The house I was excited about smelled like cigarette
smoke. Our realtor smelled it, we smelled
it, we went outside for 5 minutes and came back in and smelled it even
stronger. Our realtor advised us that it
is really, really hard to get smoke-smell out.
It’s in every soft surface – walls, ceilings, rugs, etc. Strange thing, the owners don’t smoke.
If it hadn’t smelled like smoke, we might have put in an
offer. My husband said he was trying
really hard to be as excited about it as I was.
I LOVED the neighborhood – cute, wide, quiet streets, literally a 5
minute walk to a really cool playground – with bathrooms! A great straight-shot 15 minute commute for
him. And everyone gets a bedroom!
But… it really did smell like smoke - that acrid smell that hits
you when you enter a room.
That was Friday.
Monday we went to look at one I had seen at an open house back in
February. I remember walking in, being
unimpressed with the 4th bedroom (no carpet, small closet) and
thinking, this is a good house for people who want to see nature but not be
outside (the backyard is less than tiny, but it backs up to a green space). But this time, I walked in and thought –
doable, doable, all doable. Funny how
your real estate perspective can change in three months. The kids were excited – everyone gets their
own bedroom and they stay at the same school.
The husband was excited – our bedroom is gigantic and on the other side
of the house from the kids. And there is nothing better on the market at
this time. So, we put in an offer.
Inspection was Friday.
I give earnest money tomorrow.
Looks like a move is coming.
We are leaving our giant yard and giant garden. We are passing-on our chickens and re-homing
our big dog. The cats are coming with,
but there’s no guarantee that they will stick around. They may not adapt to the in-town life. We are down-sizing our outside-life. … and we’re all ok with it.
The funny thing is that it’s become trendy lately to buy
land out in the country and start a mini-farm.
Homesteading (#homestead) some are calling it. I have a friend who moved here last year from
the city. She and her husband and 3 kids
bought 20 acres in the country and moved.
They have cows, peacocks, chickens, goats, llamas, bees… and she loves it. A bit ironic that “outsiders” can afford to
start a farm in the neighborhood but those of us from the valley can’t. I guess that’s just the way it goes. If she can afford it and loves it, more power
to her. I will move into town and take a
few years off from the mini-farm life. A
Sabbath is good for everyone – even farmers. J
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