Part Three, finding my place.

Part Three (sorry, not the last.)

As I sit here at my dining room table and watch the skittish wild  turkeys trying to decide if they dare come close to the house or if they should flee at my presence,  I acknowledge that you all know the end to this story.  It must be in the making of the end where the interest lies.  I will go forward in that respect. 

It seems like it was a lot longer than the months between August and October that this transpired, but it really did only take about four weeks to find our place. 

We had some ambivalence while trying to find our new home.  We didn’t want to call attention to our move until we had the effectual bird in the hand.  Neither did we want to own two homes at once. We couldn’t see how we could make a clean getaway if we listed first and sold right away and had nowhere to go. 

We prepared our existing home to list for sale while we were searching for a new one.  We looked in to rental companies, lease option contracts and how our budget could survive a few months with two house payments. 

We fasted and prayed for direction.  Knowing we were about to turn our lives upside down, possibly more so for the kids than for Steven and I, was hard to swallow.  We wanted to make sure we were making the right decision.

One Sunday afternoon, Steven and I drove up Hobble Creek canyon to admire the mountain scenery. We found ourselves near a small older neighborhood and decided to take a spin through the single loop drive.

At the back of the loop we saw a house that we could only describe as a dream come true.  It was a modular cabin looking affair on an expansive green lawn, framed with tall trees, and it had a creek running along the back of the property.  It was a for sale by owner deal so we jotted down the phone number and drove down the canyon to where we could get cell service and call.

We called the owner and the house was at the anxious top of our price range but we still agreed to meet with him the next Wednesday. 

I’m not sure why I’m telling you so much about this house.  We loved it, and it would have been a fine home for our family.  However, after two attempts at making offers on the place, we felt we just couldn’t go as high as the owner was asking.  We took a rest from trying. 

In the meantime, Steven was on a business trip to California, or Colorado, I can’t remember where, but he was gone.   Either I had found a home online, or our dear neighbor and friend Realtor extraordinaire, Alan Lew called and apprised me of the new listing. It was actually an older listing that had gone under contract and failed so it was being relisted at a lower price. 

I had seen the home earlier but had never pursued it.  The price had been too high and I couldn’t see how we could afford it. 

Within I’m sure under an hour, I had Alan following me twenty miles away to see the new place. 

The showing was a bit unusual.  Usually the owner leaves when a buyer comes to see a home.  At this one, the sweet older lady, who I soon found out was mother to my sibling’s friends out in Spring Lake, answered the door…and didn’t appear to have any intention of leaving. 

We greeted each other and she showed us in to the home.  I took three steps into the entryway and I knew I had found my place.  There was clutter and outdated paint and fixtures.  The kitchen and dining area had old formica counter tops and an atrocious chandelier, but what I saw was a high vaulted ceiling with giant picture windows displaying the massive bowl of Payson Canyon and all its foothills. 

What I saw was the beautifully finished downstairs apartment where our married children could live while they attend school. 

What I saw was a quaint front living room that invited guests to stay and chat. 

What I saw was a grove of oak trees, ready to be trimmed into a grove for children to play among. 

I was sure I had finally found the place I had been searching for for seven years. 

I had to be satisfied I wasn’t making a rash decision so I went home and arranged for my two daughters to come look at three homes in the surrounding area and get their feedback. 

The next day the girls and I bolted through one house in Woodland Hills that had no apartment but a kind of a bar downstairs for the kids.  It was the nicest, newly remodeled of the three.  

Then on to a nice farm house closer to the middle of the tiny community.  It had many bedrooms, a big apartment for the kids, a smaller yard, and a lot of work to be done.  It also lacked a view. 

The girls were excited about everything we had seen so far.  I was beginning to worry that we would never make a decision. 

Then we pulled in to the driveway of our place.   As we entered the home, the girls saw past the clutter and the golden doorknobs and they saw it too. 

They squealed at the apartment, and hugged the hot tub. They wrinkled their noses at the outdated kitchen, then they flitted from room to room already bantering over who got to sleep where.

  On the way home, their energetic chatter confirmed my feelings.  We had found our place. 

So I went home, walked across the street to Alan Lew’s home office, and signed an offer for the house. 

Not long after, Alan said the offer was accepted with revisions. We looked over the revisions, signed off, and I signed the contract.

Then I texted Steven:  “We just bought a house.” 

This feels like the end of the post.  There is more to be told.  I suppose that since this is my blog, I can easily edit out that it would be only two entries to cover my life events since my April 2014 post.  So, if you are still interested, I will continue tomorrow.  All are welcome to follow along.