More news from the house front.
Loved one and I haunt the multiple listings in compulsive search of a potential home. The phrase potential bears a totally different meaning for us, having nothing to do with what the house could be, but more about just leaving us be.
Once we find something promising, we can't really commit to the possibility until a quick Google map search of any park, day care, school or any other place lurking within 1000 feet of the address. If nothing verboten shows up within .2, off in the car we go to scout out the place and measure distance via the car odometer.
Here's the deal on the kind of home we are searching for. Private and quiet. Adult-oriented with neighbors in possession with half a brain in their heads and a bit of life experience. Which pretty much excludes deed-restricted areas, gated communities and cookie-cutter neighborhoods. Oh, and condos.
Recently, we determined three possibilities. (Well, two really. One address we're using just to get a bead on the area).
Next call. Probation officer.
Loved one's P.O. has brand new software that immediately indicates if a potential home meets residency restriction criteria designated as ok for those citizens (and their family members) identified as sex offenders by the state of Florida. An automatic "NO" is an obvious don't call your realtor. But if a skull and crossbones doesn't pop up, the old ball and chain grabs a local cop and off in the car they go.
The two recently came back with an OK on one place. It's actually a pretty nice place, not exactly the location we want, but hey, you know that old saying, beggars can't be choosers....
Here's the funny part.
The P.O. actually said to Loved One, "But are you sure you want to live in that area? You know about this area, right?"
Residency restrictions are forcing us out of better neighborhoods and into let's say, more colorful digs and suddenly reality is slapping the P.O. right in the old kisser.
Loved One's response, "Oh, Sunny's, she's a real liberal. Never met a hooker or druggie that she didn't like."
Here's the real punchline.
I don't really want to live in Flori-duh. Period.
Just somewhere that's green. And preferably Free.
