So, me and the hubby are going to be in debt for the rest of our natural lives.

That's what happens when you promise to pay back more than you make in 10 years over the next 30, and you're both middle-aged to begin with . . . okay, he's middle-aged; I am young-challenged. Also, as my dear ol' Da points out correctly, he got his first home when he was 50, so my near infancy in comparison should not cause me undue angst.

It's all good, though. I mean, the house is wicked cool, and we're gonna have our own yard, our own eat-in kitchen, our own garage and even our own sauna (which is awful cute, almost like a closet, right in the master bedroom.)

It's exciting, but it's scary, too.

We'll have the inspections later this week, and finish signing all the things that need signing, and then, once the bank confirms that they own us for a long, long time, we'll sign more papers and then move in, maybe even by the end of the year.

Wish us luck!