Saturday, March 7, 2015

The little Blue House...

For those of you who don't know me - here is a bit of insight into my psyche..  I can obsess.

I get an idea in my head and can't let go.  In the last few years I have had this idea to buy a vacation house.  At the beach.  Lincoln City, Oregon to be exact. 

I rationalized this decision by telling myself we spend so much time there it would be common sense to invest our money in real estate.  It would put us close to my children, close to our favorite weekend location and more.  It could be a lovely family vacation home.  The kids (and grand kid) could meet us there - we could have family time.  As an investment it made perfect sense and my obsession grew.

I started prowling real estate websites. 

A year ago or so I found a three story "fixer-upper" that was just one block from the ocean with a beach view and beach access.  Peter and I went to look at it.  We wandered around outside and peaked in the windows.  It was a wreck and I loved it.  Except the kitchen was in the basement.  That was weird.  There was a door to the outside on the third story.  But there was no balcony or stairs.  Just a door to outside, and a bit of caution tape.  Oh.. and there was also the issue of the price.  Too expensive for us!

Then I found a very nice, fully furnished three bedroom house on the east side of Highway 101.  The price was quite reasonable, considering the size and that it came furnished.  The furnishings were just my style.  We actually looked INSIDE that one.  It was very cute.  Very well furnished.  But two rooms were downstairs and one upstairs.  The family space was small and I couldn't see it functional as a family vacation space- which was one of the thoughts rumbling around my obsessed self.  The other problem was that Lincoln City was working on a new law that would not allow vacation rentals on the east side of of the highway.  We need to be able to rent out our new home part of the time in order to make this a successful venture.

Then I found the Little Blue House.

It was tiny.  Like 582 square feet tiny.  One bedroom.  One bathroom.
Two blocks from the beach - but certainly in walking distance.   It was on the west side of the highway.  A perfect little rental property.  I had to change my vision from a family vacation property to a vacation/retirement home that would accomodate kids, kind of.  I looked at pictures of it almost every day.  Then the price dropped by $10,000.  This little Blue House became MY little Blue House in my blue-house obsessed head. 

Last month Peter and I wandered around the outside of  "My" little Blue House.  We peaked in the windows.  I saw nothing to discourage me.  I wanted this little blue house.  I needed it.  Did I mention I was obsessed?

This week I just happened to be in Oregon on another mission and decided to contact a realtor about my house.  My grand plan was to look at the house and find something, anything, ANYTHING that convinced me that this house wasn't meant to be.  Really it was. 

Problem was, it backfired.  The house was built in 1930.  It had original fixtures.  You know, those really cool ones that you just can't find anywhere?  It had a wonderful wood burning stove.

The kitchen was too cute for words with original glass fronted cabinets and an original farm sink and a faucet that comes out of the wall..

 
 

The flooring was a wreck - but how much could replacing flooring cost in a house that's only 582 square feet?

I started the process of buying a house and sent Peter a text message that I was buying us a house.  Bless his heart, he took it in stride and hardly reacted!

In my head I started deciding how I would furnish it.  I considered starting up a pinterest board (an application I have previously failed to see the point of...)  In my head I went over the stuff I had in storage trying to figure out what I could re-use.  I decided I needed to buy a new hide-a-bed for the living room and new matress for the bedroom - but I pretty much had everything else.  I pondered paint colors and considered even changing the outside paint from bright blue. 

Then I got the call.  The dreaded call.  It seems that bright blue outside paint is covering some very durable but toxic asbestos siding and that the foundation was a crumbling mess.  No bank on the face of the planet will loan money on this little train wreck of a house. 

Well it was fun while it lasted and after all - I had hoped something, ANYTHING would convince me to stop obsessing about it.

My plan worked after all.  I am letting it go.  Slowly.  But I am still cruising the real estate websites...

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