As Peaceful as a Roller Coaster

      A new journey. We hear it talked about so frequently on social media, and in books, and don't forget those corny Hallmark movies. We see it pictured in memes as a hard-packed dirt road, lazily cresting over rolling green foothills towards the warm, coral sunset. So peaceful; so gentle; so calming. So very misleading.

     My family and I have begun a new journey. Me, a 46-year-old mom, my 12-year-old daughter, and the Papa Bear of our family, Frank have decided it's now or never to buy our dream homestead out in the wilds of Maine. We've always lived our lives in rural areas, but the "real" country living is what we yearn for. Trees, wildlife, and skies dark enough to see the veil of stars that we always miss out on here near the lights of town. I am here to tell you that our new journey has been anything but peaceful. It's been a roller coaster ride from hell. You know that roller coaster at Six Flags that has a 221 foot drop that makes you feel like your soul has left your body? Yeah, that's been our journey. I don't know where the peaceful hills are at, but I sure could use one instead of a myriad of Mount Dooms lined up one after another. 

     Back, what seems like years ago, in September we found a quaint little cabin in the heart of Maine. It was a wee bit homely, but its primitive looks are what endeared it to us. What it lacked in beauty, it made up for with space. This little ugly duckling sat on 34 acres! It surely couldn't be anything we could afford. Our funds are limited and what money we had saved wasn't anything to brag about. but it's what we had to work with. The price on the listing was no mistake and it absolutely was in our price range. So, we pinched our noses and jumped in! 

     I dragged my girl to the local bank to see what our options were. I explained the property was a camp and that it was under $100,000. Could I get a mortgage? Nope, they didn't offer mortgages on low-priced homes. They suggested a second mortgage on the home Frank already had but I didn't want to go that route. I left feeling irked but not defeated. The next day I called another local bank and, again, explained I was looking at a camp that was under $100,000. Could they help me with a mortgage? This time, I got a yes! She asked for the address and MLS#. A couple of hours later, I called back, and in a very condescending tone, she said she had concerns. The camp, she said, didn't appear to have a bathroom. Cue the facepalm.

     I had pretty much given up at this point. I didn't want to try for a personal loan because of the shorter term and higher interest rate. My only hope was to get the longer term of some sort of mortgage, but it seemed as though that just wasn't going to happen. We decided to let it rest. If it was meant to be, a way would present itself. A week or so later, maybe not even, I had the thought of trying a bank that was local to the area and asking about land loans. I got in touch with a bank in the town next to where the cabin is and explained what I was wanting to do. The loan officer replied back that oh yeah, that's called a camp loan and it would be no problem at all. Are you kidding me? Really? Hot damn! We were on our way. 

     So that's when the ball really started rolling and rolling quickly. However, it still was no walk in the park. A marathon driving session to go look at the cabin was an adventure, and it just solidified our desire to be there. We were riding high on happiness and excitement. Then it all came crashing down again when I saw something about the land being enrolled in a tree growth program. My heart fell. I didn't understand what this was, and I had horrible thoughts that this meant I wouldn't be able to clear any space for gardens or cut wood for heat. I got in touch with the forest manager and was put at ease with his explanation of what the program really is. 

     Now we're back to stressful excitement, gathering all of the necessary paperwork to mail off to the bank, mailing out the deposit for the sale, and looking at my bank account knowing it's probably never going to be this plump again. The past 2 months have wrecked me. Between working my office job, selling on Ebay, making things for Etsy and all of this cabin hoopla, I am an absolute basket case. I haven't worked out, and my body hurts. My back is junk and I have a headache damn near every day and I'm pretty sure I'm sleep deprived. At least, that's what the bags under my eyes say. I want this all to conclude and start enjoying our investment. I want to be able to get back to an even path. I'm not even asking for a downhill journey; it can be uphill, just let it be gradual and steady. This up and down nonsense is for the birds. 

This journey isn't over, not even close, but this particular leg of the journey is nearly complete. I'm excited to get this little cabin. I never really gave up hope. Even with all of the moments of discouragement and let down, a little tiny seed of hope still sat inside me, biding its time. That's part of how we came up with the name Hope Springs Homestead. That's a story for another time. For now, I'm weary. The next time I see someone talking about beautiful new journeys, I'm throwing a potato at their head.