Buying and Selling

 I don't know what makes a buyers' market vs. a sellers' market. I imagine it might have something to do with consumer confidence, but that's only a guess. What I do know, though, is that we are in the midst of a crazy sellers' market.

In the summer of 2019, the hubs and I decided to sell our home of six years to move closer to work. We had no idea, of course, that COVID would eat my job and that we would end up moving to another state, but I digress. Our next-door neighbor was a Realtor, and so with his help we put our house on the market. That was in mid-August. After what felt like dozens of showings, and the usual weird complaints ("too many doors"), the house finally sold, for a good six thousand dollars less than we were asking. We didn't lose money on the deal, but when the dust settled I think we made something like $36.

So here we are in March 2021. When we moved to Virginia, the hubs stayed behind, packing up the rest of the house and bringing the belongings up in shifts. Once he moved out for good at the end of last month, the same Realtor put our house on the market. It will go fast, he assured us. There is hardly any inventory out there. 

We found the same situation, incidentally, in looking for a house to buy here while we waited out the six-month lease on our apartment. I saw a sign in a yard that said, "Just listed," so I called the agent. "It's under contract," she said. The day it listed, someone made an offer and the seller accepted. We quickly learned not to get excited if Zillow showed a house that had been listed for more than a week. Invariably, our Realtor would learn that it was already under contract.

Back in North Carolina, our Realtor flipped the metaphorical switch and our house went live around noon on Tuesday. By the next morning, there would be nine showings scheduled. Turns out we would not need them. We had priced the house for $7,000 above what we paid for it, on the Realtor's advice, knowing that it was a sellers' market.

Is it ever.

Within 26 hours, we had three offers. The one we accepted was for nine thousand dollars above our asking price, which I had thought optimistic.

Meanwhile, after looking at seemingly every house for sale in our price range in the area, we found a house that we loved. Built in 1930, it is sturdy and functional, solidly built, with a fenced back yard. We sat on pins and needles while the seller pondered our offer, which was a hair under list price. 

This morning, word came that the seller has accepted. Break out the boxes.

Many of the houses we looked at were perfectly acceptable and perfectly bland. We rejected one because when we drove through the neighborhood on a recon, the Levittown-ness of it gave us both the willies. Other houses looked bigger in the pictures. I still can't forget the charming doll house that would be ideal for the person with no possessions. Seriously! It was beautifully staged - and there was no room for anything except the furniture. Another house, built in 1912, was too cramped-feeling, but I admit the claw-foot bathtub almost sealed the deal. A third house would have been perfect in another neighborhood, one where there wasn't a vacant lot across the street. As a capper, when we stepped back out onto the porch, a resident of the neighborhood drove by, his car window down, arguing fiercely with himself. 

I don't know why the seller of the house we chose is selling. I do know that in addition to lots of wood flooring (we have dogs), a gorgeous laundry room/sunroom, and a gas stove, the house has that indefinable character. It has individuality. It was the first one we walked into in which we felt at home. I could imagine C.S. Lewis strolling down the stairs, pipe in hand, to lean against the fireplace mantel.

So it's been a busy week here. It took a whole 26 hours to sell our North Carolina house. On the other hand, we got lucky in being able to buy the house we wanted. Here's hoping that we won't have to break out the moving boxes again for a long time.