It Begins

We took our first steps to home ownership this past week. Well, maybe not first steps.

If this were a camping trip we were going on, I'd say that we'd started packing our bags, and looked at brochures on potential camping sites. (I met with a mortgage lender, and we spent a Saturday driving around with our realtor.)

I learned that even though the lessons of the mortgage crisis should be ringing in our ears at ridiculously high decibels right now, we can still get approved to purchase a home far, far more expensive than we really need. The kind of home where if we got a flat tire one month, we'd probably end up defaulting on the mortgage.

We laughed at the fireplace in one new rehabbed condo that looks like one of those fake torches you find at Spencer Gifts.

Jason discovered a perhaps overly discerning eye for the way a front door looks. He was ready to nix one property for its goofy big street name and number. (I agree, it did look out of rhythm with the feel and facade of the building, but coaxed him to to keep the condo under consideration.)

We nodded approvingly when we saw our realtor firmly take a builder to task for listing a bathroom as a master suite when it was not.

I stomped on floors in the model above as Jason ran to the model downstairs to listen for how thin the floors were for noise.

I came home not knowing how to compare the places we had seen. This one had a great private deck where you can see the Hancock tower. The next one had a brilliantly sunny living room, but a tiny master bath, just as small as my tiny Philadelphia apartment bathroom, where when you stood at the sink, the backs of your calves hit the toilet rim. Then what about that place with the California closets, but no deck?

We do have the option to consider buying our current apartment, which might be perfect if I could only pick the building up and move it across the street so that our living room faced south instead of north. This is a terrific place in so many other ways, and it'd be our forever home without hesistation, if we were moles. I just wish there were more sunshine. Turing on the lights just is not the same as glowing, warm sunlight. But if that's my only objection...? The non-mole in me must consider this.