It's been a while since I've posted an update. This is partially due to the stress and anger this situation has caused.
The closing date for our house has been put off FOUR times, all due to things not in our control. Our part in this is squared away, but there have been clerical errors, people not getting inspections done at the proper times, etc. Then, Friday the 18th, a bomb was dropped. Suddenly, an inspector said he did not like the way the foundation was done on the house (it was built in the early 1900's) and he wanted repairs done before we would be allowed to buy it. This would be at the cost of the seller, and he won't hear of it. I was devastated. We've had a contract on this house since June 1st, and there's been problem after problem all along the way. NOW, only after I pitched a fit and insisted they look for other options, have we been informed that the problem was because, when our real estate agent asked did we want to put NO money down, or $5,000 or more, we said "no money down". She never told us that the "no money down" loan was a govt loan and the $5,000 down loan (which we could afford) was a conventional loan....nor that the difference would have meant a difference in headaches. So, now that we know, we've asked to go through it with a conventional loan.....while I still wonder if this will ever happen.
Some people out there might wonder why this is so important to me. Why this house is so important. Why owning a home is important at ALL to me. To those people, I offer the following....
On August 9th, 1975, my parents moved into a yellow house in Maysville GA. I was not quite 2 years old then. The house was in terrible shape. It was *supposed* to be a project for my parents to work on together. Fixing up an old house. That has now become a lifelong dream of mine, since it was a dream never reached by my mother. It seemed that, despite what he'd said before, my father was totally unwilling to even make the house habitable, much less restored. This is a 2 story farm house, with 5 rooms and 2 baths downstairs, and another 2 rooms upstairs, yet I was forced to sleep in my parent's bedroom till I was 8. Why? Because my father couldn't be bothered to fix up the other bedroom for me. It needed painting, insulation, electrical outlets. Finally, it took my mom painting, and finally forcing the issue to get me into that bedroom, which was still not insulated. (nor was the rest of the house) All through my childhood, I wanted a goldfish. Ya know, those things that were like 25 cents? I couldn't have a goldfish, because it would have frozen to death in the winter. Our shampoo froze every year. Most of our stuff stayed in boxes in the attic for most of my life....never unpacked, because my mom was waiting for when the house was finally fixed up so we could begin to live. The kitchen was almost non-existent, and the sloping floor (it used to be a back porch) spent years, rotting away, while my father refused to do anything to it. My mom did what she could, but she's not a carpenter. He at least knew how to do things, but that didn't mean they ever got done. We were totally under his control. My entire childhood was spent alone. I was afraid to make friends, because I knew they'd want to come over and play, and mom was so ashamed of our house that she wouldn't allow it. So, what few friends I had....I had to keep lying to and making up excuses why they couldn't come over. This extended into my teen years, when I started being interested in boys. Certainly couldn't have boyfriends in the house, either! I've lost count how many guys I had to ask to pee outside over the years. How humiliating is that, for a teenage girl who's already shy? And, my best friend, Laury, whom some of you know about, was NEVER able to come in the door of the house. Even when things got dangerous in her marriage, and I asked my mom if she could stay with us for a while, she was reluctant. I've never been able to get rid of the feeling that I failed her, by not being able to offer her shelter. That's pretty much a condensed version of my life. My curse.....never being able to have someone in my house, and never being comfortable in it myself, or feeling like it was home.
And so now, there is finally a chance.... My first house started out yellow, and mom painted it white. This house looks like maybe it used to be white....and it's now been alone and neglected for a long time, and I want to change it to yellow. On the plus side, there's actually insulation, central heat and air, and even gas log fireplaces! Finally....a chance....to feel secure for the first time in my life. To feel I belong somewhere....that I'm welcome....and that the people I care about are welcome as well. At last a chance to NOT have to be ashamed and hide from the world. To finally start to DO the things I've always wanted to do with my life, but have NEVER done, because I've always felt insecure and subject to the whims of others. I've been waiting to LIVE all my LIFE. Every breath I take I take very lightly, because I feel it is not my right, because I have no place on this earth that is my own. I've never felt I belonged anywhere! I want to finally feel I'm not just borrowing someone else's space. I want my own space.... to learn to paint.... to grow and breed flowers.... to cultivate home grown eggs from my own chickens, and grow herbs and fruits...... to set up my own desk and write.... to free my mind enough to THINK about what it is that I really want to DO with my life, rather than worrying where I'm going to LIVE my life.... and to invite the people I love to come share life with me, rather than have to hide, in shame and solitude.
Is that too much to ask?
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