Walking the Rightsizing Walk PART 1: Yikes! House Sold

I should know by now, if you venture into an exploratory hypothetical conversation with a real-estate broker, you might as well start packing. One casual conversation with a broker friend started the house hurricane.

My neighbor had just sold his house for a tidy sum. That got me running the numbers on the Happier Yellow House. Who doesn’t do this? In the seven years since we bought it — and greatly improved it (in my humble opinion) — the home’s value had increased nicely.

So, I asked Wendy, our broker friend, just out of curiosity, what she thought we could get. She gave me a number that even after broker’s fees would be hard to pass up. Still, the thought of listing my house, finding a new place and moving sounded more painful than surgery without anesthesia. I talked it over with my husband. DC was instantly on board. To reduce our chances of this actually happening, we told Wendy to circulate the non-listed property among only the brokers in her office. If any of them had a buyer willing to pay full price, we’d consider selling.

Three days later, two dozen or so brokers from Wendy’s office paraded through our home. A few thought they might have a prospective buyer. One brought a well-to-do widow by the next day. She made an all-cash, full-price offer. (It’s an ambiguous blessing that selling my home to the first buyer who walks in is one of my superpowers. This is fifth time in a row it’s happened.)

And just like that we were homeless.

Though this happened fast, the notion of selling and moving is one DC and I have talked about — if only idly.

DC is nearing retirement. As we look ahead, we are looking for ways to stretch our retirement income by reducing our real estate overhead. Specifically, we’d like to be mortgage free. Currently, we have two properties: our main house and a beach condo an hour away. Both have small mortgages, which are easy to manage so long as we’re both working.

We love having a beach getaway, but, because of its mortgage, it costs more than it makes in rental income. (By offering it as a vacation rental, we only have to open a vein to cover the costs not an artery.) Our plan when we bought the condo two years ago was to see how we liked it (we do) and then when we got ready to retire decide whether to keep or sell it. Here we are.

This prompted a recurring circular discussion: To be mortgage free, we could either sell the Happier Yellow House, use the equity to buy something less expensive for cash, and keep the beach condo, or we could keep the Happier Yellow House and sell the condo. The answer to the riddle kept coming as: Neither.

That is until a full-price cash offer tilted the tables. Though intellectually, I knew what to do, emotionally, the decision wasn’t so easy. I love my home and neighbors.

However! Because I strive to practice what I preach in my columns and books about downsizing and rightsizing, and specifically the notion that we must evolve so that our homes suit our current phase of life, I told myself I needed to — gulp — walk the walk.

The scramble to find a new house I loved or could love, that fit our needs — social, emotional, physical and financial — began. We had 60 days to closing. Tick tock.

Meanwhile, when I got cold feet — every 10 minutes — I would remind myself that house deals fall through all the time. They can fail inspections, parties can disagree on improvements that need to be made, financing may not materialize, contingencies might not be met. The sale isn’t over until the docs are signed and the ink has dried. I found this irrationally reassuring. Worst case, we would stay put.

But, as the reality sunk in, my outlook brightened. I grew hopeful and started envisioning what the next home could offer:

·      A man cave. In retirement, DC is looking forward to spending more time working on creative projects, including writing music. He also plans to do some consulting, so would like a dedicated space, which our current home doesn’t offer.

·      More house downstairs. Our current home has three bedrooms and two bathrooms upstairs. I can see a day when a one-level home could appeal.

·      A little less yard. The tree trimming, irrigation issues, fountain maintenance, flowerbed refreshing, pest control and lawn care all add up. However, I still want a private outdoor oasis, and maybe a small dipping pool. I live in Florida, after all.

·      The magic combo. Mostly I want a home that has what I can’t change, but not what I can. That is, I want good room flow, good natural light, welcoming curb appeal, a nice street and a nice area. I also want a vanilla house, one that is well maintained but not “done,” that could use improvement. These little gems often sit on the market and go for a good price.

·      No mortgage. I like the sound of that.

Join me next week for the house hunt.

CAPTION: Although selling your home can be an emotional time, it allows you to dream of what your next home could be. Photo courtesy of Pavel Losevsky/Dreamstime.