Previously in this story: lost in a new fixer-upper with no cash and no DIY skills.
I’ve made only two vows in my life.
One was when I married my husband.
The other was to never live in a place with an HOA (Home Owner’s Association) ever again.
Both vows stemmed from the year spent in the condo that I bought, the one I bought so I could build a sure place for myself.
I wanted a place that would look better and different from the regular apartments that all looked the same. I found one, but it needed more work and had more hidden costs than I imagined possible.
Doug and I had broken up earlier, but it didn’t last long. He offered to come help me do repairs for my new home over Memorial Day weekend. He brought his heavy tool bag with him.
I kind of fell in love with him while he changed the light fixtures for me.
Together we pulled astroturf up from the front porch. We knocked down wasp nests. I bought an industrial-grade buffer to grind 30 years of buildup off the fiberglass shower, the way people restore crusted old boats. We switched out the dining room wicker light for one that looked less like a rolling tumbleweed. We scraped pink tinting off the windows twenty feet up in the air.
We sanded and painted and filled and power-washed. We fixed holes and stopped leaks. And all this was before the downstairs flooded from a week of heavy rain that fell over Houston.
When Doug asked me to marry him (far too many months later) I couldn’t sell that condo fast enough. I got a realtor, put up the sign, and started the desperate two-fold prayer, “Please let someone buy this house and please help it not lose a ton of money.” You’re probably familiar with that one.
Waiting for your home to sell so you can move on to the next stage of your life is a trying ordeal, for certain.
God answered, I moved, we married… but that’s not the end of this story.
–To be continued. -
(As a side note, earlier this week Doug SAVED MY GRANDMOTHER’S LIFE when he was at her house and noticed all the gas streaming from her vintage stove. I don’t love him for what he can do for me, but he has blessed my family again and again.)
The Making a Home Story: