Several of you caught on (rather quickly) to my thinly-veiled confession of being a one-family freak show.
Yes, we are considering moving.
I know we just moved here and you don't have to remind me, there's still tupperware that has never been unpacked.It's just that we found another house...
These aren't my images, I pulled them from the estate agent's site (shhh, don't tell).It's been said that a military member's best place to live is the one they've just left or the one they're heading to. We are living proof.
When we moved to England, I just wanted a British cottage-style house. We found one that charmed us. O.k., the garden charmed ME (and since no one's happy if Momma ain't happy, the Hubby quickly agreed that a home with one bathtub for 7 people would suffice if Momma liked the garden).
When we met with the Landlord, 6 people tumbled out of our car. One had a red mohawk and another was hugely pregnant. I can't even imagine the first impression we gave that poor man.
As he walked us through his cottage, he kept saying it would be too small for us.
I can take a hint.
He kept going on about another property he had, but knowing he would do the, "I'll ring you about it later"-while-he-disappeared-forever ploy, I politely nodded and tried not to show my disappointment.
However, as we tried to shoe horn our family back into the car, he explained,
"If you'll follow me, I can show it to you. It's just up the road."
So we followed
and our jaws fell open.
Of course we said, "We'll take it!" without stepping inside (we did see it later after making an appointment with the current renters who were preparing a move).Long story cut not as short as some would like, it fell through when the renter's home purchase fell through. They had to renew their lease. I was gutted.
The house hunting was left to the Hubby while his cranky, pregnant wife sweltered in the temporary living facility on base.
The house we ended up getting was gorgeous. We had great landlords and a wonderful time, but I spent the first year morning "the house" (as did the oldest son and my husband). We loved where we were living, but it was a Spanish style, sprawling place. I never could make it "home".
Then we found this place.
Right smack next to the boys' school. It was about half the size of what we were living in, but we were smitten and 2 weeks after spotting it, we were in it.I'm thinking it's a sickness. This house should've satisfied us for the next two years. I should never have gone onto Estate agents sites.
I found my current flavor of the month playing around on the internet. For giggles we went to see it (please don't lecture me about wasting someone's time, it will fall on deaf ears).
One step into the kitchen, I wanted it.
Not necessarily the kitchen, but the lifestyle.The house is from the 1840s, and the owners have decorated it farmhouse style. See the hops hanging from the beams?
We came home, ran through the "pros and cons" and then reluctantly, sadly, dejectedly rang the agent.
"We loved the house. We would be thrilled to live in it, but the timing isn't right. Even though our lease is coming up on the 6 month renewal, financially we'd need to wait until after Christmas".
Know what she said?
She didn't say, "You no-good Americans out wasting people's time! You have a serious problem, you know that? You must shop around for houses like other people shop for boots!"
Nope. She said,"Oh... well that may just work out perfect! The owner was hoping to wait until January to move out!"
So,
We haven't signed anything. We're waiting to speak again with the owner and to have another look through with our real eyes on, and then....
I may ultimately be moving to here:
Still want to come over for a visit? There's plenty of room in mental institutions.
