We have been house hunting. In the rental sense. We are more than ready to make this move, but we have a pretty specific wish list. The trouble is, I think we found it today (Sunday), but we may be too late. It’s pretty much perfect, an older home in a good neighborhood with ample space, great natural light, two bedrooms, hardwood floors, a clawfoot tub, all of the expected appliances, a great deck and a garage. Each of these things is wonderful, but not as important as the feeling we got while we were there. It just felt like home. The trouble is, others toured it before us, and were also very interested. I just worry that, as the hours dwindle down this Sunday evening, we lost out to one of them.
I think we made a good impression. The owner seems like a fantastic landlord. We certainly impressed upon him how much we liked it. I guess it’s up to providence now! I can’t stand the wait though. I just keep telling myself if its meant to be, it will be. But that’s hardly a consolation. If we don’t get it, I will be comparing every other space we look at to it, and hoping to get that same warm, fuzzy feeling when I walk through the door.
As I try and try not to make plans for where the furniture will go, and what color I will paint the kitchen, I remember that at this very moment, I’ve already got what truly makes my house feel like a home: my wonderful husband, my amazing little boy, and two very loving cats. Now, if the phone would just ring with the good news!