Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Guh. Or the house update.

That's pretty much the sound I've been making since the Hubs and I rolled up to our first of two open house showings this week.

The first open house we went to was about 45 minutes away from where we live now, out on the coast, by mountains and with amazing views. However, the negatives started stacking up quickly: too far for Harald to drive to work every day, bad roads, etc. The house itself I really liked, I could tell cool hippies lived there, so I felt right at home (that sounds comical, but really, they had rocks and crystals laying out everywhere, some canvas art of the Madonna on the walls and a massage studio. I pretty much could have moved long as someone would have stayed on to be my masseuse.) and loved the layout too...then Harald started reading through the contractor's evaluation that we were handed by the Realtor when we walked in.

Let's just sum that one up by saying that the cool hippies that lived there did a whole lot of renovations and work on the place themselves, and they weren't exactly professionals = new roof, mildewed basement, questionable foundations...


So while feeling a little bummed by the flop of the first house on the long ride home, we comforted ourselves with the notion that we were seeing what was sure to be a great house, much closer the next day, which was the showing we attended today...

It was even worse. The house itself was built around 1920, and was a neat, rustic place with wooden shutters on the edge of a forest and butting up against open pastures...that was until some particularly classy individuals (Harald's grandparents know the lady that lives there actually and she's got quite the rep for being a trashy alcoholic, so there you go.) decided to go and do some work on it was far from half-assed, succeeding in tearing up original aspects and replacing them with shoddy work and materials. The ceilings in the basement and the lofted floor were so low I felt claustophobic, and Harald could not stand upright, he had to walk around bent over at the waist. This house didn't even come with a contractor's report, since it is a bank foreclosure, so you take a HUGE gamble if you buy it because it has obvious issues, but you wouldn't be quite sure how bad and expensive they would be to correct until after it was too late...and after looking around, it didn't take a professional to see how much work would actually be needed before it would be safely inhabitable.

So as of the moment? I'm feeling really discouraged about the whole process. These two houses seemed great from the pictures online, and were well within our price range and I feel like I pushed to go to the showings, and at both places it was at least partially my fault that they were so horrible because I was the one leading the way.

Again, I know the right house will come along right when it's supposed to...but I can't help but feel like that will never happen!

We have one more open house showing we were planning on attending, that takes place on Monday in the evening, and even Harald is excited about this one. We've driven by it many times to take a  look and it looks really nice from the facade, and is only about ten minutes away from his parent's house, and right behind our church.

In the mean time, we'll just wait out until the next showing, keep on looking for more potential homes, and also be waiting on May to creep up closer so we can get back in contact with the building company we had been talking to about the plots out near Harald's workplace that we liked. Options are just floating around our heads right now, I feel like, it's just a matter of grabbing hold to the best one, and holding on for dear life...

I loathe transitional periods, and I'm hoping this will be the most epic one in our lives we have to deal with. I don't want us to leap at the first home or floor plan that is acceptable, just because we want our own place so badly, but at the same time, I'm not prepared to snub a perfectly good living situation just because it isn't our dream home. I don't feel like my expectations are too or unrealistically high, but this house search and process just seems to be getting more and more difficult and depressing.

A nice, peaceful coma would be nice right about now. Just a little nap, wake me up when I'm in my new home, everything is unpacked and put away, and it's been redecorated to my liking. Ok? Thanks.