrow from Edith Wharton – begin to speak “with a tearful prodigality of italics.”
You see, I would have previously assumed
that this is the sort of thing to happen at the beginning
of the process – perhaps at the point that one walks into a realtor’s office wishing to sell
a home. Were I to be a realtor, I believe the first
questions I would ask someone in this situation would be, “Do you actually
own this property?” closely followed by, “Would you mind providing a bit of documentation, as that certainly would be helpful
in this whole selling of the house thing?”
Perhaps I am missing some facts of vital significance that render this line of thinking inappropriate. I could, quite conceivably, be right off of my rocker in even contemplating such possibilities, but, inevitably, I persist – not that it does me any good.
At the moment, somewhere in the ether or netherland between our lawyer and theirs float incomprehensible sets of data – though they seems to simply hang there and move no closer to resolution despite the almost daily nudges we attempt to perform. I suspect our nudges are merely ill-placed as we are not quite certain what, specifically, we are looking to move forward – seeing as we seem to be stuck on resolving that seemingly basic condition, that of whether the seller does, in fact, have the right to sell the house.
Hence, we seem to twiddle our thumbs a lot, pining away for the home we should have already occupied, wonder when, and sometimes if, we shall ever reside there. It also allows me that much needed time to ponder the potential intricacies of why realtors do not seem to ask the questions I would, thus leaving me all this spare time to ponder the spare time I seem to have.
On another note: following up our first golf outing, I offer you an update. Today nine holes were played with the greatly improved scores of fifty-four and eighty-two, respectively.