A couple of months ago, Steve and I found what we thought was a perfect house. Unfortunately, we waited too long to make an offer and we lost out. Since that time, we’ve been working on cleaning up our house and making plans to get some small remodeling projects done to make our house more attractive in a sluggish market. I really didn’t think we’d be moving. Really. Then Steve stumbled on a house last Saturday that intrigued us both. I called our friend and agent, Mike, and told him we wanted to see it. We went over Sunday night and the wheels started rolling. I loved so many things about it, but was still holding back because I was scared of the market, of selling our house for what we needed, of moving, of, well, everything. We thought about it. Then we talked about it. We went back and took pictures and talked some more.
Now we’re making an offer and our house will have a “for sale” sign in the yard next week.
I’m trying to be realistic knowing that the market is so soft and we might not get what we need for this one to make all the ends meet. We don’t have a cushion for this, so it might all fall through but it feels so right. When I think about the house and where things would go, it all seems effortless. When I think about the lifestyle Steve and I have and how much we love to entertain I can actually see the parties unfolding. I even have a space for my studio which is crucial in a move. Still, I must keep my emotions in check because if we lose this it’s not the end of the world. I do love my little bungalow and will stay here for another year or so if this isn’t right. But, I’ll be disappointed and yes, a little pissed.