It’s time to move on. This has been a great home for us, and we have it almost the way I want it, but it’s time to go.

When I first saw this house in the summer of 2011 I was newly divorced and needed a place to call home for me, the boy, and the dog. My budget was tight, and my list of  must haves was firm. I needed a safe neighborhood. I needed a commute that wouldn’t kill me. I needed a certain amount of space.  And I needed a pool. Yes, really. It’s hot here and I actually enjoy exercising in the water. To me, it’s worth it.

There were plenty of homes on the market in my price range, but they had needs too. They needed appliances. They needed new roofs. They needed new air conditioning units. They needed to be completely gutted because the previous owners left angry. I saw things I never thought I would see. I saw a kitchen where every door and drawer had been opened, including the oven door, and a can of paint had been splashed over every surface, inside and out, from ceiling to floor. I saw a house where every light fixture had been ripped down. I saw a house where the toilets had been smashed. I saw a house with a spray painted wall sharing the previous owner’s feeling toward a particular bank. I saw a house with multiple holes drilled through every single door, including cabinet doors. It was disheartening.

Then I saw my house listed. The picture online was pretty. We got in to see it right away. It was empty; bank owned. It was in a nice area, it was bright and open, and it had a pool. Yes, the backyard was tiny, but less to maintain. The house was more or less more in ready. I had seen enough. I knew this was the one and I had to move fast. Negotiations began, and we got the ball rolling. That was in August. I moved in the week before Christmas in a move that can be best described as a nightmare. My furniture and belongings were held hostage on the truck as the movers demanded cash, although I confirmed that they would accept credit. That was only part of the nightmare, but I’ve put it behind me. We settled in and began making it a home.

In the meantime I started dating my sweetheart. In fact I met him while I was house hunting. I had no idea that he and I would build a life together. This house was purchased for me, the boy, and the dog.

Things change. Last spring it became clear that it was silly for us to continue to maintain two households. He moved in with us, and we have all adjusted nicely. Especially the dog. Last summer we talked about the possibility of moving. I poked around and saw a couple of houses, but the pickings were slim and the idea of another move was daunting. I shelved the idea. We would make this house work for all of us. It was fine. In fact, it was nice. It is nice.

So why do I want to sell? The thing is, not too long ago the vacant lot on the other side of the street from me became a construction zone. Oh. It’s behind a block wall, and it wouldn’t be accessible from our street, but we would see it. Every day. It’s time to move.

The market has changed. My house is worth more. We have two incomes. It’s time.

The house is in good condition, but there are a few little things that need to be dealt with. We’re dealing with them. Today included a new towel bar, a new light fixture, the removal of a tv dish that we never used, and some yard work. A trip to Home Depot is in order, and some calking should make for a hot date night. I’m excited and nervous all at once. If you know anyone who needs a great house in a nice neighborhood with a view of a temporary construction site, please send them my way. Oh, and keep your fingers crossed for me.