The Deal

Now the fun began...and if I wasn't stressed enough trying to secure the house, now we actually had to get it, and I'd heard way too many horror stories about deals falling through at the last minute ~ in fact the house we bought was under contract and the deal fell through...at the last minute.

After talking it over with SuperTony we put our first offer in about $25k below the asking price [which was, incidentally at our threshold], and the back and forth began...we ended up with an "as is" price. Through this whole thing I've learned that "as is" is not necessarily the catchall that it is intended to be. We also managed to get a clause in there that gave us an out in the event that the bank appraisal is below the sale price.

So armed with an accepted offer and me out several hundred dollars, the inspector [Gary, from "Ac Closer Look Inspections"] and his father looked at every nook and cranny. I'd never seen a sawed off golf club get that much use. But he was thorough well beyond the call. Immediate problems: the boiler, the back porch is starting to rot, the gutters are clogged and there is very old wiring throughout the house. Some [current] evidence of mice and [past] evidence of powderpost beetles and termites. But still, for its age, in pretty good structural shape.

So "as is" turns out to mean "as is" but we want a discount to fix the boiler and the porch ~ boiler because it is necessary and porch because it is a selling point of the house. After some more back and forth, they agree and we get the price down several thousand more.

Now the real fun begins with the lawyers and the bank and the every little person on the planet needing a cut of the deal. Looking over the HUD afterward, I see that buying the house isn't nearly as demoralizing as selling it....EVERYONE gets a piece of the money you have coming in, and that massive windfall you hope for suddenly evaporates in a puff of regulations and greed. The Florida house is perfect example of THAT.

The bank waited until the last minute to tell me of certain needed paperwork we were missing so a few harrowing days before the closing we finally get the commitment letter from the bank and we meet at the Century 21 in Hanover for an hour or so of wristwork. On the whole it was smooth ~ both lawyers knew each other and they took their time condensing what was in the legalese (most of which I get anyway). And with a less than triumphant flourish and the sad removal of the deposit from my bank account, we owned the house.

SuperTony gave us a bottle of champagne. We were to move the NEXT day.

The Search

Back in early summer I got the call I'd been expecting. The call I'd been expecting in about 5 years. My parents had floated around the idea of going in on a house with me once they took out a balloon mortgage on their house in Ft. Lauderdale. The deal was simple, they'd sell their house, give me enough $$ for a sizable down payment and live rent free. Their loan term was 5 years so I thought I'd have a lot of time to save, living in a very low rent apartment.

Not so.

The call asking again if I wanted to do it and if so, "start looking".

So it begain ~ furiously asking for references from all my friends who have bought recently, getting tips, evaluating what I could not afford (which was most) ~ the market for a 2 family is considerably tighter (and more expensive). I ended up settling on Zip Realty ~ not because of their rebate policy (which is cool) but more their no-nonsense approach to providing the info you need. Our agent, Tony Schepis. Utterly cool.

As the dreams of living in the city proper were promptly stamped out by the incomprehensibly exorbitant home/tax prices, we decided to look in Malden, Medford, Somerville, Roslindale, West Roxbury, and several places on the South Shore, which was most convenient for Jen due to twice weekly commute to the cape.

Then the REAL call came. My parents had sold their house. In less than a week. I had to have something in place for September. The next month and half was perhaps the most harrowing I'd ever had ~ constantly arranging for appts to see just about anything that had even the remotest possibility. Slowly all our "requirements" were washed way by the necessity of finding a house. My mother came in August to look at my top few: a house in Rockland, and 2 houses in Quincy. To make the trip worthwhile I scheduled 11 viewings in one weekend. The sheer amount of crap being sold for so much money was staggering. Then the issue of space versus convenience. The houses in Quincy were smallish, but accessible to the Red line, while the Roslindale (once it came down in price) and Rockland places were larger but on the commuter rail.

It was put to me in mid August to make a decision. And while I was prepared for the house right outside of Roslindale Sq., it just wasn't enough for what we'd pay and I did not want to wait 5 years for that part of the Rosi to clean up to where it was comfortable to live in. So Rockland it was ~ the least accessible of all the places we'd seen, but by far the largest.

An Toiseach was built in 1900 and was originally a single family house, converted some time to a 2 family and the first floor redecorated in a hodgepodge of 40s, 50s and 60s styles. 5 rooms each floor; full basement; and full attic with a finished room and the remnants of what used to be servants quarters and a dumbwaiter, which as far as I can tell is still intact. It sits on 2 parcels of land totalling about .75 acres and has a LOT of trees. Steps away from the main drag of Rockland and about 2miles from the closest Commuter station, 5 miles from Rte 3 and the P/B bus.

In other words. Home. [following pics gacked from the Appraisal report]

An Tòiseach, The Beginning

Good lord, I own a house.

With my recent enagagement, my family moving north to retire, a focus on getting some oven-baked buns, and purchasing a house, everything has changed. It is a new beginning, not only for me but for my family and for Jenny and hers.

So in the tradition of naming houses [Tara came to mind from a movie I have regrettably never seen], I christen it An Tòiseach: Scots Gaelic for "the Beginning".

This is to chronicle our attempts at resurrecting a once gorgeous house back to some semblance of its original grandeur. Should take the life of the mortgage....

Here it is: