Well, you might say I’m getting a bit discouraged . . . just a bit. Here’s a rundown on the properties we looked at last Monday:
The first one had a house. It was cute on the outside, good layout on the inside—the bright blue walls in what would be my office would be the first thing to be changed. Hmmm. It had, not a walk-in closet, but a walk-THROUGH closet, which was interesting. A huge yard/garden space, and the rest of the acreage went up the hill and into the woods. Not too bad.
There were a couple outbuildings, but sadly too dilapidated to be functional—and that included the very old log cabin.
However. All we could hear were the baying of the hounds. The neighbors’ hounds. That would last about ten seconds for me. No, no, and no.
The second property was all woods. And vertical. Moving on . . .
The third one was awesome! Near the Black River, turn onto a private drive/electric easement; there were four property owners back this road, and only one who lived there. We met him. Super nice guy, once he stopped shooting.
Okay, I’ll explain that:
The property had two sections, one on each side of the easement road. The lower portion was about seven acres, surrounded by trees and bordered on the back side by a creek and then the county road. Electric, well, etc. Nice meadow and a grove of trees in the middle.
The upper section had a road going to the top of a hill, with a level area about halfway up and a wildlife pond. That’s when we heard the shots.
So we decided discretion was the better part of valor and we walked back down the road to the gate. That’s when we met the neighbor. Seven feet tall, I swear. He was very cordial and welcoming, told about the other property owners, talked about the area.
I still don’t know what he was shooting at . . .
Anyway, after we left there, my husband being all excited about this possibility, our agent called—there was a contract on the property. Dammit. Have to say, I’m a little annoyed by the listing agent. He knew this, but sent us out there anyway.
Then our agent called again. Remember the barn property? Word is that the current contract likely won’t go through—and we have a backup contract!
Of course, the bank is being iffy, when I can reach the guy, but there are ways . . . and we’ve signed the offer papers.
So keep your fingers crossed for us—I want to get moving on this and besides, I’m really tired of looking!