For the past week or there-about I have been looking at real estate.
A part of me knows we will most likely never own our own home and will most likely never rent either (We currently live with my hubby’s parents in his childhood home), but a big part of me hopes and dreams that I am wrong.
When I find a place that I feel we could live in, I add the link to an email and email the list of homes I like the sound of that are for sale to myself.
I guess it’s a way to waste time and help the day pass as this is something that I usually do when I am all energetic and excited about something or feel the complete opposite, when I’m down and blue and just wish things would end, when I just wish I could dissolve into thin air.
I found this most recent grouping of possible homes when I was on a high. I was feeling great, like the whole world was backing me with everything I did. I sent a copy of the property list to my hubby and even he thought some of the places I found were pretty cool.
The only problem was though the price tag attached.
I thought I had done OK.
The majority of places were less than $100,000.
I know we have a very limited budget so only really looked for places with a low price tag, homes that were liveable but needed a bit of touching up, some elbow grease and a lick of paint to make them more homely.
We both fell in love with one property in particular. It would make an ideal family home for us and our needs. It was a property which I could imagine us happily living in.
It wasn’t a house as such… it was an old pub.
I had fallen in love with a 74 year old pub.
The two storey building has Art Deco features; 6 bedrooms- enough for all of us to have our own room which would mean the 4 kids no longer have to sleep in the one bedroom like they currently do; there are also 2 bathrooms which would have come in very handy as the children turned into teens and young adults; the dining and other rooms would have been great for entertaining, eating, cooking and for the children to all do their homework in after school each day.
It seemed like such an ideal property for our family.
The location was great too, it’s in a country town with schools for the children and all the services we need.
I have always had a dream of opening and running my own café/shop/museum and this pub fits in with my dream perfectly. I could decorate the pub with antiques and curios handed down in my family and also sourced from the community, keeping the feel of the pub a homely one, one of warmth, love, home style cooking and baking. I would source as many products as I could from the local community and farmers and I would give back to community groups as much as I could. I would get old photos of the town and surrounding district and proudly have them hang in the walls of my little café for all the visitors to see.
I think we have a decent enough deposit but obviously a deposit alone doesn’t buy a property, nor does it put food on the table and pay the bills.
I wish I knew what next weeks winning lotto numbers were, I wish I had a pile of money or something of value so I could get the money I need together to buy this grand property.
I fear for the pub’s future.
I have seen too many beautiful buildings demolished and be replaced with a new contemporary building.
Don’t get me wrong, some new buildings looks great- if they’re in the right setting.
This old girl needs to be saved, she needs to be able to shine again like she did in her prime.
I have fallen in love with bricks and mortar, I have fallen in love with a dream.
If only I had the way to combine everything together and make something beautiful from it…