signed, sealed, delivered

Yesterday, after almost exactly two years of considering, dreaming, actively searching, deciding,….and lots and lots of bureaucracy, the final papers were signed.

After we met at the lot to hammer in the first stakes and plot the land, just a few hours later we (the two owners of the land, the one owner of the building volume plus his geometra, Julian, myself and our geometra) crowded around a table at the office of the notaio to finalize the agreement.

We’d met here before in February to begin the first part of the contract so it was a bit of a reunion. This time we listened as the entire multi-page contract was read aloud word for word. At some points we had to physically and audible acknowledge we understood, and other times we confirmed our personal information to be entered. All a bit official, under the fluorescent lights of a legal office.

However, each line that went by I could feel it getting closer, settling in a bit more. And as we were just about to conclude, Julian went to the car to grab a chilled bottle of a lovely franciacorta I’d bought for this very occasion. Not sure if it was something very off-color to do in this official setting, he checked with the secretary who excitedly just wanted to know if we needed any glasses! He walked back in and the notaio quickly just told him to come in and that we could open it there, and everyone laughed and decided we could use the aperitivo! As I popped open the cork, everyone applauded! I wasn’t sure if they were clapping for the wine, the skillful-opening of the cork, for me, or for us all. I like to think it was for all of us getting through this ordeal (which required a deal of trust of all parties, some of which the notaio wasn’t too comfortable with in legal terms, but trust in which we all felt we had), and to the future of new neighborly relationships.

So I poured out 9 glasses (including the notaio and her assistant), we all cheered, cin-cin-ed, and salute-ed. There was nothing luxurious about this moment or glamorous about this legal setting, but I felt like it was one of those pivotal moments in my life, and I happily smiled under the brightly lit, fluorescent bulbs.

ps: Julian kept the cork for me and gave it to me afterwards saying I should put it into the foundation when it’s poured as good luck. I like this idea.