Scoreboard

1.  Semi-detached in town: sold.

We confessed to each other that we're both actually relieved about that. We both felt it was a hugely practical house that we really ought to buy, but we both secretly hated it. Certain houses just feel...tired. And it's not something new paint can fix. They're just weary in their bones.

2. Gorgeous house distressingly near the freeway: not in fact gorgeous.

Which is a little funny, 'cos it turned out you can't hear the freeway from inside the house at all. Those were extremely misleading photos, though, and while I haven't gone back over the floorplan, I'm pretty sure they lied on that as well. Why would you do that? Sure, people will come out to view, but they're going to spend the whole visit muttering, "what they hey?" Ideally, you want one good photo to draw people in, and leave the rest ambiguous and slightly concerning. I've retained the warmest feelings towards the places we've seen where I've said "this is actually much nicer than the pictures!" This house could be made gorgeous by an infusion of cash; possibly, quite a bit of it. Which we would never be able to recoup, because it's too distressingly near the freeway.

It's a shame, because it came with a paddock, and I'd looked forward to renting that out and playing with the goats every day. Still: the best outcome to a viewing is, obviously, an immediate and thunderbolt-like conviction that this is The One. The second-best outcome is an immediate and certain conviction that it isn't.

3. Cottage in the seaside village of Clevedon.

Speaking of the anguish of prospects being lodged firmly in the muddy middle. Still in the running. We'll go back for another look on Monday. However, in addition, to TH's height challenges with the staircase (for which I'll admit I'd have more sympathy if we'd ever discussed lowering the kitchen counters and shelves for my height challenges), I've learned that its listed-building historical status could make it more expensive to insure and difficult to get a mortgage. I do like this house, but the UK buying process is hellish enough without attempting the advanced level.

4. New contender: Pelican house.

Facebook friends will know it as this one:

Interesting thing: due to both COVID risks and general social anxiety (both of us), we often scout the position and exterior of a house before requesting a viewing. Had we done that here, we wouldn't have viewed it. I'm not saying we need to overhaul that system. I've always disliked "housing estates," and this is at the rear of one massive enough to have its own weather system. 

Still a pleasant surprise, though, to find a gorgeous house inside. As much as we mocked the photos showing unorthodox design choices before we went, I couldn't get over just how well it all subtly combined in person, despite the diversity of colors, textures, and influences. At least one member of that couple is, and I do not exaggerate, an absolute genius. I was humbled. (Some funny moments, too: he'd forgotten, when he opened the closets, that he'd lined the interiors all in leopard paper, and was embarrassed. It was adorable.)

And that's the thing of the house design: it was wonderfully playful, but in a completely livable way. Still, I kept telling myself, it would look very different with our stuff in it, even if we didn't paint a surface. I also wondered whether we could hire them to come do our place, wherever we end up buying.

In a nutshell: that house, if in one of the neighborhoods we've been favoring? Sold. (Though then we couldn't afford it.) That house, where it is, but not in an estate? Also, probably, still sold. As- and where-is? Probably not, Especially because the sellers hadn't even gone out to start looking at houses yet, and I can't bear to think how long we're going to stay in limbo. TH was seduced utterly by the design mastery of these men, and, I think, perilously close to wanting to make an offer, until I talked him down, pointing out how our grad-student-aesthetic belongings wouldn't work nearly as well in that pink-and-blue (-and pelican) kitchen.

5. New contender: Chepstow house.

Chepstow is across the river, in Wales, so in terms of fatal flaw, that's all you need to know. Kidding, sort of. But Wales really does have its own weather system, and the amount of rain in Bristol is trying enough, thanks. We're scheduled to see it on Tuesday, so more on this one then. It's not in an estate, but it also doesn't seem especially likely as of this moment.

And that's it. There are no other candidates even shimmering on the horizon; nothing else we're planning to phone up on Monday morning. Quite simply, houses are just not coming onto the market at all. Not just ones we don't like, or ones out of our price range; none. It's bizarre, and it's a mounting worry.

PS I promise to talk about other things besides real estate.

PPS I mean, I'm going to have to: THERE ARE NO MORE !#$%ING HOUSES.