...continued from The House Next Door: Under Contract

"Sooooo, are you guys going to allow the buyer make an offer on your house?"

1993:  The real estate lawyer, who seemed very well-versed in the matter, insisted that investing in a "starter home" was the way to go and -- considering I was pregnant with our first child, at the time -- our timing could NOT have been better.

"As long as you move before the kid starts kindergarten!"

2012:  19 years, 4 kids, 3 cats, 3 refinances and 1 doofus-dawg later (give or take a couple of goldfish) my husband and I have FINALLY accepted the fact that...you know...we are in it...up to our collective chin hairs...and, frankly, with a lot of people losing their jobs AND homes (stupid economy) we are, pretty much, here to stay.

Unless, Ty Pennington showed up (shows ending, enough said) or we hit the lottery (dreaming along with 6 billion other people, dammit) or if someone bought the house next door (it's under contract) and made an offer on our property.

Aaaaand, now that the house next door is under contract...Miss Grace's 100+ year-old house will most likely be razed, to make room for a WAY BIGGER and much newer house, apartments or even a couple of townhouses...like they did down the street from us...you know...now what?

On the one hand, our house?  It's just a house: 

• in need of a new roof and paint job 
• the front porch and back stairs are drooping a bit (okay, a lot)
• the windows need to be replaced
• not to mention 1/3 of the living room ceiling (stupid Hurricane Irene)
• and that's only about half of the stuff we meant to...you know...get to...eventually

On the other hand, the property is valued much higher: 

• a builder could buy both our tracks of land
• raze both our houses and put up another cul-de-sac
• connecting to the ones behind our combined properties
• and...BAM!...you got a whole new neighborhood.

Then again, I've grown accustomed to the creaks, groans and killer dust bunnies (named a few of them, in fact) not to mention, the peace and quiet of our BIG backyard.

Besides, how do you put a value on ALL the time invested in:

• trading secrets under the shade of an old oak tree
• jumping your cares and troubles away with an epic cannon ball
• gathering onion grass, dandelions and Queen Anne's lace, used to prepare Sunday dinner for the fairies who live under the stump of a fallen birch
• The blood, sweat and tears spent cultivating a piece of land, growing food for our table and flowers on the windowsills
• perfuming the air with scents of lavender, basil, anise, with hints of lemon balm, sweet William and about half a dozen butterfly bushes
• providing the perfect venue for outdoor celebrations with family and friends

It's not just a house.  It's our home.  Now that there is a tiny (and I mean, the tiny-est of tiny-ies) chance we may FINALLY be able to move up (i.e. the 3 girls will not have to share a bedroom and the boy gets a real bedroom door) I'm not sure what we would do.

"I heard Daddy tell Grandpa we're moving!"

[eyes go wide]

"Is that true?!?"

....to be continued.

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