Yesterday, the owner of the real estate agency that manages the house we're renting called to ask if I wanted to buy the house. The owner was putting it on the market, and he wanted to know if we wanted the first shot at it.
Frankly, no, not even close. The house is in bad shape, not irreparably so, but the owner doesn't want to put any money into it. It's damp, the foundation is settling unevenly, there's persistent leaking in the master bath that has resisted fixing, and so on. But it's home to us, and I am not ready to move. Not even a little. I just put in my garden yesterday! Knowing it's temporary, for however long the Cabinet in its wisdom will leave us here, we can put up with the problems.
So today, we went to talk with the rental manager, who is a lovely woman. Apparently the other folks at the agency call her the Terminator, and I'm glad she was on our side. She called the homeowner, told him we were going to move rather than face the uncertainty of finding a new home when this one sells...and he backed down. Not only did he agree to let us sign a new 12 month lease, but he also took the house off the market rather than risk having it stand empty (and losing the rental income). Yay for us! Not only do I not have to move, but I also don't have to worry about showing the house.
If I'm honest about it, there are several nice properties available right now, which is a major change from when we moved here. Then there was only this house, and we were acquainted with most of its flaws before we moved in. We had options, if we were to have to move...but I'd much prefer to stay where I am. To craft & sew and write and study and work here. My dog is happy here. And soon there will be tomatoes and peppers and squash and flowers in the garden. And life is good again...after a stressful 24 hours.