Light at the End

      At the beginning of this home-buying process my husband and I made up a list of things that were important, our "must-haves".  Things like lot size, number of bedrooms, number of bathrooms, square footage, parking, yaddah yaddah yaddah.  We were looking for a 3 bedroom, 2 bath house around 1000-1200 square feet on a lot over half an acre somewhere on the outskirts of town.  And, oh, almost forgot the most important part -price tag- we were thinking of spending around 75-80k.
     
       After the last joyous ride on the short sale-O-coaster (and with the end of our lease rushing to meet us) our realtor made the executive decision to screw short sales and foreclosures and look some regular sales.  A difficult task in this real estate market.  After sorting through the 130 properties in the area within our price range we narrowed it down to 3 that met some of our "wants" and were regular sales.
     The first was a Sears and Roebuck kit house that was built in 1946, 4 bedroom, 1 bath on almost half and acre and listed at 109k.  I had high hopes for this one because the public records and online pictures indicated that it had been flipped.  And it had been flipped, kind of.  It was like one of those pancakes that catches the edge of the pan so that one side gets folded under and on the other side batter oozes out unattractively.  The owners were contractors but not very good ones apparently or maybe they just ran out of funding.  It seemed like most of the renovation jobs were done part way but almost nothing was complete.  New kitchen cabinets but no toe-board, new windows but no window molding, new stairs but no banister/guardrail, new wood floors but they didn't have a finish on them. The yard was littered with screwdrivers, nails, hinges and other hodgepodge building supplies. Our impression was okay, we could definitely work with it but the unlevel floors and the cracks in the fireplace left us feeling pretty uneasy.
     The second house was built in 1924, 2 bedroom, 2 bath on 0.08 acres and listed at 95k.  Driving up we could see a neat little row of houses set across the street from a 55+ apartment complex.  Most of the homes had alley parking behind but the one we were looking at had its lot halved sometime in the past and therefore only afforded street parking.  The yard was tiny and pretty much just baked earth and a crazy overgrown bush taking up one side of the house.  There was a nice little porch populated by cheap plastic patio chairs but inside the place glistened with old world charm.  Huge windows, molding everywhere, in the formal dining room there was a dish rail all the way around on top of rich, dark wood paneling with a built-in dinette hutch in the corner.  The bedrooms were separated by a walk-through closet and a jack-and-jill bathroom.  The laundry room in the back was coupled with another washroom and downstairs in the cool recesses of the foundation a rec room and workshop were tucked away just for the vertically challenged.  Luckily, we fall into that category.  Anyone 5'10" or over might have had a problem or an aching head (or both).
        The third house was a 3 bedroom, 2 bath on 0.25 acres and listed at 110k.  It was the closest house to Adam's work (about 2 miles away) and the owners were also "flippers".  Freshly laid sod was being watered on the front lawn and we admired it as our realtor struggled with the lockbox.  Inside we found the place spacious and smelling of fresh beige paint.  One of the bedrooms had some beadboard, the master had hardwood floors and the his and hers closets were located in the bathroom (weird?).  The kitchen was large begging for an island. The backyard was still a blank slate, just dirt and a left over jungle gym.

       "So what will it be?" our realtor asked us. "House number one, two or three?"
My husband answered for both of us, "Number two was really nice."
       "Okay, then go home and think about it then give me a call."
He looked over at me expectantly and I said, "That won't be necessary.  We are ready, let's do this."


       After five months of house hunting, three failed offers and a few days of negotiation we think we have zeroed in on the house that will become our home.  Yeah, we had to give up some of our "must-haves", like pretty much all of them but so is life.  We learned along the way there were things we could live without; and now we might be living without them in a home of our very own.  I may be speaking too soon, I certainly do have a way of shooting myself in the foot but you know what?  Who frigging cares!  Today, I found out our offer has been accepted!  I am happy and I am shouting at the top of my freaking lungs!  The end is nigh! The end is nigh!  Pack the boxes and cage the cats we might be moving to a real home where we don't have to listen to our dumbass neighbors bullshit in drunk slurred voices until 4 am.  Yay!  I say.  Whoo-frikking-hoo!  Now, that could be the sleep deprivation talking, who knows.  All I know is that in a week we just might have a house and this hellish home-buying process just might be over.