We made a decision tonight, and in the resolute spirit of that decision I hereby proclaim: the house search, for now, for at least a sanity-restoring little while, is over.
We came, we saw mostly crap, we attempted to conquer by bidding exhorbitant amounts of money on more than one occasion. This has not worked. It is not, for now, meant to be.
The sense of disappointment is modest, but the relief is a rush like coming to the surface of a pool after holding your breath. To have been earning well, yet in constant fear of money, of being broke, has been just plain lousy.
Searching, in itself, was interesting. I've developed a fascination with the design of the humble family home that I wouldn't have predicted. They can combine the artistic and practical, there is no other human concept like them. And we've learned a good deal, things to watch for, how to do it better next time, whether in 3 months or 3 years.
But the first thing we've learned is this- until we can buy something that isn't an unrenovated latrine in a suburb we want to live in then we are happy to contribute to the landlord's super.
He's a lot nicer than the bank manager.
A Bear agrees. I discussed it with her. Perhaps I'm allowing my own preferences to cloud my interpretation of her response, but what I heard was 'yes daddy, I want you to be fiscally free to go part time so you get to know me before I'm in kinder'.
Thanks Bear, noted, agreed. Sweet little cherub, we already have everything we could ask for in this world.
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