It’s Funny How Things Work Out

That’s going to be the title of my book, “It’s Funny How Things Work Out.” Someone remind me of that when I’m old and feeble and finally have time to write it.

You all are wondering what on earth is going on around here. I’m getting your e-mails, I just haven’t had time to respond. In a nutshell, the farm, which we thought we priced high enough so it would take a year or so to sell, sold in less than 60 days. This left us very much homeless as I had no earthly idea how I could ever afford a small homestead in the neighborhood I was hoping to relocate to. No offence to those of you who live there, but geez Louise are you ever proud of your property in that neck of the woods! The term sticker shock doesn’t even begin to describe it.

The thought of leaving a big old circa 1900 farmhouse to live on a cul-de-sac where I can’t have chickens or, heaven forbid, hang clothes on a line was horrifying.  All I wanted was a few acres and a simple home, I didn’t want a mega-mansion. Problem is, that doesn’t really exist in that neighborhood. You have your pick of brand-new cookie cutter vinyl houses that sit on top of each other or mega mansions, that’s it.

I tried to buy a nice little ranch home, but the crazy lady that lived in it couldn’t decide if she really wanted to sell it or not. Apparently she had a doctors appointment that conflicted with the sale of her home. Yeah, don’t ask me for clarification, I never understood it either.

Then there was the absolutely adorable cape cod home that the realtor failed to disclose was a short sale. Oh, and he forgot to mention there were liens against it, yadda, yadda.

Next!

Then came the typical house on a cul-de-sac, which was apparently owned by a mobster family, as they used coercion to attempt to extort money from us.  It was at this point that I started to lose it. Okay, maybe I didn’t just start. It was more like a full-scale meltdown that made Chernobyl look like a slight mishap.

Then it happened. A new home was listed on the market. Not just any home. THE home. I swear it’s listing shown like a beacon on my computer screen. I think I might have even heard angels sing.

And you know what? We ran right out and bought it. Wham, bam, thank you…er, Sir. (The agent was a guy.) It wasn’t even on the market 48 hours.

Behold, my friends, Front Porch Indiana 2.0 - The sequel.

(photos courtesy of the realtor)

It even comes with a plethora of porches. One on each side of the house. I can already picture a fern growing in a tall planter on this one.

Believe it or not it sits on four acres and is within walking distance of downtown, yet isn’t incorporated so that means I can have poultry. Hello Mildred! It even comes with a duck pond. Well, actually it might be a run down and defunct swimming pool now, but I see it as a duck pond someday.

So I know what you are thinking. What about all the other animals? Well, they’re staying here. The wonderful people buying the farm want to keep all the livestock. Yes, leaving them behind will be difficult for me, but only me. The animals themselves will suffer no stress or hardship in any way. The new family is a retiring military family returning to the hometown where they grew up. The grandparents are farmers and are looking forward to helping out. The three kids need a safe school and environment to grow up in (they are moving from DC). Honestly, I couldn’t be more pleased if I had gone out and picked them myself.

It was a long strange trip, but now I can’t help but think that this is another one of those situations that was just meant to be.