I bought a house today!
Well, not just me by my onesie. My husband had a little something to do with it. We just found out that our purchase offer was accepted on a 1920 two-story “As Is” house in the growing town of Watford City, North Dakota.
There is no delicate way to say it. Handyman special doesn’t come close to describing her. The house is a disaster; a total gut job. The previous owner —may he rest in peace— apparently bought the house with the intention of renovating it, but by all appearances must have gotten overwhelmed in the process and lost his way. Somewhere in the midst of a myriad of ‘starts’ with no obvious ‘finishes’, he up and died.
And there she was —caught with her pantaloons down as it were; abandoned, embarrassingly rumpled, and hopeless. [I wish that didn’t sound so eerily familiar]
The first time we entered I couldn’t decide if a contractor or a forensic team would be the appropriate choice. One half-gutted room led to the next half-gutted room, sprinkled generously with piles of construction debris, and a collection of junk fixtures and dead appliances that includes 3 toilets, 2 sinks, 4 dryers, 3 washing machines, 2 refrigerators and 2 tubs; not including the still-attached fixtures in the non-functional bathrooms.
Take away any form of kitchen, add a few broken windows, a missing heating system and a pile of knob & tube wiring and you have the basic picture. Add that ‘smells-like- a-corpse-is-buried-in-the-basement’ odor and you’ve nailed it.
So why are we buying it? Bottom line —price. We’re buying it because we are able to pay cash for it and hopefully, with a little vision and a TON of elbow grease, we can turn a profit when it’s time to leave the oil field; one of the essential steps en route to our never-say-retire future.
Aside from the financial reasons… I think she needs me. I have an inkling I may need her too. Heaven knows she’s not going to be easy to deal with. Unfortunately the same could be said of me at times.
She’s a transplant, displaced from her origins and natural element. So am I. She was apparently moved from her prairie birthplace to her present location in town sometime in the 1940’s. Twelve years ago I was moved from my home state of Michigan west to Idaho, now only to find myself someplace in-between and not really sure where home is anymore.
She’s run-down and in desperate need of a face-lift. No comment.
She needs a fresh start. So do I. Having survived for nearly 100 years, she deserves one. Having survived completed raising my clutch of chickadees; I think I deserve one too. So we begin this journey together —me and 2nd Chance House. It’s going to be an adventure. She will be MY NEW NEST and I can’t wait to begin creating a sense of home and family within her walls!
Meanwhile, pray with me as I continue to seek a new vision and the Lord’s perfect will and purpose for the next chapter of my story. I can’t wait to see what the Author of my life has in store!