Nine Years, Here!

Revisiting our 88-house long search for home

Recap: We sold our darling little stone cottage in West Galt (Ontario) on Facebook in May 2016 and then we couldn’t find another one. On August 1st, 2016 we moved to Caberneigh Farm in Uxbridge and lived in a barn for a year, wrangling chickens and learning the art of pig pedicures.

On August 1, 2017, we officially had an address on the 45th parallel: halfway between the equator and the North Pole. Our shipping container was delivered the next day, with an impressive Jenga of all the worldly belongings Kim and I had packed away 365 days before. Most of which would have been really helpful, say, in January, when we had no winter boots.

Nine years ago and 88 houses later we found our sleeping giant here in Lion’s Head. No wonder we couldn’t find our dream home—it was on the Northern Bruce Peninsula! Kim and I had never been before.

Home…is it a person, a place or a thing?

Me, running the “box office.”

If you were/are a Facebook friend, real estate agent, bartender, grocery store cashier or brick wall, you’ve probably heard about our daunting search for a home. And when I say brick wall—it’s because we were hitting our heads against one for an entire year.

Selling our little stone cottage in Galt on Facebook was easy. Finding a forwarding address became the arduous journey. Really, if we calculated the mileage that we clocked driving to and fro from the Frontenac to Tobermory, Kim and I probably drove to Tijuana, Mexico over 12 times. You know that annoying school bus song? 99 Bottles of Beer on the wall? Well, imagine 88 houses, second verse same as the first.

A traditional ‘farmhouse’ breakfast with Olive at Caberneigh Farm.

Our storage pod became a distant memory. We weren’t even entirely sure what we owned anymore—but we do know that we did not thoughtfully bring our winter boots with us to Caberneigh Farm. We became “barn cats,” sharing space with Olive the pig, eight horses, three chickens, and two real barn cats: Lucy and Freddie.

Lucy decided she was over the barn and mousing thing and began squatting quite snugly with us. My jeans were always pre-warmed (and fur-lined).

Plan A, B and C flipped and flopped. We would find a house in the fall. We would move in just before New Year’s (for sure!) and make a lovely ham studded with cloves for our family on Christmas day. Christmas and my mother’s stand-in studded ham came and went. Real estate agents (we had about seven working in our favour, at every port) promised us that January 1st was going to mark the beginning of a lava hot market. The newspaper headlines and Twitter feeds have become repetitive. The market inventory is at an all-time low, houses are going over-ask and even though it’s a sellers’ market—sellers are afraid to sell because what the hell are they going to buy? (Not much has changed.)

During our search I developed a new habit of falling in love with houses that weren’t for sale like this one on the Tay River in Perth, Ontario.

We looked in Trent Hills, Campbellford, Prince Edward County, Napanee, Perth, Smiths Falls, Jasper, Verona (see what I mean? Where?), South Frontenac, Tweed, Cramahae, Tobermory, Meaford, Tiny (until we found out my ex had a cottage there a Tiny became too tiny), Port Albert, Port Franks, South Big Island, Grand Bend, Wolfe Island, Pelee, the Moira River, Meyers Island, Warkworth, Waupoos, Westport, Elora, Fergus. On one particularly exasperating we-give-up night, we contemplated Belize.

We considered old farmhouses, log homes, pan-abodes, contemporary builds, churches, container homes, passive solar houses, three-season cottages, cottages still vintage 1963 with avocado everything, paneling and shag. We started at a hopeful $300K and upped our budget by $200,000 in no time. Name a place. We probably looked at a house or a chunk of property there. It’s a terrible, defeating game to play.

There’s no need to go into all the disappointing details of the 87 houses that didn’t pan out. Just insert something—carpenter ants, pigs for neighbours (real pigs), a cemetery two steps from the back door, a heaving floor, junker neighbours with a tent city made out of tarps and dismantled cars…

Also not for sale, another dreamy home in Bognor, Ontario.

Every day we gave up something on our wish list. Gone were sunsets. Waterfront. Gone was our notion of living in Prince Edward County—the place we had funneled so much attention and affection for.

Our friend and family circle didn’t help matters as everyone lives everywhere. Kim had retired from the steel mill and I was an editor-in-chief-at-large. I just needed an internet connection. We wanted so few things but we skewed picky. Is a golf course, microbrewery and library all in one 50km radius too much to ask?

Don’t ask how many hours of HGTV we consumed. Or, how many bottles of pre-celebration champagne we drank, so confident that the house we were going to see next was the winning one.

Obviously, finally, on one unexpected day (in particular, March 29th) we unearthed the home we had been looking bleary-eyed for (and yes, there was still snow on the ground and a skin of ice on the lake). This photo sucked us right in.

While friends were concerned about how far away it was, the house was as close as we’d ever come to our vision. In fact, it was so convincing that we were ready to buy it over the phone.

We wanted sunsets and a lake. This was it! Vaulted ceilings, an open floor plan, soaker tub, hardwood, workshop, garage and, it was all in a designated Dark Sky Community! We’d be living in a UNESCO World Heritage site. I started looking up local birds and ferns (there are orchids in this area that grow nowhere else in the world).

Tobermory in January seemed a little too bleak, black & white and remote.

We phoned our agent, Ashley Barker, who we had kindly “broke up” with after our last trip to Tobermory. The Bruce Peninsula was back on our horizon. We had seen 87 houses to know that this was what we wanted. It had been on the market 10 days and the northern market was starting to thaw. “You should come see it soon.”

Kim and I went the very next day. It was slate grey skies and miserable out but the house had a glow of its own. We pulled up the driveway and knew. For the first time, it was better than the photos on realtor.ca

I didn’t even grab our camera (which I routinely did on our searches). I wanted to take it all in—and, I knew it was going to be ours—I could take all the pictures I wanted then.

Another unreal sunset from our reel.

We laughed recalling the time we considered Tiny House Nation as we had just bought a 2,750-square foot house. Four bathrooms?? It was bigger than we imagined or needed but it was everything—tidily tucked in a forest of cedar and pine. And, we had the precious wide screen sunsets we held out for. No grass to cut. No master gardens to crook our backs managing like we did in Galt.

It was bright and freeing…relieving, even. Had we found the one?

We walked around like those buyers on fixer-upper shows that can only say, “WOW” and “Oh my god!” on repeat.

88 houses later. We found our wow. Oh my god.

Here’s the book version of this post!

If you identify with one of the four statements below, this book is for you.

1. I have put together a piece of Ikea furniture with a *&%$ Allen key.

2. I have moved so many times that my postal codes create their own alphabet.

3. I love old dogs, old people and old houses.

4. I have an ex. I am an ex. I’m with my ex again.

See? It’s a familiar pattern of roommates, girlfriends, old dogs, ex-girlfriends, older dogs. Moving. Packing. Moving.

My apologies to anyone with an old-fashioned address book during this time period (everyone). I’m sure you had to order an extra “T” page for all my revisions. Hopefully this book explains it all. Thank you for keeping me as a pen pal and friend.

As Laura Ingalls Wilder said, “Home is the nicest word there is.” It’s been nine years. This is the longest Kim and I have ever lived anywhere since our childhood homes!

How long have you lived where you live? Have you embarked on a daunting house hunting and gathering journey? Is there a dream house that you stalk and cross fingers in hopes of a For Sale sign? I love talking about real estate and UNREAL estate too.