Just call me Barney Fife
On a lovely, sunny day in June, the 14th to be exact, I put a contract on a house...specifically to build one. Not to sound too darned ungrateful, it wasn't my dream house. My dream house is a big farmhouse with a wrap-around front porch on a some land with a tree-lined creek running along side the property far enough away that you can see it from the porch but not so close that it floods your driveway or the house. This cute little dollhouse, I call it that because it ain't gonna be much bigger than one. There I go sounding all ungrateful again, but it is a small house...no garage and if I try hard, I won't see my neighbors undressing in their upstairs bathroom or bedrooms. Yeah, the property lines are that close. But...and this is a big but and one that's highly desirable, at that, but, the builder is a good builder and they pay 2.5% of closing cost. You see, I have zero cash. I haven't done so well financially in the selling real estate or divorcing o...