Okay. So some time ago I mentioned I was packing and moving and you probably thought all that had happened already. Wrong. I haven’t posted about it in all the detail until now for a couple of reasons. One, because heck, it is probably going to be boring as heck to anyone who isn’t me, two, it has nothing to do with writing (except it does because our environment affects our writing whether we want it to or not, and three, because I had to be careful what I said and when. My blog is public and I very rarely make anything friends only because I figure, if I don’t want the rest of the world to read about it, I’ve got no business putting it in my blog. So here’s the edited version…

Currently we live in a rental house. Back in the fall the property manager told us that the owners were very likely going to want to sell in the spring and she wanted to give us a heads-up about it. It was a good thing. We had been thinking about buying a place in the near future and this sort of kick-started us on the journey. She said that she figured to be able to give us 90 day notice in January. So we started looking at houses, got pre-approved, began to pack the 6,000 books, etc, etc, etc.

We looked at a ton of houses but none that we fell in love with and felt like we had to make an offer on at once. After all, we had plenty of time. (This would be where you cue up the movie music, you know, the kind that warns the viewer that something horrible is going to happen and there is no way to let the person it is going to happen to know what is coming.) Still we were getting a good idea of what was available and what it would cost to buy in areas we wanted to live in. It wasn’t that there weren’t a lot of homes for sale. There were. People were still on a selling high. But we were firm on what we were willing to spend and picky about what we were going to spend it on. We knew there would be trade offs. Right now we live in a nice neighborhood (as far as people, safety,etc) and have a huge yard (compared to Silicon Valley basic neighborhoods) But we also live 3 houses from the sound wall of the freeway and in all the time we’ve lived here, even with double-pane windows, I’ve never gotten used to the noise. We found a lot of houses that would have been fine had we the money to do a fixer upper, or if we were in our 20s and just starting out and just wanted to buy something to live in for a few years and then move again. But I’m not 20 something or 30 something (and way too close to the end of 40 something) and I didn’t want to move again. On top of that, we had books. Lots and lots of books. And we currently have a 27 foot long living room that is wall-to-wall books. Most people looking to buy have to think about what school their kids would go to. For us it was the question of where would we put the books?

Christmas came and all was well. Then we got our official notice to vacate but instead of it being a 90 day notice it was a 30 day notice. (this is where the story is severely edited….grumble grumble….we’ve been in this house for almost 3 years, perfect renters, etc, etc, etc.) They offered to sell us the house. We said no. (Money can fix everything in the house but it can’t move the freeway.) Oh, and did I mention that while all this has been going on my husband has been traveling M-F home only on the weekends?

Much of my recent stress has centered around that blankety blank notice. So we went back out looking again. Only after Christmas there wasn’t as much inventory available. 30 days turned into 25. Then 20. (Sleep? Why no, I haven’t had much of that these past few months.)

But there was this one house. We had looked at it when we first went looking and then it went off the market. But now, here in January with so little inventory, it came back on the market again. And we went back to see it again. And again. It needs work but nothing right away (okay, there is the little issue with the electrical stuff but really, almost nothing.) It’s big. (probably too big for just the two of us but we don’t care.)

We decided to make an offer and set up a meeting with our agent. An hour before the meeting the phone rings. It’s the property manager. The owners of the house we rent had changed their mind and rescinded the 30 day notice. Suddenly we didn’t have to move.

Insane. That is the only word for it. Do we stay in the rental and hope to find a better house? (Scary thing to do considering the books and all and the fact that the house was halfway packed.)  Do we make an offer and hope it is accepted? (and what do we do if people outbid us?) Do we run away to the mountains and live in a cave? (Only slightly kidding on the last one. It was the potential lack of Internet that has kept us in town.)

Knowing that the owners of the house we were living in could change their mind again at any time, we went ahead and made the offer.

So did someone else.

We countered.

And then things really got interesting (sorry, that part of the story will not be shared) but thanks to our marvelous, wonderful, fabulous agent, we won. We got the house. And in the land of crazy, where people are still paying several hundred thousands of dollars OVER the asking price, we got it at the price we were willing to pay and still slightly under the listed price. The max, but still, that’s okay. We bought a house. We close in 3 weeks and we move into it a month from Saturday.

Whew! Now I can YAHOO!!! and go back to packing up those 6,000 books.