Andrew and I are kicking our house hunting into high gear for obvious reasons, one being that his grandmother and my mother were
There's no indication that I'm carrying twins, just to be clear, but then there's no indication of much at this point, except that I'm now an entire cup size larger. And I'm not supposed to go extreme water rafting.
Don't ask how I found that out.
Anyway, since there is little in the way of new real estate inventory, we've been driving around stalking For Sale By Owners, and have even taken to pulling the car alongside perfectly unsuspecting strangers and asking if they'd be interested in selling their homes. Or if their neighbors are interested in selling their homes. Or if their neighbors' neighbors are interested in selling their homes. Or maybe we can just pitch a tent on their porch and claim homestead?
I am with child and all.
Last weekend we were doing our usual For Sale By Owner circuit and I noticed a house that's been sitting on the market since before we moved to the area, almost two years ago. It had steadily dropped it's price around $150,000 during that time, but it recently dropped it another $50,000 more. I still wasn't sure if the numbers would work, but I thought we should go take a look at it anyway. Just to see.
We set up a showing, and from the moment we stepped inside we were in love. It was nothing like what we'd expected. The entire back of the house was glass that opened up to a lake. Six bedrooms. The most amazing studio. Beautiful materials and incredible views. Three year old roof. Private beach access. It was unbelievable, really. We were blown away.
And the owners. They were sooo nice. They were sooo nice. Like, the kind of people you want to invite to dinner and have cigars with nice.
Right then I was almost sorry we'd seen it, because, you know, it cost a bazillion gazillion dollars, and we're like a trillion gazillion short. But that's when they said, "Oh, and by the way, we just dropped the price another $100,000." And we were like, yeah, we saw you had another big price drop, and they were all, "No, ANOTHER, $100,000." Shut up.
A couple of hours later we wrote up an As Is offer.
It was still $60,000-ish off of their asking price, so when they called us the next evening to let us know they were accepting it without even countering we were stunned. And ecstatic. We were having the week of our lives! We hit the ground running, and by the morning I had inspections lined up, contractor meetings planned, insurance quotes on their way, and all of our paperwork ready for our lender.
I love where we live now, but I couldn't wait to move.
The inspections came back.
That roof? The one that was three years old? Was actually six years old and leaking. EVERYWHERE. So badly that it had begun rotting away the sheathing. There was staining all over the place, with the worst parts being around the chimney, the last place I'd ever want to battle with a leaky roof. It was apparent that at least one person was aware of the situation, because someone had tried to cover the ceiling stains with white spray paint. Which isn't very nice.
But that wasn't all.
The house failed the Wood Destroying Organism report. Not just failed it, but failed it miserably. As in, the entire bottom four feet of the exterior would need to be removed and entirely replaced. That's a motherload of wood rot for a house that was built in the eighties.
The thing is, alone these repairs only add up to around $15,000. Not enough money or work to scare me away, and the seller even offered to take care of it or credit us. The problem for me is that these are major red flags for a relatively young home. And there is a better than not chance that we'd end up rebuilding the entire structure. Or finding black mold lining the walls. Or be replacing a $50,000 six year old roof.
In the end, we walked. Actually, we ran.
It stinks, but it's better than the alternative. So, it's back to the drawing board.
In other news, I made the painful decision to man up and take photos of the growing tadpole. These are three and six weeks of progress, which is mostly bloat. Allison, who asked for them, squealed for five minutes straight after I told her the pregnancy news, finishing with, "You're going to get so fat, and it's going to be AWESOME."
I love best friends.
Anyway, here's a shot for those of you who prefer, you know, clothes.
That's it for now. Let me know if you have a beach house you want to sell for ten bucks.