a glass of champagne and a phantom limb

It's been an intense week. I've been going to bed with certainty and waking up to uncertainty. But I sit here now with a glass of champagne in one hand and several sets of keys in the other (you know, figuratively). As of about 4pm today, I own the house.

Yesterday, I was dubious this would happen. I met with my real estate agent to talk about contingency plans, plans we were both pretty sure we'd be forced to choose among. We talked about proceeding, accepting the sketchy property lines as-is, and deferring the question of property rights until the neighbor decided to sell. We talked about buying the four feet, but later that morning my real estate agent went to see the city and discovered that to partition the lots that way would make both illegal. It seemed that the best course of action was to have the sellers ask their neighbor for a permanent easement, allowing the fence and roof of my house to sit on his land.

Late in the day, though - after countless phone calls between my agent, my mortgage broker, and I - we got the new survey. It had a big bold line drawn right around the fence. The surveyor had gone back to the monument, the neighborhood's point of origination, and determined that the center itself was incorrectly located. By about four feet.

I went this morning to get a cashier's check and, at noon, handed it over after signing a huge pile of paperwork (which I now own both hard and digital copies of). In addition to my many sheets of paper and a good quality pen, I got a laminated copy of the triumphant survey that pretty much saved my ass. I got several other copies, as well. I think maybe I should tea-dye one of them and frame it.

Now my boyfriend and I are taking our dogs over to check out their new home. I'm wishing I had some graphing paper and could start mapping out walls and cavities where things like new bathroom fixtures will need to go. For now, though, I'm satisfied that I'll be able to walk across the threshold of a home that - philosophically - I've been pursuing since February knowing that I can write my name on a wall, or paint it silver, or knock it down if I want to.

Truthfully, I may not even need a map. I remember crazy details about the floorplan and can recall them instantly. I'm sure I'm not the first to say it, but it feels like I've acquired a phantom limb. A 2,000 square foot, 109-year-old limb that is going to ache until I attach myself to it. I don't know if I'll be able to wait to get the foundation frozen.

I have a hell of a lot of Angie's List recommendations to write. Tomorrow, the planning begins.

four feet of grey area

The plan was to close today. Papers had been drawn up and everything was all set until yesterday morning, when we finally got the survey back from the title company. The size is right, exactly what was described going as far back as the MLS listing. However, the eastern edge of the property - turns out - is four feet inside the east fence. The footprint of the house is within the actual property line, but part of the roof overhangs it by about a foot.

In Texas, something called adverse possession means that because the four feet have been used and assumed to be part of the lot I'm buying for over 25 years, it's owned by the sellers. It's basically squatter's rights. Which is all well and good, but I know a little something about the difference between how things are under the law and how they play out in reality. Some dude owes me two grand, for example, but the law's agreement that he owes it to me hasn't gotten me any closer to collecting it. And while involving the law when a client rips you off is expected and just about the only thing you can do, going to court with your neighbor to settle property issues is far from desirable.

We have a new closing appointment scheduled for Friday, and a second survey due that day, as well. The second survey will start at the establishing point of the neighborhood to determine whether the rest of the neighborhood is also off by four feet. Given the age of many of the homes, it certainly seems possible that eighty years ago some dude doing measurements with a piece of knotted rope or something measured incorrectly. It's probably too much to hope for, though.

Given the situation, I'm wary of going through with closing if the survey comes back the same. I'm meeting my real estate agent tomorrow to talk about strategies and timelines. I'm inclined to put my foot down, however. I've asked for no repairs, despite the condition of the house, and didn't push back at all on price after getting the inspection or the appraisal. It seems reasonable to me, then, that the sellers should purchase this strip of land from the seller prior to closing and include it in the price I'm paying them. I guess we'll find out soon enough whether they agree..