Return of the happy pants

My happy pants went on again today with real intent.

Here is a brief background:

  • My house went under offer a few weeks ago
  • I’d already had my offer accepted on what was to be Pog Towers 2
  • I started wondering if Pog Towers 2 was the right house for me after all (because although it is slap bang in the middle of the countryside which is very lovely, it is smaller than Pog Towers – which as you know is ridiculously small – with very little potential to expand it)
  • I viewed Pog Towers 2.1 and discovered it was overpriced and mostly broken and would cost oodles to fix
  • I viewed Pog Towers 2.2 and discovered it was overpriced, mostly broken and would probably bankrupt me to fix
  • I viewed Pog Towers 3 and fell completely and utterly in love.  With a house.  I didn’t think that was possible.
  • I put in an offer a few hours later
  • The estate agents couldn’t contact the lady who owns it
  • Or the next day
  • The next day they got hold of her granddaughter
  • The next day another two offers had appeared.  The granddaughter was to talk the lady through them
  • The next day I lost Pog Towers 3
  • The next day I did a long early morning bike ride and decided to have one more try and upped my offer (I know this makes me a horrible person, but I understand it happens a lot in this house buying malarkey)
  • My offer was accepted, but I was told to hold on for 5 days to see if the people who had originally got the house would up their offer.
  • Those 5 days were up today…

And…today I’ve been told the house is mine.  There is still a small possibility that the other person could come back with a higher offer, but apparently at this stage it is unlikely.  I know the house is not really mine until the keys are in my hand, but for today at least, my happy pants came through again :o) :o) :o)

Of course, this is me, so it’s not that simple.  The lady who currently lives in the house is waiting for a place in an old people’s home.  Quite a specific place, by all accounts.  So nothing can proceed on that side until a space comes up which means I’m waiting for….well, you work it out.  There’s only one way places come up in old people’s homes….

(That feels a bit terrible)

Pog Towers 3 is the complete opposite to Pog Towers 1.  A while back a friend’s cats sent me a card (that happens to other people too, right?) asking if this was Pog Towers:


I love the image, and I think it may have influenced me quite a bit.  Pog Towers 3 isn’t quite so ornate, but it is 3 floors (3.5 if you take into consideration that the bathroom actually doesn’t seem to be aligned with any floor at all) and it has a cellar!  Norman and I wont know what to do with all the space, but I am sure we will manage.

Thank you happy pants, and thank you all the lovely friends and family who have lived the last couple of weeks alongside me on the rollercoaster.  It’s flattening out….for a short while, at least. :o)


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