09 July 2010

It Is Done

In America the heart of the home is the refrigerator. It holds our calendars, our doctor's notes, cartoons, funny magnets, and the beer that makes the end of a lousy day a little bit better. When we moved Mr. Fuzzy brought our refrigerator with him... and I promise it looks no better in VA than it did in NM!

Today is one of those awful good-bad days. You know the ones.... something great has happened but at the same time it really sucks too so you just can't be happy about it no matter how much you feel like you ought to be celebrating.

So what happened? We signed a contract for that old house to get a new heart. Yep, we have a contract to sell the house you all remember so fondly. Don't for one minute think that we're feeling all mushy about living in Santa Fe, it's not that. We're feeling the sting of selling in a fierce "buyer's market." Yeah, all that stuff you hear on NPR about the balloon markets crashing and stuff not selling unless it's in the multi-million-dollar bracket is true. We dropped the price on the house three times (Four? I blocked that part out a long time ago.) and were hoping to at least be firm on the price.

HA! We've had to give, again, on the price and the terms are pretty crappy too... but... at least it'll be out of our hair soon. The worst part isn't the money. Deep down we knew that the valuation was excessive, that the area needed a major adjustment, and --really-- the offer came in at just a little under what we thought the appraisal would be some four years ago. Sadly, we missed the bubble.

What really gets at us is that Mr. Fuzzy's custom home, which the architect always called his favorite, doesn't meet modern expectations. The darkroom will "have to come out" and the space, along with the kitchen, "must" be remodeled into an "integrated entertainment kitchen." And all those other things we liked about the house just have to be changed... "But the bones are good." I hope they at least like my plum tree.

Am I hearing echoes of our own statements about Stratheden? Perhaps. My operating theory is that the fairies of Dunino are exacting a certain sort of humorous lesson about the value of stuff. That's their job, isn't it Tom? I'm trying to be prosaic about it. Now we'll be able to afford to build that studio / guest house we'd really like to have. (For about the price these folks are talking for the new kitchen, I might add.)

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