the feeling of falling in love

So. Yesterday I decided to take a little break from the frenzy house-mind. I was needing some calm. I relaxed into the faith of knowing house isn't about greed, or lust, or an idea about how people will see you in it. It's about home. It's about potential, ideas, creativity, dreams. It's about places in the heart, about community, about closeness.

I spent the morning at my dear friend's baby shower. There was talk about the heart, about home, about finding room for new love. I drove home feeling good, relaxed, at ease. And first thing in the door, I hopped on mls... just to see, you know?

And I saw.

I saw it, and I knew.

A new listing. A tiny, beautiful cottage. The one I am dreaming of. With character. With a nice backyard. In the backyard is a tiny outbuilding that has been converted to an office. It's not insulated, and doesn't have a bathroom (yet), but it has promise. I could practice there, maybe, or make art. A great neighborhood, a safe haven.

How I got to making an offer is a long tale, and I am far too emotionally amped right now to go into all of it. Suffice to say, there was a long night with my realtor at my kitchen table, writing up quite an attractive offer.

Still no word. There are other showings today, and I am fearful of losing something I don't even have. All I have is hope at this point. Hope, and a feeling of rightness.

Last night was nearly sleepless, there could be several days of waiting and wondering. I will post more details as my emotions allow. It is painful at this moment, this waiting, the hope, something very fragile and precious teetering a precarious balance, the outcome of which is beyond my control. Please, if you happen upon this post, even if you don't know me, say a small prayer. Thank you.

today's power tour

Today I looked at 12 houses with my patient realtor and my rockstar friend B. I may or may not have found one. Indecision, my longtime companion, came along for the ride with us as we whisked through houses with varying degrees of success.

This one, to the left, is not a winner: gigantic crack in the foundation.











This one is not a winner, either. Can you guess why? "Recent remodel."
















This one needs at least $50,000 of work to be safe and tenable. What does it need, you ask?
*rewiring
*oil tank excavation (the bad kind)
*heating conversion from oil to gas
*entire kitchen remodel
*new floor in bathroom
*interior and exterior paint
Major project. It's got a really weird floorplan, but really good potential. Someone needs to love it and bring it back. I'm actually considering it... but only vaguely.

But, well, this one... this one is pretty gemmy. Down and dirty 'hood, sweet sweet sweet interior. It smells badly of floor varnish inside, and after 10 minutes I began to feel nauseated. So, I'm looking into that. But my golly, it is a cute house. And I went back later on to patrol the neighborhood for unsavories and pit bulls, and met a very sweet neighbor named Jules, who is just as dolly as the house is.

I'm exhausted.

I shouldn't be thinking about this any more today.

But I am.

the first real rush

My friend B sent this photo to me today. This note was hanging in one of the houses on the Street of Eames tour here in Portland last weekend. And after what's gone on with the house thing over the last few days, this nugget came as a welcome reminder.

On Sunday, I went with my agent to see a house that was perfect. Perfect. Within my price range, the ultimate ideal floor plan for myself and my business, completely remodeled at a very high quality. It was almost too perfect. Someone had made an offer that day, and we weren't sure if it had been accepted. I was too terrified to make a move. TERRIFIED. So I waited. The house remained an active listing on mls. I drove by yesterday, and they were having an open house. I went in again, called my realtor, and told her I wanted to make an offer.

All day long, I was freaking out. Yes I do, no I don't. Yes, yes, I do. It's the one. Emotional turmoil. Anxiety. My realtor called the listing agent and discovered that indeed, the previous offer had been accepted. The listing agent was using the house to get publicity for themselves, and not telling visitors of the open house that it had indeed been spoken for. Sneaky, tacky, bad karma. I felt a brief moment of relief when I learned all of this, but it was followed by a nearly sleepless night. I can't get that place out of my head.

But it wasn't the perfect house, or it would have all happened. Even if only the timing was wrong, it was wrong. I didn't know enough to jump when I should have, I just didn't know.

If I had it to do over again, I'd have made an offer on Sunday night. Lesson learned.

And lesson #2 (hard to take, being miss naive that I am): this is a dirty, dirty business.

I'm really going to try to make it fun, and let it happen in my own time. That's where I am today.

My realtor told me, when I apologized for freaking out so much, "You're not freaking out! You're living your life with passion. Embrace it!" Thank god for that lady.

a peek into my inner world

So today, I'm freaking out a little. Tax time, quarterlies due. Work slow. Can I, should I, even be thinking about house hunting? Shouldn't I just stay at this little hideout I'm renting forever? I don't deserve a house of my own, not really. Houses are for other people, people with steady incomes and calm demeanors. Those people deserve houses, not me. And isn't it sort of like I'm giving up, doing this alone? Maybe I should wait until I meet some Prince Charming and then he can buy me a house. Because, really, I don't know anything about how to do this. Someone else could do it better. I'll probably do it all wrong and live in rueful regret for the rest of my life. Or lose it and end up living in a cardboard box. That would be easier, maybe, than all of this insanity. I should wait, prices might come down. But maybe they'll go up. Or the rates will change. Or the economy will come crumbling down forever. But maybe if that happens, I should at least have a house to live in. Should I move to China? I hear things are better over there.

Today is not the day to make an offer.

the list, and when to stray

What do you want from your house? Do you want space for a garden, or an urban condo? A basement where your punk band can practice? An old bungalow, or new construction?

If you're like most people, you probably won't end up with everything you're dreaming of. The utopian eden you're imagining might elude your grasp, and your budget. But I believe that an open mind goes a long way, and your imagination does, too. And also, there are things you may want that you don't actually need. Have you noticed that sometimes less is more, though? It really is. And things we may nitpick in the beginning often fade into the background. Like for instance, the house I currently live in has a really weird bathroom sink, so I brush my teeth in the kitchen. And the top rim of the kitchen sink sits at about mid-thigh level, so when I brush my teeth or wash my dishes, I have to hunch over as though I've got severe kyphosis. I don't even think about that stuff anymore, though (well, not too much). I've gotten the hell over it.

I have a list, but it changes all the time. I've got a feeling that the list won't really matter when I find the house that seems like home. The home will show up, and it will fit me, and I will fit it, and it will work.

Still, lists are fun. And necessary, in some ways. If you don't know the basics of what you're looking for, there may be so many choices that the hunt will overwhelm you. Maybe there is some really particular thing you absolutely MUST have... like good water pressure in the shower. My friend S listed this as the top qualification in potential properties as she and her husband hunted down their current house. You're allowed to have some quirks.

So because they're fun, and since I'm into daydreaming, and since I've got a few minutes, I'll write my own fantasy list:

Early 1900's, small, well-built wooden house (preferably craftsman)
Off-street parking
Insulation
Garage for possible studio conversion for my practice... eventually
2-3 bedrooms
1200-1700 square feet
Good light
Walkable neighborhood, near an off-leash dog park and a coffee shop, close-in
Kind, relatively quiet neighbors
Wood floors
Solid plumbing and electrical systems
Washer and Dryer hookups
Character and potential
Bathtub
No tacky, cheap, flip-style recent remodels
No electric baseboard heating

That's it. The dream list.