The Story of The Castle (Part THE END)

(The facade of our little wooden castle-- I think it's cute)

Well, the early moral of our story here is that moving is a real pain-- actually, our move was really easy, thanks to twenty very amazing friends... but getting to that part--agh!! (Once again, getting a little ahead of the story...)

We left off with my parents deciding to play the part of the wet blankets in the story right as we thought we might be putting in an offer to buy the house. I was hopping mad. What I haven't told you so far is that they were planning on giving us a 'gift' towards our down payment so that we could completely avoid paying mortgage insurance that we would then 'gift' back to them over the next year. While completely legal, it did mean that their concerns were more than frustrating, they could potentially grind the process to a complete halt. That and the house we really wanted already had an offer into its realtor and we had to place our own offer by 1:00 to be in the bidding -- and it was 12:15. I don't even remember what I said anymore, but the basic gist was that now wasn't a time for lodging frustrations-- it was time to go. That argument hadn't worked on my mom in the twenty-five years I had been alive then, and now that I'm almost thirty it still hasn't worked on her. For better or worse, my mom sticks to her principles. I still think that the biggest miracle in the process may have been that we were able to have a conversation with them, assuage my mom's concerns, and get to our realtor's office by 12:40. With five minutes to go, we had to put down a price-- and we couldn't agree on what to put down. Finally, I caved to the wisdom of Rachel and her father (I still think that this may be the first and only time that Rachel has wanted to spend $2500 more than me on anything, and the fact that I listened may have been a first too. Miracles all around on this day.

Then, like everything else in life, the fun was over and the waiting began. We moped around all day, watching TV or looking halfheartedly at ads for tiny apartments, when finally my phone rang. It was our realtor, and he didn't sound particularly happy. "Hey, two things," he said. "The first is that you weren't the high bidder for the property." I felt myself deflate just a pinch. "Ok," I said. "The second?"

"Well," he said, "I tell you the first because this is the first time I've had it happen personally to me, but they want to sell you the property anyway."

"Wow." I was in a state of shock-- partially because I couldn't believe it, and partially because fifteen seconds ago I hadn't owed $300,000. "Thanks."

We talked a little further, and the incredible coincidences continued to pile up. They hadn't taken the higher offer because we wanted to keep the tenants on the other side of the house, who had been living there for almost twenty years. We had put in our clauses to buy the house that they had to stay, and no one else bidding on the house would have. For us, it was an economic decision. For the sellers, it meant that two people that they had spent ten years living next door to would get to stay in the house that for all intents and purposes was their home. (Beyond the financial aspect, we picked up through incredibly good luck not tenants, but wonderful neighbors and friends who are wonderful adopted grandparents to Elijah and Judah-- Ina and Dick mean more to us than this small note can express). For the realtors, it was aided by the fact that our realtor found out that the highest bidder was represented by the listing agent's son, a fact she hadn't told anyone... our realtor kindly suggested that if they gave the house to them, he might be a little apt to file a conflict-of-interest complaint. For us, it was incredible. We had gone from homeless to a castle, complete with off-street parking and a dry basement (in a funny note, today 10/4/11 is the first time in five years we have had more than a hint of water of water in it). Truly, we are grateful for it.

And that's the story of our little castle...