Who knew buying a house would be so busy. I guess we did. It was a whirlwind. I look back to this past winter when we sat in our rental, the neighbor’s music pounding against our walls as he ran his stairs, I assume for excersise, or smoked whatever that was on the back patio, and we discussed how impossible a dream owning seemed. Houses in our area are ridiculously overpriced. No, really. 2 bedroom 1 bath homes built in the 50s selling for 200k or more. Lots and lots of duplexes and quads for sale that no one will finance without huge cash down. The style and locations we wanted all seemed to run in the 300k range. And the local bank was firm that it was 20% down or bust. We just didn’t think it would happen in the next five years.
I guess that things happened like they were supposed to. We started looking at very very tiny houses. A swathe of steel built boxes built to accommodate a growing population in the 70s, teeny things no more than 500-600 sq ft. We could do it, we thought. A fraction of the cost of the average home in our area. We called a realtor and on the day she informed us that three of the four we wanted to see were alread under contract, we found this little gem, too good to be true, priced heavenly. We put the offer in on our anniversary. By Mother’s Day we were in. It needs TLC. But as I sit here, listening to the quiet save the chirp of birds and rustle of a soft breeze through the aspens, I am home.
Bountiful Words, Beautiful World 