The Waiting

As of today, and after an additional 2 addendums by the seller's agent (mostly to make sure I understood that the ultimate sale was not in the control of her client, but was at the whim of the holder of the mortgage) we have now entered the waiting period. The papers, I am told, are now at the lender which holds the mortgage. And the average before hearing anything back on them is between 45 and 60 days.
All of which is cool with us. We're not in a big hurry.
I have concerns about the general economy, and sometimes I wonder if the terms will be anything like what we all discussed in 60 days. This doesn't really worry me too much; if things are much worse and the fundamentals of the sale are becoming more flawed, I don't have to go through with it, of course.
This is not a house I'm in love with, but it is a house and property that I feel we could work with and be relatively happy with. There is plenty of actual room, and according to the friend that owned it (nominally) , it is permitted by the county zoning folks for an additional 1600 ft of housing. Which could be another small house, an addition, a mobile home, etc. As strange as it sounds, that makes me feel better, because I always harbor the low-level notion that my children and Sig's family will somehow all end up out here. That used to be far-fetched, but it's not anymore. They'd have to sleep in trailers, of course, and there would be lots of disharmony but at least they'd have a roof over their head and food to eat.
I do find myself thinking about how various activities will fit in to the potential house, and pondering scenarios. A couple weeks ago I bought a few dozen canning jars with the odd notion that I was going to either go up to Apple Hill and buy bushels of apples or down to the Sacramento Farmer's market and buy bushels of whatever they have that's seasonal and can-able. I suspect it was more a subconscious reaction to this possible purchase of a rural house with acreage more than any burning need in the here and now. The Sig just started a batch of Cabernet Sauvignon which is currently fermenting, crushed skins and pulp included, in a new/clean 20 gallon plastic garbage bin with fitted lid. I think he started wanting to make this wine after talking to some vintners from the area of the house we're trying to buy, at a party.
The whole fermenting blob should yield about 5 gallons of actual wine, according to the Folsom Brewmeister. The wine should age for at least a year. In another month or so, we have to press the wine out of the skins, and Sig knocks the skins/pulp back down under the juice every day with a canoe paddle that he disinfects. We also have some strawberrry mead that is far from done aging.
If we end up being approved for this deal, we are going to have to move 10 gallons of fermenting beverages (which do not like to be sloshed around while still fermenting) about 40 miles. That's probably enough creative food preservation product to worry about. I don't think I'm going to be doing any canning to add to the mix. I do think it's amusing how we're each reacting to ideas that I'm sure were put into our minds by the possibility of moving onto a rural acreage across the road from a vinyard.