As a kind forewarning, many of the adventures you will read about will or have taken place at SistahSledge’s homestead. As previously mentioned she inhabits approximately 4 acres of this earth. It’s a great set up – some house and some land which fosters our antics. Unlike SistahSledge I have yet to plant my stakes.
The pursuit began about a year ago, visited my favorite realtor (and only realtor I know) and we set up listings. So within minutes I get barraged with emails that say all these things in this special realtor language I don’t understand. For example - you would think 1.5 bathrooms means one and a half bathrooms. False! In special realtor speak that means one full bathroom and five half baths (1.5 isn’t common, you see 1.1, 2.0 etc. – I’m waiting for the day I get 0.0, I feel it’s close). So the listings are set up, I have decided of a few towns that I think will provide some good options and I’m off.
About six months later, after I deciphered realtor language, went to some open houses, and spent countless hours driving/riding my bike around to look at houses – I decided it was time to re engage my realtor and actual start to schedule appointments and look at these potential homes. Why I didn’t do this sooner – good question. Looking at homes provides hours of endless entertainment and makes you realize your “messy” living conditions are far cleaner and less repulsive than you could’ve imagined.
In the heaping handful of structures I’ve looked at – I’ve seen some quirky things. The first house I ever looked at was this putrid mustardy yellow. I walk through the kitchen (where the counters weren’t attached to the walls) and was interrupting dinner of the elderly woman and her son who apparently lived there. Awkward party of 4!
That initial experience left me hungry for more. So accordingly the showings continued. One house had a dog the size of a grizzly bear, who I considered adopting without the homeowners permission (more affectionately known as stealing). That house actually had U shaped floors due to some terrible Tim Allen home renovations. Another house had so much oil leaking out of the furnace I considered siphoning it up and dumping it back in their tank. That house had a clothes line that went from their front window to the tree in the front yard. Because nothing says “Welcome!” like some underbrithces hanging out front.
In short – the quest continues. It’s a challenging equation – find something within my price range with a good (relatively dry) chunk of land and a house that won’t fall over or blow up. Eventually I'll find something, and in the mean time am provided with cheap entertainment with my saint of a real estate agent.
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