Well Sheeyit

It's a lovely house, isn't it?

We need to move. NEED. To move. Rich has hated this house since day one. I did not, but we have something around 1000 sq ft, 2 kids, and a 54 lb dog. The house is early 60s bullshit, in that it's laid out terribly and everything is falling apart. Rich has looked at houses online almost every night since I met him. The other day he sent me the link to <---- that one.

Screened in porch. Fireplace. Wet bar. Yeah yeah, nice. Our primary wants are space, land, and privacy. This one has 1500 sq ft, is on four (FOUR) acres, and is surrounded by trees. And it was about $88k. Score.

So today we drove on out there. It's in the county just north of us, and it isn't really near a whole lot. That really isn't a problem. We figured we'd have to go out of county to afford anything we wanted anyway. We drove up the highway and started looking for the street, which was supposed to be right off the highway.

We couldn't find it.

So there was another street intersecting the highway, and we turned there. Got to a T crossing and I told Rich to go right. We traveled a ways and Rich told me we were looking for Scarlet. We reached a street. There were two very large black dogs guarding the street, and as we approached they made damn sure we knew they saw us. I assumed that their other two heads had been removed for cosmetic purposes. I looked at the sign. Scarlet. Naturally. So my first thought was that if we got this house there would be massive vet bills in my future as a result of taking Ginny out on leash and having her rushed by marauding dogs.

Livvie yelled, "DOGGIES!!!! Go see doggies?" and I said, "Um, no."

So we turned into the compound. Really, that's the only word for it. The road was clay. No gravel even. Just clay. And all I could think about was the fact that neither of us has 4WD and if it snows or ices we'd be fucked. The road was full of craters. Not potholes. Craters. And lining each side of the road were trailers surrounded by fences and EVERY SINGLE ONE had a sign that said "Beware of Dog(s)."

I have absolutely nothing against trailers. They are fabulously cheap housing that can suffice perfectly well as opposed to an apartment. If you're ok with being picked up in the wind and tossed a few counties away. However, when you see chain link everywhere, and warning signs, you start to fidget. And then Rich said, "It's right up ahead on Rhett."

"Wait, we turn off of Scarlet onto Rhett?"

"Yes."

"Then Scarlett is spelled wrong."

"What?"

" Oh look! It's right after O'Hara Court. Of course it is."

So we found the house. And it was the only house I could see that had any trees or privacy at all. There was no For Sale sign. The listing had mentioned that there was something pending, so apparently it went through.

I wasn't all that upset.

At lunch I said to Rich, "Just how insular do you think that little neighborhood was?" And we discussed that they were either tight-knit as hell, or they all hated each other's guts.

We just found another one online. Country? Yes. One acre. Over 2k sq ft. A little over $100k. We're going to go see it tomorrow. It has a fenced in yard, so I won't be as worried about loose dogs getting to Ginny or my kids.

If we get it I'll probably hang a "Beware of Dog" sign on the chain link.