Hopefully holding our breath...

We are about to join the ranks of the folks who have two mortgages. It isn't our first choice. For two years, we've lived in this run-down farmhouse with a sinking bathroom floor, leaky roof, rocking toilet, and no clothes dryer that is an hour and fifteen minutes from my job with the idea that we would move only when the house in Versailles sells. That was our plan.

But giving up 2 1/2 hours a day in the truck, $600 a month in gas, and the farmhouse's limitations were getting taxing. We've not been able to have our wedding gifts (or chosen not to, really), because we've been waiting for a house where we could really enjoy them. Still, we've been waiting.

Then, last Sunday was a bad day. I got up in the morning, got my morning coffee, and was looking online at some houses in Smith's Grove (a hobby of mine), and I discovered that one of the houses that I had been eyeing for quite some time had the price dropped $20,000. Oddly, I was heartbroken. We've been talking about how we were going to take advantage of this buyer's market, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity. And suddenly, I was feeling incredibly overwhelmed by it all, really.

I strapped on my running shoes and went for a quick run, but my emotions were just boiling. I have to say that I was well-aware that I wasn't just reacting to the house that we wouldn't be able to get. I also kept thinking that it's really not bad. There are millions of people (literally) in the world who would be incredibly happy to be in our position--to have the opportunity to live in a house with a roof over their heads, jobs that pay well, a family next door, and the necessities--home, clothing, food. I know that because I work with people who don't have those things all the time. And I feel the weight of that knowledge when I get stressed about our situation. 

I stress about not having a house where family and friends can visit comfortably. I stress about not being able to sell that house in Versailles--it feels like I'm still paying penance for deciding to leave Culver and take that job. And I feel like life is on hold...has been on hold. Or at least, I know we've been choosing to put things on hold in a lot of ways. 

Monday morning. I started making phone calls. By Monday afternoon, I had information on the house with the dropped price. I had called our mortgage company to see if we might be able to get one and how much it would cost. I had made an appointment to see the house the next afternoon. I had talked with Kevin on the phone a hundred times. I felt like I had started to figure things out. 

Tuesday night, we went over to see the house. The weeds and grass around the house are grown up so tall that we could probably mow and bale it. But if you can wade through that and imagine the house without it, you can see the potential in the property. The front porch has room for our rocking chairs and a swing. The view is of a beautiful cow pasture across the road. 

The inside is another story. You have to get beyond the incredibly stupid DIY ideas that the previous homeowners tried to implement to see that there is potential there, too. There's damage to the floors--neglected problems with french doors and moisture. There's a doorway that was filled in that should have been left alone. There are the most hideous paint and wallpaper choices throughout the home. But what Kevin and I saw is a home..our own home. 

So we put in a bid, the bank counteroffered, we bid back, the bank counteroffered again, we bid back, and the bank accepted. Now, we're waiting for the home inspection. And we're so excited we're bursting at the seams! But holding our breath that the inspection doesn't reveal anything that we didn't already suspect was there or anything worse than what is there. Please keep your fingers crossed for us, as well.