Land, they ain't makin' any more of it!

Here's a big secret: we are 25 hours away from our contract expiring on our dream property. It has been a nail-biting experience with an uncertain outcome at best.  Excepting my mom, we have not really divulged this experience to anyone up until now.   I guess it's our mid-life crisis, but we got a bug to own land. You know, land, they're not making any more of it!   So this summer we put an offer in on a 30 acre agricultural estate, after three weeks of painful research regarding how to finance the beast.
What are we going to do with 30 acres? I have some crazy desire for horses.  I started calling around today to investigate how to turn 20 acres of corn into pasture.  My mom says, "But Jane, we aren't horse people."  Except she pronounces it "hoss" in her thick Boston accent.  The inner Jane knows better. I chose horseback riding as my "senior choice" every summer at camp.  I am vaguely aware that cantering on a horse a bit over my teen summers, um, like two decades ago, does not completely qualify me to own a horse farm.  I google "how to start a horse farm" and I am rewarded with a hit from Amazon for a book entitled "The Smart Woman's Guide to Midlife Horses." Uh oh.  Boy did they see me coming.   Damn Google.

Fortunately, I am not alone in this wild endeavor.  There are four children who have no idea what they are in for.  Then there's my husband.  My husband has a craving to be a Gentleman Rancher.  He comes back from South Dakota with Tony Llamas.  Though he confided in me tonight that he wants a horse that will trot- wait, he means walk; trotting might be a little much. And the horse does not have to be particularly large.  I chuckle and wrap my arms around him.  I did catch him drooling a little over the $50,000 in tractors sitting in the heated outdoor mancave during the home inspection.  He was trying to figure out what the tractors were exactly for. How about changing 20 acres from corn to pasture?
 Here I am cleaning the wood floors of our house, running over in my mind a million scenarios as the clock ticks down on the contingency to sell our house.  To heighten the drama, after nearly 50 days of 30 showings and no offers, someone came through and saw our house on the 27th of October and decided they liked it. They came back for a second showing on the 28th with their mom, and then requested a third showing tomorrow for their sibling. Just to make sure.  Let's hope they make an offer before they decide that their second cousin twice removed needs to see the house too. Meanwhile, two more calls for showings came in over the next 24 hours. When it rains, it pours. Will we get competing offers or be left high and dry?
Will the sellers of our dream estate extend our contract? Of course, my mom says. They have been trying to sell for three years, and we are the only people crazy enough to buy this albatross.
With an offer pending, my mind has been running away... What are we going to name our Green Acres?  (I like The Doctor's Inn, but I know my husband will think that's pretentious).    I am taking suggestions.  I like puns on words, Naval connotations, and so forth.  Some of my favorites include "Fortress of Paulitude" (except we aren't named Paul or Paula) and "Battlehouse Galactica." My husband suggested "The Yard."  My mom offered "Never Moving Again Manor." 

Stay tuned to find out if we get an offer in. Will we buy the farm?