I've been house hunting for a couple of months now. I know that in the grand scheme of things that's hardly any length of time at all, but it feels like forever.
Possibly it's the impending deadline of our rental house lease being up at the beginning of December breathing down my neck, but I'd hoped we'd have found somewhere by now. I had pictured it all in my head- find a house by the beginning of October, move in by December.
A few weeks ago I thought I'd found the perfect place- decent enough looking, great location, few minor things that needed to be fixed, but it had a lot of character. Luckily we managed to get hold of the building report from the last time the house had been sold, a year or so ago (it's not what you know, it's who you know!) which made it clear that the house was basically falling down and would require more money than I could ever afford to make it safe and liveable. Typical of me, really, to find a house like that and like it.
Still, I wasn't broken hearted, just dejected. Week after week we'd view houses, and none of them were the right ones. And I began to realise that there was a difference between my Dream Forever House and my Dream For-A-While House. So I started to reconsider my Must-haves list.
Two months ago I started out with this list:
Must have:
Three double bedrooms
Modern kitchen and bathroom
OSP
Reasonably sized garden (not less than 400sqm total)
Be in a certain area of the city
Would prefer, but not deal breaker:
Open plan kitchen/dining/living
Second toilet
Easy care garden
And now, I've found a house that ticks some of my Must Haves (location, OSP, garden size and ease) but fails to meet them for the kitchen and room size. And yet I love it. I adore it. I could immediately picture us living there and it's all I've thought of since.
The house has two double bedrooms and one single, but they have built in wardrobes. It has a decent sized lounge, and an open plan kitchen and dining room, leading into an adorable little conservatory. It has a separate laundry (you have to go outside to get to it) with a second toilet, and an even more separate office/workspace. The garden is a postage stamp, but adorable. The decor is older than I am. And there are cracks in the walls and ceiling that I'd have to fix. At least one section of the roof needs replacing asap.
And yet. I'm in love with it. I can imagine curling up in the conservatory reading a book. I can imagine what the bedrooms would look like with our furniture and painted up the way I like. It could be amazing. It could be home.
I had a feeling, as the weekend approached that this would be it- that one of the houses I'd planned to see this weekend would be The One. I suspected it would be house A, the one I've fallen in love with, which had just gone on the market on Friday, or house B, a house that had been on the market for awhile but had dropped 10k in price. House A was the last place we looked at yesterday. But to make sure it was the one, we went to look at a couple more today- one was lovely and well done up but didn't entrance me the way house A did (or at least, not in a way that wasn't related to the light fixtures which I've taken photos of as they would look amazing in house A. And house B was just...not right. I walked in and thought 'meh, whatever'.
And to me, that's made it clear that house A is the right one.
Which means, on Tuesday (since today is a Bank Holiday) I have to:
Arrange a second viewing
Talk to my mortgage advisor at the bank
Hire a solicitor
All so I can:
Make an offer on a house.
I feel a bit sick just typing that. Like that feeling you have at the top of a theme park ride, before you drop twenty storeys.
Fingers crossed this is all going to work out!
Possibly it's the impending deadline of our rental house lease being up at the beginning of December breathing down my neck, but I'd hoped we'd have found somewhere by now. I had pictured it all in my head- find a house by the beginning of October, move in by December.
A few weeks ago I thought I'd found the perfect place- decent enough looking, great location, few minor things that needed to be fixed, but it had a lot of character. Luckily we managed to get hold of the building report from the last time the house had been sold, a year or so ago (it's not what you know, it's who you know!) which made it clear that the house was basically falling down and would require more money than I could ever afford to make it safe and liveable. Typical of me, really, to find a house like that and like it.
Still, I wasn't broken hearted, just dejected. Week after week we'd view houses, and none of them were the right ones. And I began to realise that there was a difference between my Dream Forever House and my Dream For-A-While House. So I started to reconsider my Must-haves list.
Two months ago I started out with this list:
Must have:
Three double bedrooms
Modern kitchen and bathroom
OSP
Reasonably sized garden (not less than 400sqm total)
Be in a certain area of the city
Would prefer, but not deal breaker:
Open plan kitchen/dining/living
Second toilet
Easy care garden
And now, I've found a house that ticks some of my Must Haves (location, OSP, garden size and ease) but fails to meet them for the kitchen and room size. And yet I love it. I adore it. I could immediately picture us living there and it's all I've thought of since.
The house has two double bedrooms and one single, but they have built in wardrobes. It has a decent sized lounge, and an open plan kitchen and dining room, leading into an adorable little conservatory. It has a separate laundry (you have to go outside to get to it) with a second toilet, and an even more separate office/workspace. The garden is a postage stamp, but adorable. The decor is older than I am. And there are cracks in the walls and ceiling that I'd have to fix. At least one section of the roof needs replacing asap.
And yet. I'm in love with it. I can imagine curling up in the conservatory reading a book. I can imagine what the bedrooms would look like with our furniture and painted up the way I like. It could be amazing. It could be home.
I had a feeling, as the weekend approached that this would be it- that one of the houses I'd planned to see this weekend would be The One. I suspected it would be house A, the one I've fallen in love with, which had just gone on the market on Friday, or house B, a house that had been on the market for awhile but had dropped 10k in price. House A was the last place we looked at yesterday. But to make sure it was the one, we went to look at a couple more today- one was lovely and well done up but didn't entrance me the way house A did (or at least, not in a way that wasn't related to the light fixtures which I've taken photos of as they would look amazing in house A. And house B was just...not right. I walked in and thought 'meh, whatever'.
And to me, that's made it clear that house A is the right one.
Which means, on Tuesday (since today is a Bank Holiday) I have to:
Arrange a second viewing
Talk to my mortgage advisor at the bank
Hire a solicitor
All so I can:
Make an offer on a house.
I feel a bit sick just typing that. Like that feeling you have at the top of a theme park ride, before you drop twenty storeys.
Fingers crossed this is all going to work out!
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