We took pictures of our finalist houses while we were looking, in case we needed to compare them later. I didn't, really; the house we're getting stood out. But I liked some of the "people shots" in them.

Here's Anna Belle, our realtor, looking appropriately realtor-esque.

Our Ceej, in the basement of our third choice house (which left the list of possibilities because of some wiring weirdness).

This was one of the facial expressions of mine that amused us looking at these pictures. We were joking about having a Mrissa Mood-O-Meter from house hunting pictures.

This was one of the final straws in removing this house from the "finalists" list to the "no ----ing way" list: there were wild turkeys in the backyard. The house had other things wrong with it, but -- wild turkeys. Backyard. No, no, and also no.

I don't mind telling you, I'm a colossal wimp when it comes to largeish birds. Turkeys are a no. Geese are right out. A duck is pretty much my upper limit. I'm also okay with herons and egrets as long as they keep their distance. If they start poking around near me...no. They and I should occupy entirely different spheres. (It's the beaks, is what it is.)

I feel like this a lot these days. But it's all worth it, because we're going home.