that as gorgeous as it is, that's not my lifestyle.

I've been thinking about precisely this! Lots of the things I like are totally not conducive to a child. And, frankly, now I make choices based on appropriate for kid vs. desire of mom. Which I guess is one of the things that parenthood is about.

Which reminds me of this Billy Collins poem. I've never appreciated my mother more than I have this year. Or I should say I never really understood the sacrifices she made for me and what a deep well of love she has for us.

I'm on chapter 3 of The Ultimate Guide to Pregnancy for Lesbians and I'm not even scared yet!

The reality of homes like that is that they are gorgeous, and utterly unsuitable for life with a toddler.

Well, those aren't so much the houses I'd like to buy now as the ones I'd love to think I'll someday be able to afford but probably won't.

I think why I lust so strongly after the older houses on Queen Anne Hill is that when I lived in Philly, I rented houses of about the same vintage that had once been fine single family homes that had turned into cheap, shabby student housing for Penn and Drexel. So they were banged up and abused, but you'd look at the woodwork, the moldings, the hearths, and so on, and think how absolutely beautiful they'd be with a good remodel and proper care. I used to dream of buying one and fixing it up, back when I thought I was going to live in Philly forever. And whenever I visit friends from church who live in houses like that (though I haven't seen any quite so very posh as the two linked above), I think, "This is the kind of place I always wanted to live." But it's not going to happen.

Sigh. All this is making me think of the house that I really, really wish I could have--my grandparents' house, the house my dad and aunt grew up in, which in the early '50s could be had in Oakland, within walking distance of Lake Merritt, on a neighborhood grocer's salary.

Three bedrooms upstairs, nice gently sloped and carpeted, very kid-safe stairway down to the formal dining room and living room and big, feast-preparation-worthy kitchen--and a huge, huge basement/rumpus room, full of toys and boxes of old magazines and trunks of old books (one of my grandparents' friends was either a publisher or a reviewer, and kept passing them masses and masses of reading materials; I remember finding everything from old Mad magazines to a Yiddish-English dictionary to a Reader's Digest from the '30s with a cover article by an American Quaker who had just gathered up her family and moved back home from Germany, with her report of the troubling things she had started to see in her neighborhood and local government), plus a full working bar (soda pop only, but actual neighborhood pub-sized). And front and back yards.

Perfect combination of spaces for grown-ups and kids and neutral in-between everyone on their best behavior rooms. I don't know what its current value is, but I'm pretty certain that if my grandparents were alive now they could barely afford to drive past it, much less get out and look. And anything even a tenth of that is so far out of our range--even if we were both employed and debt-free--it's ridiculous.

Yes, Seattle, the Bay Area envies you your housing prices.

I can't believe I disturbed ita!?!

There was an article in the paper a couple of months ago about a young-ish couple that bought a house. They both had pretty good salaries and they got the "get an ARM, you can refinance in a few years" thing, and they figured they deserved a nice house, so they bought a really nice house. No down payment, so they had money - they furnished the house and fixed it up. Took some nice vacations. Bought a pedigreed puppy and hired a dogwalker. The wife got pregnant and went on maternity leave. And then the whole thing hit. oops. So now they can't refinance, they're trying to make the payments on one salary, they're looking at the rates going WAY up in a couple of years.

The response wasn't terribly sympathetic; MY response isn't very sympathetic.

No reason it should be. But just like the people who are conned with dropped wallet short con, where they think they are keeping someone else's lost money, the con person, whoever qualified them for that mortgage should not get away with it either.

I'm just so glad that I bought when I did. The prices will have to dip really quite a bit before my house is worth less than the mortgage.

:: dutifully knocks wood ::

The song Emily was trying to think of is "Saved" by LaVerne Baker. I should know, I included it in my Buffista Frankenmix a few years ago now.

I can't believe I disturbed ita!?!

You ate a puppy. Raw. I have limits.

I have nothing useful to contribute to the mortgage discussion. I haven't taken the housing plunge yet and am grateful that none of my friends have been caught in the crunch.

I do have an uncomfortable question to ask the hivemind.

It's about an equal employment opportunity complaint being put forth by one of my former clients. She called me to ask if I would be comfortable making a statement about her state of mind while she was on this particular job.

The short answer is no. The reason we stopped working together is that she did not agree with my assessment of her options for dealing with the situation and pretty much refused to take any personal responsibility. She knew that I knew her complaints were specious, so there was no point in going forward.

I can't fault her for asking. I'm sure her attorney considers it sop to ask for statements from people like me.

The problem I'm having is framing my response in a way that does not put me on the side of the enemy and also acknowledges that I would do her no good.

Any thoughts?

I should know, I included it in my Buffista Frankenmix a few years ago now.

I knew I should've known it from somewhere more specific than the land of Huh, That Sounds Vaguely Familiar!