I feel like the ear doctor and I have made our first real offering up to the homebuying Gods.
Instead of spending a perfect Colorado summer weekend camping beside an alpine lake we found ourselves driving, eyes peeled for addresses and the tell-tale red balloons indicating open houses. We didn't get to tell jokes and stories around a crackling campfire, our bellies full of foil dinners and smores. Oh no. We spent our time talking to pushy/desperate real estate agents about old water heaters and cracks in foundation. We didn't wake up in a cool tent to the chirping of birds and the scuttling sounds of squirrel feet. Instead we went from unconditioned house to unconditioned house smelling old cat pee and dank 100 year old basements.
We made this offering in the hopes that fortune would smile down on us and reward us with a house. A home. A place we can paint the walls, fix the crown moulding and move on in. A place Roscoe can romp in the back yard and we can have friends over for game night.
So now that we've made the sacrifice I feel more hopeful that great properties will begin to come our way. Because, if not? I want my weekend back!