Seriously. When I found out that this house that we really really really wanted had been sold, I cried buckets. I was probably more heartbroken than I would have been if someone had died (touch wood). I’ve written numerous times about how disheartening house-hunting had become. Until last night.
We found a house. It is in the area that we want to be in. It’s a freakin’ huge piece of land. Sure, the house on the land is tiny and there’s no pool and the garden is a veritable jungle disaster, but it’s do-able. It’s makeover-able. And we could probably get it for 300K less than the asking price.
We could make it ours. We totally could. Despite the fact that it needs a facelift, severe garden service and a pool, we could do it.
ORRRRRRRRRRRRRR………
We could go with the house that we originally wanted, that is no longer sold. Yup – the first (and ONLY) house that we’ve agreed on, is for sale again. The house that’s Cape Dutch style, pressed ceilings, stained glass windows, fireplace, scullery, pantry, Victorian bath – the house that basically ticks all the boxes. The only catch with this is that it’s about 400K more than the house above. The land is also smaller and there are only 2 bedrooms. The other house has 3. They’re both in the same area. Two streets apart.
AAAARGH.
So we’ve gone from NO HOUSE IN THE WORLD THAT PLEASES to SERIOUSLY, ZOMG WE HAVE TO CHOOSE NOW.
Eeeny meeny miny mo, anyone?
