It was the first part of the new year: 2022. I remember feeling a deep sense of rushed desperation. The world as we knew it was navigating its way back to “normal” but nothing felt the same. It was strange because we were in the same home, working the same jobs; kids were at the same schools; friends and family were still a phone call away; and, yet everything felt different.
We had been planning to build our forever home and had been looking for land for some time. Nothing felt right. Nothing made sense. Nothing penciled. I couldn’t shake the feeling that this next move was supposed to be different.
During that same time, a friend of mine had purchased a home, sight unseen, three thousand miles away in upstate New York. They sold almost everything they owned and piled the rest into a trailer and traveled cross-country with their kids and animals in tow. She posted about their experience on Instagram and I remember being in awe. They seemed equal parts crazy and brave.
Here in Northern California, summers were feeling more and more like being on the surface of the sun and wildfires were becoming the norm. Home prices were soaring and interest rates were on their way up, too. If we were going to do something, we needed to do it now. As a realtor, I knew the Sacramento market and what we were up against. And, then my friend in New York posted another euphoric video to Instagram. The ‘what if…’ started to cross my mind.
I started looking at properties for sale in upstate New York for fun, then Vermont, then New Hampshire and Massachusetts…and, then the Magnolia Network aired The Lost Kitchen about a little restaurant in Freedom, Maine. Most people were watching the show for the amazing food. I was completely mesmerized by the scenery. This began a series of events that changed everything.
The ‘what if…’ turned into neurotic researching. I read everything I could about Maine. I compared weather data. I google street mapped the entire MidCoast region. I even reached out to random people on Instagram who had moved from California to Maine. And, we found a two hundred year old sea captain’s home on eighty acres across from the ocean for sale. It sounded like a dream but God had other plans.
We were a bit discouraged after the fiasco that was trying to purchase a 200 year old sea captain’s home via a listing agent that was less than competent. Then, during an insomnia induced midnight Zillow scroll, we came across a home that seemed perfect. It was newer and didn’t look like any major renovations were needed. We submitted an offer the next morning and it was accepted the next day. We had just purchased a home sight unseen in a state we had never visited. What could go wrong (sarcasm)?
We locked our rate before things got crazy (get yourself some friends in the finance industry who know how to forecast) and started to plan the move of all moves: five humans, three cars, two POD containers, two spastic rescues with tiny bladders, our daughter’s dog, and an old Great Dane. We had just joined the Equal Parts Crazy + Brave Club. Maine or bust.
