This is our 1903 home in Thorntown, Ind. It was built by the guy who owned the sawmill in town and has the best wood available in it, including the original quarter-sawn oak floor in the living room, parlor and dining room. It has an all-new kitchen with a lovely skylight (that we put in), curved plaster walls, a pocket door, a new deck on the back with screened hot tub, four bedrooms upstairs and a full, useable attic.
And we can't sell it.
We lived in this wonderful house for 6½ years and would have been content to live there the rest of our lives had we not been forced by circumstance and opportunity to move to Arkansas.
We put it on the market at the first of the year, dropped the price twice, offered it as a lease-to-own and are now looking for someone to rent it - anything to stop the financial bleeding before the winter heating season begins and completely wrecks our finances.
And, of course, this comes at a time when the whole freaking world is in financial meltdown because a bunch of criminally insane greedheads noticed nobody in government had the wit or will to stop them from making and reselling bad loans, cooking the books of major corporations and generally sucking all of the value out of our economy.
So anybody who might have wanted to buy our house is screwed because they won't be able to get a home loan in this increasingly tight credit market.
There is a limit to how long we can keep making double house payments and if I squint my eyes, I think I can see it.
That, my friends, is freaking scary.
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