Real Estate

Fannie in front of the fireplace

No one can accuse us of making a killing on real estate.
Actually, real estate has nearly killed us, financially anyway.
We decided to move to our economically depressed neighborhood near downtown Des Moines 5 1/2 years ago.
Yep.
Right at the peak of home prices and just before the fall.
Typical luck for us.

We are fortunate that our 108-year-old house was mostly benignly neglected. A $55,000 renovation made the house liveable (new bathrooms, remodeled kitchen, new radiator, wiring, and more). It really is a beautiful house and there are still many, many projects that need to be done including floor refinishing, basement waterproofing, front porch repair, window replacement...
Basically, we live in a money pit.
We just did a crazy-fantastic refinance - we're saving $600 a month and the house will be paid off in less than 15 years. With a few more years and perhaps another major project or two, I could be content to live in this house forever.
The house isn't the problem.
It's the neighborhood.

It's not that I don't feel safe here - I really do.
But I don't think it's safe for my daughters to go walking alone and walking the dogs can be dangerous as well - so far in the past five years we've been attacked by a Rottweiler and a Great Dane and followed by more dogs of varying breeds than I care to remember.

The people here are friendly and much depends on who lives in the rental houses. But there is gang activity and it isn't unusual to call the police to report gun shots or street violence. It's hard to make the decision to continue to invest in a house that might never appreciate in value no matter what we do.
I feel as if I'm in a stalemate and it's easy to get overwhelmed with what to do. We know we're here for another two years for sure, three to make a smart move, longer to save a ton of money. And yet, I can't live here without making improvements, both cosmetic and functional.
So I'm working on finding contentment in the here and now.

I live in a beautiful house with lots of potential. I'm trying to embrace contentment and leave the worrying for another day.
Kind of like Fannie.
She rarely worries, has plenty to eat (ahem), a family who loves her, lots of comfy laps to sleep on and perhaps best of all a fireplace for tummy toasting.
When you think about it, what more do we really need?