Our search for our home continues. Even though we made an offer on the house we are not committed to it. We're just dating it. Dating it's representative. We don't really know the house. Not really.
If the bank approves the sale and after the inspection, we might get engaged.
We'll wait and see.
For now, we're seeing others.
It's a very open relationship.
Last night we actually spent time with four other houses. The house would laugh if she saw everything we saw. She would probably say things like, "My floor plan is better," or "You know you don't really want to work that hard doing yard work. Come back to me...You know you want me."
I think maybe she's a bit of a tramp. Just casting out her square footage like that. She's so arrogant with her air conditioning and great location. Don't even get her started on her man cave.
Anyway, the first house we looked at was in a nasty neighborhood and was in shockingly bad shape. Her wood floors were dry and damaged. This poor house needed a lot of TLC and money to get her looking smashing again.
House number two featured rhododendrons in the yard. More than five of them in the front yard. I despise rhododendrons, but I could look past that personality flaw if the home offered something more. It offered a painted GREEN ceiling which matched the green walls. It had black mold in the kitchen where the refrigerator use to sit. The washer and dry were neatly tucked into little alcoves on either side of the bathroom.
The third house we looked at featured its own jungle and caused Marisa the Marvelous to jump back inside when something moved in the bushes. The kitchen was the primary focus because you walked right into it from the front door. The kitchen itself needed a face lift and a tummy tuck. She needed a new fence and about seventy-two hours of hard labor in the yard. Somehow, she became our number two choice. Well, she became Beloved's number two. I think she requires too much plastic surgery and if anyone is going to have plastic surgery it's not going to be the house!
I'm just sayin'
House number four butted right up against the freeway. White noise, isn't that what they call it? It permeated every nook and cranny of that strange house. I dubbed it the house of hallways. You could walk from the kitchen through a bedroom into a bathroom that led to another hallway and bathroom and bedroom and then back to the living room and kitchen area. Whew. The yard featured three huge pine trees. Huge.Pine.Trees. But it was the noise that killed it for me. That and the tiny, teeny, weeny living room. Seriously, my bedroom right now is larger than that room.
And thus the journey continues.
This weekend though, we've got a date with an angel. At least, that's what her online profile says. She's kind of an old girl, having been built in 1922. She's also petite, as in 850 sq ft small. But sometimes good things come in small packages. She's fenced. She's got a huge shop. She's comfortable, or so she claims.
I admit, we are a little smitten.
But we've also got to look at the 1910 farmhouse. She's a bustier girl featuring four bedrooms, two baths, and air conditioning.
And there are others. It's exciting and annoying and adventurous. But truthfully, I just want to move. I want to move into my own house and get on with it. It's like waiting to get married and I didn't like waiting for that either.