Selling a house with doggies

We’re trying to sell our house. Did I share that with you? It’s been crazy here, so I might have completely dropped the ball on that. Ahem! News! We’re trying to sell our house. Now, most people try to sell and then buy a new house. Not us. We went looking and found a house we liked and suddenly, wanted to sell our house.

Of course, the problem with our approach is that now we’re desperate to sell. Desperate because if we don’t sell, we lose the house we want.

In order to sell, we have to clean, clean and then clean again, we have to get rid of those quirky things we thought we’d use and haven’t and we have to fix everything that might be wrong with it.

This means we’ve hired a contractor to put a new shower in a bathroom, we’re painting floors and giving things away to anyone who so much as approaches the house.

As a child, moving meant new friends who didn’t know I was a complete geek. It meant we could eat out more. And it meant sneaking forbidden toys into moving boxes.

Now, I have explained we’re moving to our doggies, who seem completely relaxed with the entire idea. In fact, they seem a little too relaxed.

I might have to keep a closer eyes on our boxes.

The joys of house shopping

So, after a disastrous results on our taxes, hubby decided the way to avoid further fiscal nightmares was to move his private practice to our home and save on rent. Unfortunately, our home is not set up for a business, so…we’re now looking at selling and moving.

Finding our next home is a difficult task, mostly because we have very different opinions of what is a habitable environment. Two days ago, lovely hubby brought me to the middle of nowhere to see an ancient little school house on the verge of falling over. Never mind the smell as you walked in (a mix of cat urine and mold that made my eyes water) or the fact that the stairs had no railings and could be used to teach math angles, hubby was certain the place was a hidden gem.

Image result for old schoolhouse

While the resident cat caught and chewed an innocent mouse in front of our eyes and cockroaches held a picnic, I tried to convince him that the Adams Family wouldn’t live there and the place was surely about to be condemned. Undeterred, hubby followed the giggling realtor to the basement. I took one look at the dark, gaping hole that led to the basement and refused to enter the catacombs of the house.

Obviously, we have different views of what a living environment entails. After the school house nightmare, I was determined to show him my version of a living home and found a lovely house with a basement that was high above ground and could easily be converted into an office. Did I mention it had a fenced yard for the dogs and a lovely pool? Also, it came without rodents, bugs or blood-thirsty cats.

Image result for beautiful dog house

Hubby found a barn. Literally.

Image result for barn

The place had been restored and had a yoga studio at the bottom but there was no denying it was a barn. He was in love. I was more concerned with the tiny corner that was supposed to be our ‘ample living space’. I can ignore the tilted ceilings and the drawer-like space they claim was a closet but the kitchen/bathroom was a little much and the rooftop deck without railings was pretty dangerous.

The only thing that wasn’t small was the price tag. Apparently, barns are a wanted luxury because this number would make even Oprah’s eyebrows rise.

Obviously, this ridiculous situation is not over and you’ll definitely hear more about it. On a completely different topic, if anyone is looking for a slightly used school house, I know just the place.

 

Guide to buying a house

We’ve been looking for a home. We’ve read adds, checked out photographs and gone to see all kinds of houses. Big or little, they all had one thing in common. Reality and the adds were two different things.

For those out there trying to find a dwelling, I thought I’d provide a handy reference chart to decode what those tempting adds actually mean.

Add: “Quaint home.”

Reality: “Smaller than an outhouse. Possibly even smells worse.”

Tiny_house,_Portland

 

Add: “View of lake”

Reality: “If you’re a contortionist with binoculars, you might get to see the water.”

 

Add: “Custom made.”

Reality: “No right angles anywhere.”

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Add: “Motivated seller.”

Reality: “Owner wants to leave because of the murder that took place across the street and the brothel next door.”

 

Add: “Private.”

Reality: “Situated next to Alcatraz.”

Alcatraz_Island_photo_D_Ramey_Logan

 

Add: “Renovated from top to bottom.”

Reality: “Someone painted it. Once.”

 

Add: “Has personality.”

Reality: “It’s so small, originally it was a parking spot and never intended to be a dwelling.”

SkinnyHouseBoston2

 

 

Add: “Potential investment for growth.”

Reality: “Mike Holmes couldn’t fix it.”

house-falling-down

 

Add: “Has personality.”

Reality: “Too ugly for words.”

2009-0627-SpadenaWitch-house

Add: “As is.”

Reality: “Not even carpenter ants live in there.”

My hope is that with this handy reference guide, you’ll be able to find your forever home. If not, you can always move to Canada. We live in igloos.