The fourth day Our Little House was on the market, an offer was made. It was a bit below asking but otherwise seemed solid. After two weeks of us feeling like our worries might be gone, the buyer got cold feet and withdrew her offer.
These things happen, and we tried not to take it personally, but our house had been in escrow during the most active purchasing window the area had seen this summer. Then it got hot. Not the market. The weather. Heat wave after heat wave. The market dried up like our drought-stricken ground. Then there was a wildfire that never really threatened the house, but for safety's sake, still called for evacuations. It's been a bit of a struggle, and paying two mortgages each month has made me feel a bit defeated. It felt like my Charles and I had the worst timing possible for listing.
There are plenty of stories of the roller coaster ride of selling a house, which is why we felt so blessed when we got an offer right away. It felt like it was vindication for all of the years of hard work we'd put into the Little House. When that offer was no longer on the table, there may have been a few days of fighting down a panic. It's been really tough. I cringe when people ask about the house. It's sucked a lot of joy -- though not all of it -- out of settling into our cozy Periwinkle Cottage. And our poor bank account is another concern.
It's still the summer, and buyers are still out there. Keep your fingers crossed for a strong escrow for us soon!
A blog about writing, art, projects, or whatever else tickles my fancy.