That Yogi Berra was a Genius

It ain't over, till it's over. And it's finally over. That's the only positive thing I can say.

The sale on our house fell through. I won't bore you with the details, but if you are trying to sell your house, I can say with absolute certainty that there are worse things than not having anyone interested. You could have the wrong people interested. I would absolutely positively have preferred to have no one even look at the house for two months than go through what we went through these last two weeks. Awful. Bleh.

But we moved on. My mom always told me that the best thing to do when you are overwhelmed is just to do something. Anything. But get busy with something. So Mark and I got busy over the weekend working out our budget. After some very creative thinking, we came to the conclusion that although it will be tight, we can still make the down payment on the house in Indiana, and we can afford two house payments. Won't be fun for a while, but it will be OK.

Friends are saying "you'll find another buyer." Problem is, I am in no hurry to get the house back on the market. I'm like a girl that just got out of a terrible relationship and has sworn off men for a while. We may just look into renting it out, which was going to be a last resort if it didn't sell, and now seems like a decent proposition. Who knows.

This I do know: God is still bigger than I am. God is still bigger than my wildest imagination. And even though I'm more than a little buffaloed by this most recent turn of events, I am still counting my blessings, and I still believe deep down that it is all happening for a reason. That's why we call it faith, isn't it?

If These Walls Could Talk

I know from the bizarre experience of some friends that in any home sale, it ain’t over till it’s over (they had four – count ‘em FOUR deals fall through). So I’m still not 100% convinced that this is a go. But it looks like it’s a go. Every day that passes, we get closer to a go. We are now 2 weeks from a go.

Yes, dear readers, we sold our house.

I know, I know. In this market? Apparently, yes. The realtor came out on Tuesday, January 4. The web listing went up on Thursday. She showed the house on Friday night, and we got an offer on Saturday. Negotiating started and was long and at times, painful, but we sealed the post-inspection deal last Monday. A few things still concern me, like the fact that the SOLD sign won’t stay on, and the guy coming out to do the termite/septic inspection had a heart attack on the way over, but I’m really trying not to see these incidents as foreshadowing of any kind. I’m finally letting myself believe that this is a go.

And before I move on in my post, let me say to all of you….which is pretty much everyone on the planet….all of you who gave us that look when said we were moving. Who got that really sad look in their eye and said “So….what about your house? What are you going to do about that?” All those to whom we replied, cheerfully, “Sell it!” To all those who said “You know…the market isn’t good right now.” All those to whom I wanted to say “Really? Really? It’s a bad market? Where are you getting this intel? Because this is the first I’VE heard of this slow market. NO ONE has mentioned this before.” To all of you naysayers, all I can say is……God is bigger than the real estate market. When God says go, you’re going. It’ll work out. If Jonah had to sell a house before going to Ninevah, it would have sold.

Now back to my post….

Selling a house is a strange thing. Very much like having siblings. We complained and moaned about things for years…..the kitchen is too small, the deck needs an overhauling, etc., etc. But let someone else come in and mention shortcomings in your house…..some STRANGERs….and brother, it is ON. I am so ready for a new house, but I was very surprised by my emotional reaction to criticism of the old one.

Houses are quirky, just like the people who live in them. The door to our bathroom doesn’t shut all the way. I actually laughed when I explained to the realtor how to get into the attic (it involves a chair, a hammer, and preferably protective goggles.) These aren’t problems for us anymore – it’s just the way the house is. It’s part of its personality.

We broke ground on the house while Mark and I were on our honeymoon. We spent hours staining and sealing all of the wood trim and doors by hand. I vividly remember Mark’s dad giving me handfuls of insulation and showing me how to stuff it around all the windows. It seems like yesterday that we picked out paint and furniture for two different nurseries for two very different little boys. Those little boys are not so very little any more, but I look up the staircase and see their little sleepy-eyed, footed-PJ selves sitting on the top step waiting to see what Santa brought. I can’t look at the fireplace without remembering the sound of Daniel’s head cracking wide open against it. Or look at the living room window without picturing a golf ball flying through it.

I’ve learned that a house isn’t just a house. It is an extension of the family that lives there. It’s a treasure trove of memories – good and bad – that make up the patchwork of our lives. It’s a member of the family.

I don’t know how many of you read Anita Shreve – some of her books are better than others, but for the most part, she’s a keeper. She has one very unique aspect to several of her books: they are all set in the same house. Different characters, different storylines, different times in history. But the same house.

The story of our house will continue without us in it. I hope that the new owners have as many chapters as we did, if not more. I hope that their story is happy and funny and adventurous. I hope that they come to love the quirks and the squeaks as much as we do.

Leaving for school the other morning, Daniel and I were standing in the kitchen. I had just turned out the lights, and he was looking around. There was very little light through the windows, but we could still see. Out of the blue he said “I’m going to miss this house.”

Me too, little man. Me too.