So, last week we bought a house in the woods!
This is it. The smelly house.
Yes, it is ugly. Yes, it needs work. And yes, it stinks.
So badly in fact that we smelt it before we saw it. The stench of years and years of smokers renting the house had even infected the air outside the front door. We had just viewed a place that ticked all the boxes, so we braced ourselves for a crappy, depressing house. But our realtor swung open the door and the hands squeezing our nostrils suddenly dropped in surprise.
You know how they say that when you walk into a house, within seconds you know if you could live there? Well, Lulu didn’t feel like that. She shouted “I hate it! It stinks!” And ran straight back to the car. The rest of us wandered through, tentatively touching the beige walls, stepping over the mouse poo in the kitchen and avoiding any contact with the benchtops, but already visualising where the Christmas tree was going to go.
Within a few short weeks, it was ours.
And that other house, the one we were going to offer on? We are renting it for the 7 months we need to renovate the smelly house. And you know what? I am delighted.
The smelly house is the house for us.