So, I've been looking for a house for 4 years now. Having sold my flat in London some 5 years ago it never occurred to me that buying in Wales would be difficult. In fact I was pretty certain that I would be able to afford well, Wales. What a fool I was! The last few years have seen property in Wales go stratospheric. Beyond sense or reason and certainly beyond my self employed budget. A small hovel in the hills, usually with 2 bedrooms, a downstairs bathroom (lucky it's not outside I suppose) and tiny rooms with doorways so low that I concuss myself has been disappearing off the market at the 350k mark, well out of my reach and not what I want to live in anyway.
For the last 18 months though I have had my eye on a house that I couldn't afford but which looked interesting. Finally the price dropped in January. Not really within my reach, but certainly enough for me to justify going to visit it without the estate agents going 'Pah! I don't think so fair and impoverished maiden. You shall not cross the threshold of this house you could never afford'. Instead, they sighed a heavy sigh (they are used to me visiting everything that comes on the market and then saying I hate it and think it is overpriced and not big enough for the Loyal Hound should he wish to live on his own). A visit was arranged.
The house is lived in by a bachelor and his brother. Not a dating type of bachelor but an overweight and pale man who has a shy smile and possibly a fear of the outdoors. The house smells of unwashed sheets and the Sitting Room was dominated by a large flat screen television on which Battlestar Galactica or some such sci fi thing was playing.
Although the house technically has everything I have dreamt of, I didn't like it. It didn't feel like home. I left feeling despondent but that night I drew up how it could be laid out, I dithered, I agonised and I realised that though I didn't love it at the moment that could change. I didn't love the hovel when I moved in and now it is more home than I could ever have imagined. Things change. So, I rang him and offered him money for the house. Nothing like as much money as he wanted and unsurprisingly he said "No. Sod off." (well more politely than that).
This should have been the end of it. I went off to the big smoke for work and couldn't shake the house from my thoughts. I'd lie in bed thinking about it before I fell asleep. It had everything that I say I want for the forseeable future. I have looked at a lot of houses in the last four years and finding something that ticks all the boxes I have is not easy and is inevitably well out of my financial reach.
This house needed more thought. I made an appointment to go back with a builder and look at how much it would cost to make it what I wanted. I met with the bank to find out how much money they would lend me. I went back to the bachelor on Saturday and I made him an offer. I didn't think it had a hope in hell so you can imagine my shock when he said that his answer was likely to be 'yes, 99% yes' and he would ring me and confirm once he had spoken to the people he was buying from.
Now I am waiting. Waiting for him to ring and say definitely yes. In the intervening days between making the offer and waiting for him to ring I have realised how much I want this house. Please, bachelor, ring me and say yes.
See the irony of how my life seems to be dependent on single men failing to ring me?
The price of health
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