15 August 2016 – yes! I just got handed the keys to our new house.
The White House – in Hoofddorp.
It has been a rocky road. Very rocky.
One would say, with a quick sale of my apartment, things would run smoothly.
One was mistaken …
So yeah, even before the apartment was on Funda, the main housing website, it was bought by the neighbour’s friend.
For the asking price.
Happy December Days.
Onwards to search a new house. A proper family house. For my extending family.
Zwanenburg it was gonna be – viewed no less than 7 houses on one day.
Figured I would go for an 8th – intending to buy my nephew’s house, so he could move on to his dream house.
It was not to be.
Opened my eyes to other villages near Amsterdam.
Round number 2 – one house in Zwanenburg still attracted me.
Did not want to put an offer in though before I knew my sale was complete.
Finally put an offer in – yet the energy in the transaction felt off balance.
And then …
I found The Perfect House.
It had it all.
I was the first to view it. Put in an offer.
We came to an agreement the day after.
There it was – my White House. Perfect for me. For Tony. For my boyfriend. For his girls.
And it was to be mine. It was.
Meanwhile however … 7th January. The anniversary of my baptism.
A regular Friday night. Until I walked upstairs and saw a dark damp spot appearing under my terrace door.
PANIC …. friends and family kept telling me: it will be sorted in no time, you will see.
A week later: drip drip drip from the ceiling in the living room. Excruciating sound.
Rainfall. Frost … it was not until two weeks later before the situation could be assessed properly.
Housing society sent a building inspector.
He sent plumbers… and finally 4 separate leaks were discovered.
In an apartment that had not had any problems since 2004.
I battled it all from a spiritual perspective.
For deep down I knew the apartment was crying on my behalf.
The good bad ugly of all these past 12 years
I had kept it all in. Hardly ever cried. Survived fear. Financial hardship. Single motherhood.
Accepted my responsibility for dysfunctional relationships.
Loving my boy – taking care of him without a proper support system in place.
Stretching my time. Energy. Money.
I was ever ever ever so responsible – crying was for the weak.
4 Leakages. And on I went. Job Home Move Tony Deal Mind over Matter.
I was so so so afraid that the financial consequences of the leakages would jeopardize my future.
Would disable me to live in the White House.
I could not breathe anymore.
Until I dared to LET GO.
Dared to Let people know I was EXHAUSTED and SCARED.
Many did not understand.
Only few knew how to sensibly advise me on the anxiety attacks.
I got out of my head.
Into my body. Hugs. EFT. Dance.
Involving my house. Hugging it too.
Thanking it for keeping me and my son SAFE.
The transfer date came closer.
I opened up to the buyer – gave him a full report of the problems AND the solutions.
Was he angry? Not at all. As long as he could move in during the week of March 1st.
1st of March – the day of the transfer.
The buyer loved the apartment – the upstairs bathroom looked even prettier than before.
Quick inspection and onward to the notary.
He got the keys. I got the money.
The plumbers meanwhile had written their report.
Leakages caused by mistakes during the build of the apartment.
Insurance took over their findings – and reimbursed the Housing Society for all costs made.
Happy days. Finally happy days.
A few days later the mortgage came through.
18 March the sale was FINAL.
Had landed us a nice in-between rental.
And here we ARE. In Hoofddorp.
Popping that cork. Popping that mega mega cork.
Bubbling on into a bright and light future.
Just as White Pure and Lovely as the House.