Alternate title – Search for an accessible house Part 1

Because Pen asked so nicely, I’ve decided to allude to the saga of the search for an accessible house.

But first, to recap our “house” history in 5 paragraphs or less -

Hubby and I have been together for 14, almost 15, years.  We started living together far too early in our relationship.  But it’s also kinda nice in that since we started “dating” we have barely spent any nights apart (save for hospital stays).

We have lived in many rented units and apartments together.  In 1997, we bought our first house.  A fibro, 2 bedroom shack which I loved and Hubby hated.  We lived there without complaint, despite the lack of floor coverings and the busy road until 2003, six months after Master C was born.

Hubby and I have always had a hobby of house inspecting.  We like to look at houses and love older houses, particularly Queenslanders.  If you don’t know what a queenslander is, it’s looks like this and is traditionally high set.

One day, hubby and I were driving around trying to get a baby Master C to sleep when we stumbled upon a house that was for sale (it wasn’t a Queenslander – the relevance comes later).  The real estate agent was showing another family through and being the cheeky people we are, we asked the real estate agent to show us the house as well.  We like what we saw, made an offer and had a contract on it by the end of the day.  The other family on the other hand, went home to think about it, rang up the agent the next day to make an offer only to be told it was already sold.  Oops.

So we moved into a 4 bedroom, 2 bathroom house which we thought was a palace compared to our previous shack.  A short time later, Moo’s pregnancy began and things went so horribly wrong.  Two incomes went to one.  Moo was born.  Then diagnosed.  Then mild turned into severe over the next 4 years.

And despite our attempts and a dream builder by the name of Adrian who I can never thank enough for what he did for us, our “palace” was never going to be accessible.  It was split level on too many levels.  It was never going to be a place where Moo could move unfettered.  It was the place where the exhaustive job of carer became even more burdensome because of the lack of access.

Not Moo’s fault by the way.  Just what happened.  We didn’t know how things were going to develop when we bought the house and to be honest, at the time, it never occurred to me that steps may be a problem.

So after five years, we admitted defeat and moved to our beautiful and accessible rental property.  We love it here.   But it isn’t our house.  And we live with the intrusion of people inspecting our house at inconvenient times.  I know that it is kinda ironic given that Hubby and I love seeing other people’s houses. We live with the fear that our kids will damage something we can’t fix.  And with the knowledge that one day, this dream has to end.

I think that was more than five paragraphs.

So with that history in mind – in January, we approached our landlord to find out what his intention was in respect of extending our lease.  And we were told that his intention was to sell the house.

I really hate having people come through the house we call home – looking at our things, gawking at our belongings and pictures.  Last time we raised this with the agent, he was like “but I only took four parties through the house in one month”.  That wasn’t the way I looked at it.  It was more like “I had four parties intrude upon my life in less than a month”.  I suppose if it was our property and we were selling, then it wouldn’t be so much of a problem.  But we gain nothing from the sale and we pay a fortune for the supposed “peaceful enjoyment” of the property.

So, we made the decision to look for another house to call our own.

A couple of weeks into the search, hubby and I became very disillusioned.  Properties are expensive.  We were faced with paying a fortune for a house that we couldn’t even live in.  Or moving to the burbs to live in a nice house but spend an hour each way commuting to work.  We went through so many houses and not one of them we liked even remotely.  We were beginning to think that we were going to become homeless when our lease expired.

By chance, I came across a newly advertised house.  We were the first on the phone, the first to inspect and the first to make an offer.

You may be wondering by this stage why I have called this post “Kombi”?

I have this secret obsession (or not so secret now) with Kombi’s.  Not just any type of VW Kombi.  I love the old campervans.  I can spend hours on ebay and carsales, searching for kombi’s for sale.

I have these dreams of Hubby and I waking up in a caravan park by the beach in our Kombi.  Him going for a surf, me taking my towel to the beach to READ A BOOK.

I know, just dreams.  As if I would ever be able to READ A BOOK.  Totally impractical.  Besides that – where would the kids sleep in a kombi?  Not to mention that the likely result is that Moo will never leave home and where are we going to put the powerchair even if he could sleep in the pop-top.

As a side-note, Hubby can’t see himself sleeping in a Kombi.  It’s my dream only.

The house that we made the offer on is like the kombi dream.

Totally impractical for us.

The house was a two storey storybook cottage built 40 years ago and still in original condition.  It had pristine polished floorboards.  It had beautiful and original retro light fittings.  It had one small bedroom downstairs.  The two other bedrooms were upstairs with the main bathroom.  The living area was split level.  The living area was far too tiny for four kids.  But it had a yard.  And it had water access.  And for a week, we had a contract of sale over it.

I kept on asking everyone whether I had made the right choice.  I guess because deep down I knew I hadn’t but I just wanted to have the house of my dreams.  The house that I had dreamt about for a very long time.  A house that although it wasn’t a queenslander, was along very similar lines.  Sounds incredibly selfish.  Everyone was too polite to tell me any different.

Fortunately, when it came to the building inspection, the storybook house got a big “F”.  And the contract was cancelled.  And the search for an accessible house continued.  I guess that’s why you have to check back in 10 days to read part 2 . . .

. . . and I really mean 10 days as the story is still unfolding and I won’t know the ending until then.

See you soon.

Jacqui xxx000

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