SEVEN YEARS.  We (and by "we", I mean "the Wife and I") have been looking for a house for seven years.  And by "looking", I mean "watching the 'Real Estate Showcase' on the local cable system at 5 in the morning", "noticing where FOR SALE signs are posted and looking up the house on the Property Appraiser website", "watching HGTV all weekend long", and being on a realtor's mailing list for seven years (quite a collection of magnets, calendars, high school and university football schedules, and assorted knick-knacks, all with the stated or implied message: have you bought a house yet?"). 

We actually did put $1000 on a house in 2005.  Or, at least on the promise to have a house built to the builder's specs (more or less, not guaranteed), for a total of $140,000.  At the height of the housing bubble, and the roar of "you need to buy a house, like everyone else is doing".  Thank goodness we took the contract to a lawyer, who advised us to run away as fast as possible, and get the money back (ever try to get money back from a developer?  I've never pulled a rat out of the gullet of a snake, but I image the experience is the same).  Seven years later, we saw that the house across the street from "that lot", built identical to the one that we almost built, was for sale.  For $100,000.  And it was over-priced.  I've never seen so many houses where the yards had a slope towards the back of the property, because the septic tanks aren't low enough to create a flat back yard.  The quality in the house wasn't much better.  We owe that lawyer a thank-you card.

For most of these years, we have saved, paid bills, put ourselves in a better position to own a house, and watched as property values dropped by 40%.  And the knick-knacks kept coming, more frequently, pleading "won't you please buy a house?"  But 2012 became the right time to do it.  Yeah, interest rates are still low, property values have bottomed out, but something else finally pushed us over the edge: Section 8.  Our apartment owners finally became so desperate for tenants that he began to take Section 8 vouchers from tenants, and everything has slid downhill since.  Call me old-fashioned, but water that puddles up after a hard rain in a low point in the parking lot (along with pesticides and all of the other waste that gets washed away in a rainstorm) should not be considered an impromptu water park for children, no matter how many parents are supervising.  Dog owners that could walk their dog 300 feet to the edge of the nearby woods should not let their dogs evacuate in the grass next to a sidewalk (is the death penalty for the owners really too severe a punishment?  I think not).  Too many people knocking on our door, asking for cigarettes.  ADVICE: when the landlord accepts Section 8, it is time to move.  And get better door locks.

So here we are.  The realtor remembered us (how many other people have been on the mailing list for seven years?) and found the house.  And it was actually simple.  Pre-approved on a mortgage (makes life much easier).  Figured out what we must have (3/2 on at least 1/3 acre), what we wanted (washer/ dryer inside the house, no open floor plan, single story), and what the deal-breakers would be.  Which sounds simple enough, but that requires negotiations.  Not with the seller, but with the Wife (aka "the One That Must Be Obeyed").  I had to disappoint the OTMBO by telling her that I would not consider what she thought was "The One", because the perfect house had the washer/ dryer hookup in a utility room on the carport, outside the house and past the lanai (fancy way of saying "really small patio")

Once that is settled, the realtor provided a list of houses that fit the bill.  And we found The One,  that wasn't on her list.  I found it on trulia.com, April 30, 10 PM.  I had to wake up the Wife to show her, she said "that's nice, can I go back to sleep NOW?".  Two days later, we walked through the front door, she said "wow!" (not in a teenager, "we're going to go to Grandma's house" "wow" sort of way).  And the deal is (almost) done.  After the multiple inspections, record searches, faxes and financial disclosures, we are thisclose to the keys.  Just awaiting the closing.  Then 248 SW Justin Glen will be ours.

Like any other 35 year old house, there are things that need to be done that will make it our own.  Not like marking our territory like a dog, but paint, floor replacements, tree removal, and repairs to the barn-like shed.  Because the house is not ours yet, no photos at this time.  But I'll be keeping track of all of the trials and tribulations of home ownership, along with photographic evidence of the progress and / or regression.

Where are we?  If you did a little work searching on line, you can find the house.  So I won't ruin the search.  And if you know who we are, then you won't need to ask that, either.

Let the adventure begin.