Friday, April 12, 2013


I am not a patient woman. I never have been. It is a virtue that I am trying to cultivate, though I sometimes feel it is a futile endeavor.

This is the reason that our current course of action is hard for me. I don't mind the tight quarters here in the Vardo on the whole. There are times it drives me nuts, but they pass. On the whole, I feel very positive and in control of our situation.

Until yesterday.

We have been working with a small, local company to repair our credit and buy a home. We have a 6 month plan at the moment. Our credit is very near where it needs to be to get a loan, and we have both a home and a few undeveloped properties on the wish list.

The home we want we looked at back in January. We actually spent about an hour and a half touring the home and property, as well as just having a lovely visit with the home owners. 

So, when we began to get our ducks in a row and were asked if there was a house we were interested in, we put that place at the top of the list. The gentlemen we are working with even went to look at it to buy it so we could rent it until we could buy it from them when we get to that step. (That is how the program works. We don't pay them anything, but sign an agreement that we will buy a home from them of our choosing at the end of the program)

All was well. Then the home owner called us. They remembered how nice we were and how much we loved the house and wanted to give us one last shot. They offered to sell it to us owner carry. They offered to work with us. One way or the other, the place feels close enough to touch.

This makes me impatient. I don't want to wait 6 months. Veruca wants it now, Daddy, NOW! It's my Hippie dream home and it is a fucking solid possibility. This makes me insane with wanting...and it also makes me scared.

I have had the rug, hell the whole floor, pulled out from under me so many times. I am terrified by the invigorating hope that is bubbling in me, in us. It's heady, and amazing,  and it makes my heart race with both anticipation and terror.

I want to be positive. I want to just think that even if this one gets away, there is an equally delicious fish waiting to be hooked, but I am fragile and my hopes have been crushed so many times they don't go together smooth anymore. 

And so now I'm trying to be patient, trying to keep hope afloat, and trying not to be afraid of possibility. 

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