Let’s start at the very beginning…. part two


Wasn’t that a lovely story? Did it give you all the feels?

well let me bring you up to speed….

A week after mutual acceptance I was sitting on a deck in Leavenworth with my father in law designing our dream house.

Two weeks after that I was texting our plans to my girlfriends and gushing over brick archways and outdoor fireplaces.

A week after that we were giving tours and toasting beers in the snow and looking over ‘our’ vast land and declaring it just the perttiest piece of heaven this side of the Saratoga passage.

A week after that we were supposed to close.

The day of closing we found out that there was a ‘change’ on our contract.

The change was a height restriction that was added when the property next to ours was bought by the heiress of a company that makes green tractors.

The height restriction was 17 feet.

17 feet for ANY building or TREE on our ENTIRE 20 acres.

17 feet, people.

So my Victorian picket fence hob nob castle would either need to be quickly redesigned to something Bilbo Baggins would live in….


We battle the tractor goddess (who, by the way, has no intention on building, living or doing anything with her property…its just an ‘investment’) for another excruciating 3 months.

The owner of ‘our’ property (also an heir…to a puffy vest and recreational clothing store) offers to pay for a lawyer, even offers the tractor goddess cold hard cash, offers us other properties…. but nope… when all was said and done…

Tractor goddess- 1
Puffy Vest man-0
Dan and Rachel- negative 678

Done. Over. Never getting back together.
We are the Taylor Swift of real estate buyers.

Ok so here is where things get interesting.

Are we sad? yes.
Disappointed? yes.
Wind out of our sails? yes.
Defeated? Good golly, NO.

No, we are not defeated.

I mean yes, I thought I was giving you Julie Andrews singing from a mountain top and that you all could follow along the yellow brick road of dreams…..

I thought I would start this blog, and by now I would be posting pictures of my vegetable garden or handprints in cement.

But I guess instead you’re getting Pollyanna… playing the glad game in a red hot Seattle housing market of ridiculousness.

I remember sitting on my best friends bed in jr. high talking about our future husbands and saying “I mean… our husbands are out there…right now…doing something… right this minute!!!”

I feel the same about our property.

Its out there. right now. We just haven’t found it yet.

This next chapter will be like the second place Bachelor gal getting to come back next season as the Bachelorette…. all those new Zillow listings may as well be chiseled 20 somethings who are secure with their emotions and ready to start breeding.

And what do they always say? “I am SO ready for love…” something like that. Im with ya sister. I am so ready.

So there it is.

Turns out you shouldn’t count your chickens before they hatch…
and you REALLY shouldn’t design your chicken coop before you close on your property. 🙂

The hunt continues…

next up…. mom musings….

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