We are now the proud owners of a house in Webster, NY, East of Rochester. According to New York State Tourism, we are in the Finger Lakes Region. The nearest Finger Lake is about an hour away. Lake Ontario is only about two miles away. I think it takes about seven minutes to get there. The closing went well in the sense that we paid the money and got the deed, but I don't like the way they do things up there. Everyone makes a concerted effort to see that the buyers and sellers never meet. The realtors claim that they can relay any questions between the parties. Yeah, sure. The sellers don't come to the walk through nor to the closing. The realtors don't even come to the closing. I was surprised that I wasn't told to just leave the check at the front desk and that they would mail the deed to us. I had some issues and questions and the sellers' paralegal said she didn't know if she could get in touch with them as they were in transit to Florida. That was the wrong thing to say to me. I told her that if she didn't get in touch with them I would be in transit back to New Jersey with my check. The burden is on the buyer to accept whatever conditions he finds or walk away. No one is at the closing who can answer any questions.
Anyway, we are happy with the house and we even met several neighbors who were very friendly and welcoming. Two couples were younger with children and one was a man who was retired and sixty one years old. Why do people care so much about age? I don't care how old he is. Anytime someone dies or gets their name in the paper there is a great need to tell how old the person was or is. Who cares? The only time age is important to me is when it comes to Scotch.
Yesterday I was Lawnmower Man. Today I was Pool Boy. We got the cover off the pool and I started on the chemical sequence. I went to Leslie's Pool Supplies to get the water tested. I made it in just in a nick of time because everyone else who wasn't driving to the shore came in right after. Tomorrow I have to clean the chairs, tables and grill in preparation for Sunday's Memorial Day parade past our house and our picnic. I thought that last year was going to be our last picnic here. I guess not. I hope this one is. As you can see, there is no rest for the wicked.
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