Yesterday, Alex and I went to check out a house for sale.  I know, it seems crazy, what with the one we already own still in short sale, but this one cost just $16,000.  We could pay cash for that and still have some left over to pay the bills.  My sister-in-law, K, was looking through the paper on Sunday, saw it and immediately told Alex.  She doesn’t usually get excited over the really cheap houses, but this one is in Oakmont, a very nice area outside of Pittsburgh. 

The ad said that it needed a “little TLC,” which is usually realtor-speak for “complete gut job.” Now remember, we were in the business of buying houses and fixing them up to sell or rent.  We don’t scare easily when it comes to ugly paint, gross kitchens and mysterious foul odors.  Those things used to be the smell of money to us since no one in their right mind would buy such a place to live in.  But this time, we’re looking for somewhere to live, not flip, and we have neither the money nor the credit for a major overhaul.   

But, I figured, “what the heck” and phoned the owner.  The owner said house belonged to her now-deceased mother who had moved in with her before she passed away.  She said it needed a lot of work and that it hadn’t been lived in for over a year.  She and her husband “just want to get rid of it and not worry anymore.”  With that statement, the old investor bells and whistles went off in my head; I couldn’t help it.  Even though it is sad about her mother, that kind of talk lets anyone who is in the biz know that there might be a real bargain on the horizon.  Most people consider carpet and paint to be “tons of work.”  They don’t know how cheap and easy that is, or that you can redo baths and kitchens pretty reasonably.

That being said, $16k is REALLY CHEAP for Pittsburgh.  I went fully expecting a hovel that would best be renovated with some gasoline and a match.  I was surprised to find that unless there is a severe problem hiding in the foundation (which is possible, there were some saggy floors – but what do you expect from something built in the 20s?) it was in pretty good shape.  It’s small; two bedrooms, one bath, a living room, dining room, kitchen, basement and tiny yard.  And it is on the one street in Oakmont with rednecks and crap houses.  But it has definite potential to be a cute little home, and that Oakmont address is a very good thing.

“So, what’s the problem?” you may ask.  Sounds like a great bargain at the edge of a nice area.

I’m frakkin’ scared.  That’s the problem.

Alex and I worked out how much it would take to do the things that would absolutely have to be done in order to live comfortably (carpet and paint, fix up the kitchen, fence the yard).  We could do it, but it would eat up the vast majority of the savings we have and leave very little for emergencies.  On the other hand, it would undeniably be a good investment; fixed up it would be worth more than twice what we would put in, probably more.  Plus, we’d spend the same amount in rent in only two years.  But all I could think about were the drawbacks.  It’s not in the city, like we were planning.  It is very small with little closet space, there’s no off-street parking, the bathroom (and there’s only one with a weird toilet in the basement) is miniscule and needs updating, we’d have to constantly clean up after the dogs in the yard, and the street may never become as gentrified as the rest of the area.   Yet all these reasons are really just excuses.

Some of it comes down to Alex not having a permanent job.  If he wasn’t working a contract, temporary position and was making a little more, I’d be inclined to jump right in.  Well…more inclined.   I’m also held back by having blown it with the business.  I just don’t trust my instincts anymore.  What would happen if we bought the house, fixed it up, and something we hadn’t noticed cropped up?  We wouldn’t be able to repair it and we’d be right back at R and K’s house, with even less than we started.  Alex is confident we could pull it off, but has the same reservations about timing that I do.  He’s also very supportive and says my instincts are fine. (I do love my husband for that.)

We’ve decided not to buy the house.  I think it is the best course to take.  At this point in time, the security of a full-time permanent job is essential for us to feel safe investing in any new home.  We may end up having to rent for a while, but that’s just what we’ll have to do.  I can’t have any regrets about this; I’m just going to trust that the right place will come along when we’re ready.