We went to look at a house for sale the other day. I know what you might be thinking. As much as we love our home, why in the world would we do that? Well, the one for sale is in Haynesville – where Scott’s mom was born and raised – and it’s one he has seen and admired all his life. I’ve noticed it many times, too. It’s on a large lot (more than two acres, beautifully treed), covered in dark red brick, and has white columns out front. The price has been dropped several times for a reason, though.
It’s two stories, incredibly spacious on the inside, has loads of cedar-lined closets/storage all over (house and enormous attic) and under (great basement and huge storage area by the garage). We knew some of that because we had watched a slideshow the realtor posted online. We also knew that it was probably a money pit. Ever seen that movie, “The Money Pit”? It still gives me nightmares.
I told Scott that, after months of pining over the Haynesville house like a lovesick puppy, he needed to make an appointment to see it so he could get over it. That almost backfired.
In its early days (1920s) that house in Haynesville had to have been a palace. But, while it is spacious and has many interesting features (French doors, casement windows, beautiful mantle in the living room), its subsequent occupants did not take care of it as those of our house did. That house is pitifully run-down. Terrible choices were made in materials for “remodeling.” It needs $30,000 worth of paint and labor inside and out – pronto – just for starters. It needs plumbing and fixtures. It needs a lot.
Nevertheless, we were intrigued. After spending an hour wandering the house and grounds, we thanked and bid the realtor farewell, talking about his listing all the way home … and all the way through dinner. What were the pluses? The minuses? One big minus was that Miss Lo would have to attend school in Haynesville while we left to go to work in Magnolia. That alone pretty much ripped it for me, even though the towns are only 21 miles apart. What if Miss Lo got sick or had some other emergency?
I had to remind myself that some people drive more than 20 miles just to get groceries, but the minuses won out after a great deal of discussion.
Whenever I remember my crazy, mixed-up dreams, they are more often than not about houses. There’s a reason I once had a real estate license. Houses have always interested me but, until we moved back here, there was only one I fell for so completely that I had that lovesick puppy thing going.
The house crush for me was on Dexter Avenue, just a few blocks from our home in College Station. It was old. It was two stories. It needed lots of work. But that house hugged me whenever I got near it. I mean, really. I dreamed about it all the time. I cried about it. I wrote poems about it. We couldn’t afford it because of the work it needed. I know exactly how Scott feels. He has a house crush.
But we agreed that the Haynesville house lacks one thing we enjoy most in houses, whether they’re ours or someone else’s. The lack thereof reminded me of one of our favorite Randy Newman songs: “Big Hat, No Cattle.” Yes, it’s big and rambling, and the grounds are fantastic, but almost no one who owns a house lives in its yard. What it’s missing is bigger than the space it occupies.
Here’s the thing: When we first walked into our home here, we felt embraced. Nearly everyone who has visited us has said something similar. To me, that’s a big plus. The Haynesville house didn’t do it overtly, but I could almost hear it whispering GET OUT. It didn’t seem to want us. It didn’t have that vibe I require.
A house crush can be overcome. It just takes a little time.
Besides that, as we get older, the last thing we need is a home where we have to climb stairs. And I don’t want our precious grandbaby going to school somewhere else. Miss Lo thrived in preschool and is thriving at East Side Elementary right here in Magnolia – more big pluses.
You can’t put price tags on those things. They are, as the MasterCard commercials say, priceless.