Leave Well Enough Alone

When Josh and I began searching for a house, our realtor asked about our “must have’s.” Sure, the list included the basics (three bedrooms, two bathrooms, two-car garage) and some wishful thinking (wood burning fireplace, a patio with fire pit, a driveway that shovels itself). But above all, we both agreed:

“We want a house with character.”

When we uttered this phrase to Shelly (our realtor), we simply meant we wanted a house that didn’t look exactly like the one next door. We wanted a house that you could describe to friends and family when they came to visit without having to rely solely on the numbers affixed to the front. Things like “a big elm tree in the yard” or “the one with the archway and bright red door.”

Instead, we got this.

How I didn’t notice this the first two times at the house still escapes me. Like, I literally had to WALK ON TOP OF IT to get and out of the back door. At first I thought it was a secret window (so cool!) that maybe led to a hidden room or some other fun place we had overlooked on our prior visits. As I imagined the endless possibilities, our inspector violently burst my bubble by snorting,

“Oh that thing. Yeah, that’s for the well.”

Yes. A well. And not a cute wishing well with a bucket that you can lower down and get water (or, shout “Andie! You Goonie!,” whenever you want). Nope. This is what OUR well looks like.

(Ok, let’s all just agree right now that’s the creepiest looking thing ever. I mean, it’s straight out of a horror movie. Just shut off the lights, hear that slow drip, drip of water droplets and you KNOW bad things are coming up behind you. Anyway, back to the matter at hand).

The well was, at one time, the way the family that lived here got water. But now that the house is connected to the city sewer system, we need to cap (and likely) remove the well before moving in.

And that window? Surprisingly, it has a very important use. If the well backed up and started flooding your basement, you could run outside, break the glass and use that access point to pump the water out into the yard. Brilliance!

Even if we remove the well, I think we’ll keep the window on the steps. I mean, you can't argue that it adds character. And besides, it's always best to leave well enough alone.

Our Leap of Faith had a Bungee Cord Attached

When Ashley and I took the "leap of faith" and put down an offer on our house on Westwood, we knew this jump was going to be a little risky. There was a ton of work the house needed done (weeding anyone?), a contractor had to fix a lot on a tight budget, the 203k loan process was complicated and our freezer was running out of Ben & Jerry's S'mores Ice Cream due to pints of anxiety. Like the penguin below, we figured our leap of faith would consist of a splash, a couple swift maneuvers avoiding the jaws of seals and sharks and then a leisurely swim into the sunset, happy as can be. PSYCH!

Instead, some prankster penguin tied a bungee cord to our little penguin feet and our leap left us in perpetual limbo narrowly avoiding shark teeth as we bobbed up and down fearing absolute disaster for the last month. Thankfully, the bungee cord finally snapped and it appears that Ashley and I have avoided the last remaining obstacles and the little house of horrors on Westwood just might be ours after all!

For those who have been stuck in limbo with us as we've kept everything close to the vest, we apologize. Finally ... now that we've been given the thumbs up ... we can share with you the ups and downs of our house purchase.

July 18th: Our offer is accepted by the bank.

July 23rd: A contract is signed by both parties with a rather ominous warning by the bank's agent: "It is extra wise to be prepared for ANYTHING when purchasing bank-owned property."

July 25th: HUD Inspector Tom and Contractor Jim walk through the house and draft up a report of things that need to be fixed ... everything from gutting the basement to providing a stable base for our water heater (it's on wheels right now)!

July 27th: We have a structural engineer look at the cracked brick near the foundation of our tuck-under garage and it is determined the issue isn't a major impediment to us purchasing the home.

August 1st - 17th: Contractor Jim trots through an electrician, plumber, concrete guy and a few other specialists to determine the true extent of the work and what it will cost to complete. The required city repairs are going to eat up almost our entire budget and we won't be able to complete the kitchen remodel or master bathroom build.

August 20th: Contractor Jim has second thoughts on the project and determines that after the subcontractors complete their tasks and without a bathroom or kitchen project, there's just not enough money in it for him to make it worthwhile. He regrettably informs us that he quits.

August 20th: With our Realtor on vacation, we (mistakenly) decide to try to fix everything ourselves and set-up an emergency meeting with another contractor.

August 21st - 27th: Our new contractor meets with HUD Inspector Tom and is quite negative on the house. His bid is excessively expensive and we are crushed, thinking we have to walk away and forfeit our earnest money.

August 28th: Realtor Shelly returns from vacation and attempts to save the day by setting us up with a contractor she highly recommends. Contractor Lee quickly surveys the property, provides us with an estimate and restores our faith back in the house. Better yet, he thinks we can fit the master bathroom build back in the project!

September 3rd: In an attempt to give us a little more cushion, we make the bank aware of our situation and ask for a decrease in purchase price of $10,000 and a closing extension to October 25th.

September 8th: As we await the bank's decision, we finalize our work proposal and sign a mountain of documents.

September 10th: The bank refuses to give us an answer on either issue until we complete an appraisal of the property. They want to see if the "as is value" of the property is fair compared to the purchase price. Unsure of whether to risk even more money on this property, we decide to roll the dice and order the appraisal.

September 17th: The appraisal comes back and the as is value is basically identical to the purchase price. We won't be getting a further discount on the price, but are comforted by the fact the other comparable properties are impressive and will provide us solid future equity.

September 17th: Just when we think we're in the clear and FINALLY able to move this forward, we get a note from the bank stating, "The lender/owner is getting nervous and feels there has been too many red flags to grant an extension that far out." Myself and Mortgage Broker Dave frantically send letters imploring the bank to provide us with an extension because our file is rock solid now that we've gotten through the contractor hi-jinks.

Inside Josh and Ashley's brain:


September 18th: Ashley and I start devising methods of cruel and unusual punishment against the bank if they decide to screw us over at the 11th hour. We put in an order for 10,000 locusts to be delivered to Wells Fargo's corporate office.

Inside Josh and Ashley's brain:


September 18th: The bank decides in our favor and grants us the extension. We are in the clear and will be closing on or before October 25th! We contact the United States Postal Service and divert the aforementioned locusts to Comcast because, well ... everyone hates Comcast.

Inside Josh and Ashley's brain:


So that's the story of the last few weeks of our life. It's been emotional, nerve-wracking, stressful and frustrating. There are myriad awful things I'd rather do instead of go through that again. In fact, going to a Creed and Nickelback concert on the same night and shooting a bottle rocket from my butt both sound a lot more fun!

But like I said, the hard part of our loan process is over and the Williams on Westwood is back on!

Patience is a virtue...

Several people have asked about updates regarding the house situation and believe me, I want to tell you everything that's been going on (it's a lot, trust me). However, we have legal documents in the works and nothing has been finalized....yet.

We hope to have an update for everyone by the end of the week (fingers crossed). Thanks for your patience!

Gut Feelings

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Back in the summer of 2007, I’ll admit my life was, how do they say, “in transition.”  My job sucked, my sister was moving to Chicago, I was going to be homeless in thirty days and my boyfriend of nine months had just broken up with me. I did what any rational person would do: I got a cat.

On a warm June day, I marched into the Apple Valley PetSmart determined to walk out with a new furry friend. I wandered around the adoption section looking at all the cats that needed a home. All of them purred and playfully pawed at the children poking their stubby fingers into the cages, begging to be cuddled and played with. Everyone but this cat. Ginger.

 

She was white with ginger colored patches, a pretty pink nose and weighed all of nine pounds when wet. She also hissed, snarled and growled the second anybody approached her area, including her current foster owner. I crouched down and said hello in a soft sing-songy voice. She barred her teeth and hissed loudly back at me.  Then she curled up at the back of the cage and glared at me with her thinly slit eyes. 

I told the foster owner I’d take her. 

Upon seeing the white devil, Brooke and Jake implored me to reconsider. They begged me to keep looking. I smiled and said, “I know it sounds crazy, but I’ve just got this feeling about her.” And I decided to rename her “Gigi.”

She hissed the entire way to the car. We had to pull over several times to put her back in the cardboard box she so desperately tried to escape. That cat growled and made noises only a creature truly possessed by Satan himself could make.  I pretended not to hear Brooke and Jake discussing the return policy in the back seat.

Within ten minutes of being inside the apartment, she relaxed. The next day she sat next to me on the couch. By the end of the week, she was curled up on the bed with me while I read before sleeping.  

So, what does Gigi have to do with a house?

I tell people this story because I am a firm believer that God talks to me through my “gut feelings.” God understands I’m not easy to reason with and I have a tendency to steamroll our conversations. But, God has learned what DOES get my attention: my gut. It’s a knot in my stomach when I’m on the brink of making a bad decision like that belly button piercing with the dangling charms (still have the scar from when that ripped) or signing a lease on that one apartment and actually believing that air conditioning wasn’t a necessity.

It’s that happy flutter when I stumble upon something truly and supremely wonderful like the moment I met my husband or when I discovered Oreos dipped in peanut butter.  Truth is, I’ve never been led down the wrong path when I listened to my gut.

And I have a gut feeling about this house. I know that its laundry list of repairs and city code violations should have us walking away and looking for that nice house that everyone immediately loves. With yards that aren’t overgrown, a garage that isn’t buckling and a basement that doesn’t need to be gutted.

But the feeling I get when I look at this place is just like when I spotted Ms. Gigi. That she wasn’t a bad cat; she just needed the right person to see her potential.  

And who knows. Maybe the house feels the same way.