Here is a sign either pointing to Kansas City or showing you the way to the lead singer of the Sunshine Band.
I've always dreamed of houses. Big, rambling, impractical houses with secret passages and miles and miles of twisted hallways. At some point in every dream, I realize that I have an apartment, and so the big rambling house, really couldn't be mine. I wonder if I'll still dream like that if I actually buy my own home.
Today I met with the realtor and her assistant at lunch. They asked me what I was looking for in a house. I assumed they meant, what was I looking for in a home I could afford. I've thought about it a lot lately, as I obsess over the realty sites in my town. Ideally, I'd like a two bedroom bungalow with hardwood floors. It wouldn't have to be that big, as long as it didn't need a ton of work. I guess, if it were possible, I wouldn't mind one of those extra upstairs rooms that Stinky likes to refer to as a teen room. As in, "Hey, mom. If we get that one house, can that big upstairs room be my teen room?" I told the realtors that I didn't have to have a garage, but after being without one during the tornado, a basement would be very, very welcome. Oh, yeah. I don't need a huge yard, but I'd like enough of one to have a garden. I would settle for a decent Ranch style home too.
In order to get the tax credit, the realtor said I had just about 3 weeks to find a house in my price range. Eek! That doesn't give me much time. They seemed pretty confident that I'd be able to find something and they were going to get back to me on when we can actually go out and start looking. I'll keep you all posted on the process.