“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 857 (Wednesday) – hunting season

Six years ago today, the purchase and sale agreement was signed for The BungaLowell. It had been a very long road to arrive at that point. My realtor, who was also my friend, had the patience of a saint and the endurance of a long distance athlete guiding me through the marathon hunt. We had spent the better part of a year looking, first in Fitchburg, then, when I started working in Lowell, we shifted the search to that area.

I loved this kitchen, but the
basement had major issues.

There was an amazing time capsule home that I fell in love with, located in a small town. The all original, aqua-colored vintage kitchen appliances were a dream with surprises built into every corner. A knife rack was built into a cabinet door. An ironing board lived on the backside of another door. The bathroom had a built in, pop-out drying rack. There was an abundance of knotty pine. I was infatuated with all of it.

The vintage siren song lulled me into being willing to overlook the odd lot shape, where one's derriere would be suspended over the property line while opening the basement bulkhead. The location on a dead-end street off a very busy street was declared tolerable (hopefully). When we went into the basement, it all began to fall apart. Literally. The support beams were riddled with termite damage and disintegrated to the touch. This could not be overlooked. It was depressing. 

There had been one serious flirtation with a house near a lake, but the home inspection revealed extensive issues. There was not the wallet, time, or patience for it. 

There were a few other houses seen that ranged from "ugh" to "ok but not great," and several that looked great in photos but were not seen in real life because they had offers accepted and my viewing appointments were cancelled. 

The BungaLowell in 2016.

The first day The BungaLowell was on the market my realtor and I were the first to see it. It needed work, but not a lot, and mostly cosmetic. We got the offer submitted immediately and luckily, it was accepted. The paperwork fell into place, and hunting season was declared ended. 

Then it was six weeks of stress, anticipation, excitement, and planning leading to the closing. Exciting, vibrant times. Maybe someday soon I'll finish unpacking.