( Should probably have spelled deux , do, because that certainly would be indicative of the next few years of our lives – do this, do that, do everything!)
Alrighty then, we left off with beginning the search for a new home cuz I’m betrothed now, and for sure can’t squish a husband and all his belongings into my little house. Oh the drama and trauma! I’m scared out of my wits to get married (even tho he is a fine, upstanding, peach of a fellow); I have to sell my sweet little “itty bitty” house; my car is starting to have some nagging issues so I have to sell it and get a different one right in the middle of all this; and I have to find a new house – and not just any house – it has to “feel” just right.
This is not a big town. I am not a rich girl. Homes for sale here were pretty limited at the time. But, one bonus, my Aunt is a realtor, and she took me to every single house in my price bracket in this County. Nada, zip, zilch. They were all awful. I am not a nit picker. I have good insight and can see past purple walls with lime green trim. If a house has strange decor but good bones, hey, I’m in. Mr. Bruce was a carpenter for quite a few years before he became a SOTA (student over traditional age), so I was pretty confident we could turn a place into whatever we needed ( oh, ignorance is bliss – I’ve since learned boyfriends do stuff pronto for their girlfriends, husbands do stuff when they get around to it 🙂 ). We looked high and low. Still nothing. Then one day, I went to work and my boss announced he had taken another job far, far away and was moving. I want to look at your house ASAP! He was happy to comply! I went over the next day, and even tho it wasn’t zactly what I was hoping for, it was a darn site closer than all those others I had seen in the months prior. Dang, I was settling, but the clock was ticking and had to get in gear. So I told him “sold”.
Meanwhile, I had been spreading the word about my little house being for sale. I wanted to sell it myself because it was important to me to be able to pick to whom it would go. I loved my dear elderly neighbors, and didn’t want some honyocks moving in, tearing up my good little house, and making life miserable for these people I held near to my heart.
Sure… why not add a little more stress to all the other stuff that was already going on!!! Great idea!! Ya, be your own realtor! Good one! (And, by the way, my realtor Aunt was thrilled with this decision – not!)
Well, as luck would have it, a girl I worked with was getting married the same month as me, and she wanted to come see my little house….. Well come on down!!! I believe my hand was nearly crippled by the time she came over a few days later because I’m sure I kept my fingers crossed for that entire time. She and her Dad covered every square inch of that little house with the most serious looks on their faces. I was a wreck. They stepped outside and conferred, came back in and told me she wanted it! YAY!!!
Okay, so somebody nice wants my little house, and I have found another house we can work with – good to go. Ya, right. Every weird nuance that could pop up does. Stuff gets all discombobulated – the girl I work with backs out (they decide they want acreage); another nice girl and her fiancé come look and they want it, YAY again; they want in in 2 months; my boss isn’t moving for 4 months; he won’t close earlier; the new couple doesn’t want my house if they can’t close in 2 months; my Folks say I can move in with them (God bless ’em) but what am I going to do with all my stuff? Can’t afford storage, need all my monies for closing. BRUCE WILL BUILD A GARAGE AT THE BOSS’S HOUSE!! All my stuff can then go in storage there and I can live with my folks. Wait, build a garage at a house we don’t own yet? (and borrow the money aside from the house to do so)..not a great idea. TIME TO GO TO THE LOONIE BIN!!! BOOK MY ROOM NOW, PLEASE!
So, a few days later (no immediate openings at the Loonie Bin,so I’ve got a little time to burn), I’m looking at the local newspaper, and I see this little tiny ad. There is a picture of a house for sale, in my price range, no address listed, and the strangest thing – I don’t remember ever seeing this house before in my life! Now remember, I was born in this town. In addition, I am a rummage sale aficionado supremo, could probably be the best taxi driver this town has ever seen as I was sure I knew every back alley/side street/any and all houses in this town. For real, don’t recall ever having seen the house in the picture. Smoke was coming off my heels I ran to the phone so fast to call my realtor Aunt. I’m sure she was convinced I needed an exorcism when she heard my voice – GET ME IN TO SEE THIS HOUSE, little teeny ad, paper, don’t know where, NEED TO SEE IT NOW!!!! She’s like “what????????”. So I calmed down, backed up, and told her what I had found. She said she’d call me right back, which she did, and we were to see the house the next morning. In all my exorcited state, I forgot to ask where it was. She called me in the morning, told me the address, and I hot footed it up there. So strange – even looking straight at the house, I didn’t recall ever having noticed it before. She turned the key,we walked in, and I was no more than 3 feet into the house, and I knew I was HOME 🙂
Holy Moses, is this a book or a blog?
Stay tuned for part trois (3 🙂 ), be there or be square.
TTFN (Ta Ta For Now)