People will think I’m crazy. I couldn’t say I spent the weekend pouring money and sweat into a house owned by Bank of America. Right? Oh Wow. Actually just writing that sentence is really making me re-think everything. But… that’s … what … we … did. Gulp.
After six months – SIX MONTHS – of waiting for “The 1 Percent Bank” to approve our offer on the mid-century home of our dreams on a quiet cul de sac nestled between the beach and the canal, we pressed our luck too far and got a whammy. Apparently, our lender claims not to have known the house doesn’t have a kitchen or a master bathroom and held up the loan. SEVEN days before closing and 45 minutes before home inspection.
The conversation went something like:
Loan Officer: “The law doesn’t allow you to get a loan on a house without a working kitchen.”
Me: “… So how do I get a kitchen in it.”
Loan Officer: “You can’t.”
Loan Officer: “… Unless one appears.”
So, while those involved giving us a wink and nod to look the other way, we teamed up with a local contractor and got some help from our realtor to build a full kitchen, complete master bathroom, install a dozen light fixtures and scour a house that had been left to the lizards, roaches and Florida Skunk Apes for the 18 months since anyone lived there.
Pouring sweat and nearly several thousand dollars to bring the house up to the appraiser’s “standard”. A house that’s not ours. Not yet, anyway. And if this 72-hour gamble doesn’t pay off, all we’ll have to show for it is a lighter wallet, chemical burnt knees, the slight fear of having acquired Hepatitis B and this blog. I wonder if the Hepatitis charities ever considered Its Hep to “B” Square t-shirts?
We dumped out tons of stuff – pills, pins, wigs, heating pads, cough drops and a drawer a third-of-way filled with beard trimmings. Who knew Skunk Apes shave?
We also found **Sci Fi Nerd Alert** a Krayt Dragon skeleton in the living room and discovered trees growing on the roof. Trees growing on the roof!
Let’s hope this gamble is worth it in the end!