So 156 year old houses do not make it through inspections unscathed. Because they don't necessarily have ducts supplying heat to the second floor. Why would they? Who wants heat in the bedrooms or bath? In Michigan, during the winter, who needs that sort of extravagance?

The deal is off. My pretty house is not my pretty house anymore. The sellers didn't see the lack of ducts as actual problem (yes, I'm the one being ridiculous here). But since no heat is no problem, the sellers were thus unwilling to finance their installation. And since I'm not shelling out the nine grand to put something in that should be in there already, no deal.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why you have a home inspection.

Sigh.

This means more househunting. More 1970-style kitchens. More paneling. More neighbors with school buses. More cookie cutter ranches. More paved backyards. More 25X45 above ground pools. More "windows." More dog-shit stained carpet. More houses that back up to 800-acre gravel pits.

Sigh.

There is a song of the day today. We're going a little bit country today. Little Big Town, Bring it On Home. I find it slightly ironic that I'm choosing a song with the word "home" in the title, since I am apparently unable to buy a home. But it's making me feel slightly less depressed. So we're going with it.

Separately, I could really go for a banana.

Posted by blueostrich at 8:24 PM
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