Mr. Darcy and I spent over three hours yesterday driving around looking at houses for sale. Mostly just to check out neighborhoods and see what is available in our price range. At least we think it’s our price range. We’re kind of flying blind here and making it up as we go along until we take the home buyers workshop in a couple of weeks. We’re absolutely not ready to buy. We still have a lot to learn and money we need to save but we figured we might as well do some research.
There was one house in particular that we both really liked and it happened to be having an open house that day. It claimed to have 3 bedrooms, was built in the 1930’s, and had a finished detached garage that was advertised as a “man cave”. It was our last stop on our afternoon of house hunting. When we pulled up I firmly instructed Mr. Darcy, “Okay. Don’t give away too much information.We aren’t ready to buy. Play it cool.” (I’m paraphrasing.) He’s like, “Yeah, I know. I got it!” So we make our way inside, greet the realtor and introduce ourselves. And what do I say next? “We’re just looking for research. We’re not ready to buy.”
Yeah. I’m cool like that. Play poker with me sometime.
The house was staged beautifully and had a lot of the original charm- stunning light fixture in the dining room, built ins, big windows, finished basement as well as the “man cave” which Mr. Darcy immediately started to plan where all his little painted soldiers and such would go. Hello! Mr. Darcy! WE ARE NOT READY TO BUY. I thought I’d be the one falling in love with the place and instead I was just the one who blew our cover within 5 seconds of walking in the door.
Getting downstairs was a bit precarious. The stairs were very narrow and the railing a bit wobbly. There was a teeny tiny bedroom off the laundry area which Mr. Darcy and I both agreed was kind of creepy. It was like the room you were sent to when you were being bad. Beyond that was where the previous owners had their tv room- it even had a small kitchenette and full bathroom. The ceilings were very low.
The upstairs rooms were incredibly small. People in the 1930’s were very tiny apparently. The rooms would fit a queen sized bed and that’s about it. I would point out things I liked and Mr. Darcy would say, “Stop saying all the good stuff. I’m falling in love with this house.” Sensitive to his feelings I was all, “Knock it off! WE ARE NOT READY TO BUY.”
There was a long list of reasons why that house would not have been a yes for me and I listed them to Mr. Darcy as soon as we said our good-byes and were out the door. Here I thought he was going to be the hard one, the practical one and he was getting moony over a man cave where he could store his nerd things. I think we’re both cautiously optimistic about this next step. It’s hard not to get excited (and terrified) when making such a huge life shift.
We’re hoping the workshop we are taking at the end of the month will clear up many of the questions we have like- How much can we actually afford? and, Are we crazy to consider buying a house? Maybe it will even alleviate some of the anxiety we feel when we think about it. Because, man, I’ve been panicking about money ever since we started talking about this in earnest. As much as I am OVER being apartment managers, it’s hard to give up the “free” rent.