Sometime
after the first of the year, 'for sale' signs appeared on the fence
of the property across the street from the country house. It's an
old auto body shop that did little business. For the 4 years we have
lived here we would see him there occasionally but mostly he was
retired and then he died.
We
were a little concerned since rumor had it that there was a guy
interested who wanted to use it to store stuff. 'Junk it up', I
believe was the expression the neighbor used. And another guy
interested who wanted to put trailers on it and rent them out.
Neither option was something we wanted across the street.
We
toyed with the idea of buying it if it was still on the market by
summer.
But
then the decision by my daughter and her husband to sell their house
this year gained momentum and they were feeling us out about selling
too and well, I've covered all that.
Anyway,
about the time that we decided we would, albeit reluctantly, put the
city property on the market with them and with the knowledge that we would
have to subsequently move the shop, that property became very appealing.
One
Sunday, mid-March, I stood on our driveway gazing at it across the street and I felt with certainty that this was the place,
we should do it, but we were closing in on finishing the fabrication
we had in the shop in Houston and were leaving the next day.
So,
last month, finished with the work and with the time to consider
other things and learning that the price had been reduced, Marc
called the realtor and expressed an interest only to be told that it
had sold the day before.
My
heart just sank.
The
following week when the widow came to mow, Marc talked to her and
told her that if the guy couldn't get financing, that we would be
very interested. And a week later than that, last Saturday, he
called the realtor again to tell her we wanted our offer on the table
in case the contract fell through. And got her voice mail.
I
could just not let it go. I tore off a scrap of paper, wrote down
the address with a note that this was 'our new shop', and put it in
my wallet.
Yesterday
mid-morning, the phone rang. It was the realtor and the guy had just
backed out of the deal and did we still want it and when could we get there?
By
noon we were sitting in the realtor's office signing papers. We
close next Wednesday.
Talking
with the realtor, there had been several contracts tendered that the
widow had rejected and a couple more out there wanting to offer a
contract, none of which bode well for the adjacent neighbors, us
included.
Once
we returned home, we were sort of shell shocked. It was like we were
propelled into this big decision. But it felt right, still feels
right. We got it for a good price and it's on an acre and a half and
it's right across the street.
I
see solar panels on the roof, a big raised garden, fruit trees, maybe
a labyrinth of flower beds.
I
mention the acre and a half because when we were looking to get out
of the city, I wanted about two acres but the house and property we
both liked was only a half acre. Which, believe me, has turned out
to be plenty to take care of, but now I feel like it's complete.
I
have a lot less anxiety now about putting the city property on the
market since we have a place to move the shop. Still have to figure
out the logistics of getting and delivering glass, but that's doable.