Home sweet mudhole

The realtor sign is going up in the yard today. I ran off copies of our sales brochure and stuck them in all of our neighbors' mailboxes, but so far they haven't all scrambled over at once with their checkbooks. We're getting a lot of new traffic, though, because they're rebuilding a semi-major thoroughfare a block away; this should further increase our visability. The growing traffic has brought with it some people who like to go 50 miles an hour up our quaint residential street. When convenient, say, when I'm out in front stretching for a run, or messing around with the landscaping, I've taken to shouting things at these people. The city tells me they don't have any signs that read "Slow Down Jackass, so a couple of weeks ago I had them erect some new "Children Playing" signage, which of course didn't do any good. The shouting seems to work slightly better. Anyway, Marci tells me that now that people have a legitimate reason for driving by and looking at the house, I need to refrain from shouting and giving dirty looks.

We've gotten word through Marci's brother (who lives close to where our condo is being built) that there's still just a mudhole where the condo is supposed to be. About a month ago, we heard that they were just about ready to pour the foundation. Originally, the target time for completion was "September," which meant the 1st of the month to me, and probably meant mid-october to the builders. Classes start for Marci on August 28th, so we've been pricing extended-stay places near her university, for what I assume will be an upcoming 'homeless' period for us. I think she should consider joining a sorority and just living in the campus house. She could be the only Delta Zeta with a full-time job, 7 months pregnant, married, and in her 30s. I envision our own version of "Old School." Just replace Will Ferrell running in the middle of the street post-frat party with a drunk, laughing, naked pregnant woman.