The first time I laid eyes on her, I knew she had to be mine……Well, that’s not entirely true. We walked into the front door that first day and the smell hit me immediately. My aunt’s house had burned down about a month before and so I knew the smell all too well. Upon walking in, we noticed that the fireplace had somehow, at one point, gotten out of control. The black smudge permeated up the brick onto the once cheery yellow paint and up the ceiling. The carpet was nice, newer, but need a good deep cleaning. Everything was yellow. Or blue. Such a nice color combination back in 1990, when the house was built. The stair case broke the one room in to two large rooms. The master bedroom, all alone downstairs, while the other three bedrooms congregated upstairs. The yellow walls of the master bedroom had a large steep to them and the windows were covered with heavy, depressing drapes, in, you guessed it, blue. The master bathroom suite was spacious and blue. Blue tile lined the walls, the counter tops, and the bathtub insert. Two broad medicine cabinets adorned the walls over the sink, a magnifying makeup mirror jutting out from one of them. Brass was everywhere. The kitchen was a great shape, in need of a lot of love. The garden window showed promise, and that was about it. Even the grout between the tiles was blue. The vinyl flooring was stained and torn. The appliances were old and beaten up. The mudroom was a great addition, and not too common here in Clovis, CA. Upstairs housed a small “hobby room” as the ad was calling it. It was basically a large walk in closet off of the hallway, with nothing in it but a window overlooking the front door space. Weird, but okay. The large bedroom upstairs had odd sloped ceilings, mismatched lighting, bowing shelves, and a teeny tiny closet. It also had this weird gnome door to the attic. Too small for anyone, or anything to fit through. This would have to be our master bedroom so that we could be upstairs with my son. More yellow walls and blue tiles. I forgot to mention the shell pink tiles in the half bath downstairs. There was dry rot and then we got word of a termite infestation. Yikes. The backyard was huge with a spa and a lot of dead trees and plants. It had a huge deck, also sporting some dry rot. And it was a short sale. We had been warned about staying away from short sales. We left there and I had a lot of concerns. My husband saw the potential. I voiced my concerns, he came back with the potential.
So I thought about it that night. I thought about it a lot. In fact, I obsessed about it, as I tend to do about things. By morning, I knew I had to have that house, but I wanted to see it one more time. This time, we called our own real estate agent and he took us over there. Although I still had my concerns, we made an offer the very next day. A week later, our offer was accepted by the short sale attorney, and as of right now, we are awaiting news from the title company. But the listing agent has pulled the listing. So I consider this house mine.
Thank you for taking time to read my blog. I truly believe that with a little love and a lot of time, this house can be my dream home. This blog will help to follow this journey from sad, forlorn house with a dead yard and a lonely flag pole, to our family’s home; the home my son leaves for college, the home our grandchildren will play in. Thank you for taking this journey with us.