Can you keep a secret? I know you can. There's a project about to get underway, if all goes well. Hick is as excited as a kid on Christmas Eve. He's on his phone constantly, searching not for guns, not for prices on auction merchandise, but for other people's BEST OFFER and MUST GET HAULED OFF TODAY cast-offs. Hick is at his happiest when he's virtually swimming in other men's junk. Heh, heh! Watch it there, 13-year-old selves.
I've been trying to hold in this secret for five days. Whoopsie! Here it comes! I'm not a good secret-keeper, unless it's something deeply personal, in which case I would give up the last 44 oz Diet Coke on earth rather than reveal it. This is not deeply personal.
This is a house. Not a $5,000 house, not a $17,000 house, but a $23,000 house! Inflation these days! We have this house under contract. A title search is underway. Closing will not be until the end of the month. Thevictorians are giddy with excitement.
While The Pony was sitting around with his broken ankle uncast for two weeks, he started reconsidering his plan to rent an apartment in September. I guess Hick put that bug in his ear, encouraging his apartment-hunting, but pointing out that rent money is gone, baby, gone! An investment in a house it not throwing money away. Even if you move away, you have your equity in that house.
I know it wasn't painkillers making The Pony all starry-eyed over cheap houses. He didn't get any painkillers, other than the generic over-the-counter ibuprofen in our kitchen cupboard. Each day, he'd say, "Oh, Mom. I was looking at this house over on a street where I've delivered the mail..." And he'd show me the pictures in the listing.
In fact, The Pony had a favorite on a main street, that he looked at every day. Hick and I got to looking, and found a favorite on a quieter street, with a full walk-out basement. The Pony didn't like that neighborhood, but also thought it would be a good deal. We'd sit and speculate about those houses, and what they were worth, and what could be done with them. But last Wednesday, The Pony was shocked to see that BOTH OF THEM were under contract!
Well. Such a sinking feeling in the pit of three stomachs! The Pony had a few other locations on the back burner, and after he got his walking boot on Thursday, he and Hick drove around to look at them curbside. This was the pick of the litter.
The current plan is for Hick and me to make the purchase, and The Pony will rent to own. His payment will be based on the purchase price plus an agreed-to renovation budget. He won't be in it by September, but he's okay with that. As long as he gets a jetted bathtub and a stainless steel sink.
I don't want to jinx it, but there are more exterior pictures, and details still to reveal. Maybe...