Tips for House hunting - Don’t Prick Yourself with Pressure Pine Needles

My husband and I have been on a quest through “Thibodaux Forest” to search for a humble house. We’ve laughed, been disappointed, and somewhat pleased. But the Baudoin abode is still hidden amidst wondering wood. “Will we find the right hobbit house?”, “Will we get a good price?”, “Will we be happy with our choice?”...

First Tip - Stay away From Pressuring Pine Needles

Needless to say, pine needles can prick you. So can pushy pressure. Find an agent who you can trust. Find one who is laid back, but not too laid back in their rocking chair. Our agent has made it clear to us if you find a house, you should jump on the “offer bandwagon”. But she hasn’t hounded us to the point of pushing us into prickly pressure pine needles. Buying a house is a big commitment. Find an agent who is your friend. Find one who won’t harp on you at every moment, “You better move fast.”

Second Tip - Have Fun Through the Forest

Yesterday, my husband and I saw an older home. The outside facade was definitely a false facade. We walked in and found structural damage and mazes of big rooms. The unusually huge rooms and dark hallways made it creepy. We both laughed at the odd house and had a memory moment. Don’t forget to have fun while on your adventure. You’ll look back on your house hunting days and say, “Remember when?”

Third Tip - Location is the Key to Opening the Door to your New House

Before looking through the wood of bungalow birches, pinpoint the location of where you want to live. Do you want to be close to work? Does a long commute matter? How are the school systems? (In our situation, school districts don’t matter, because we want to homeschool in the future.) Is the neighborhood safe? So many questions to answer. Make a good ole’ trusty “Pros and Cons” list. Always see if the pros out-way the cons.

Fourth Tip - Don’t Stress Out - Let God Lead You Through the Fir Filled Forest

If you look at house hunting from a Christian/ faith perspective...pray. Let God know your desires of your heart and He will check it off in his chart. Leave the heavy thinking to Him and He will lead you in the right direction. He will lead you to the right school district, right location, and finally, to the perfect house. Have faith and God will push back the Firs hiding your humble abode.

That’s just a few “pine needle” tips on finding a house. Remember, have fun on your journey! Don’t prick yourself with pressure pine needles.

Comments

Pine Heart Roots

On a Friday afternoon, I packed the car and my mom and I drove down Sea Blue Lane. Our destination was Pine Prairie, Louisiana. Wheels rolled down blacktop while music notes rocked and rolled through the Malibu. We sped through Lafayette and entered “Country Land”. As I passed by horses, my eyes lit up with little girl joy, as usual. Cows grazed as clouds speckled their backs. The bayous were fading behind us as pine trees started to grow in their place. The scenery was refreshing, renewing our minds with fresh crawfish waters. We finally arrived at my cousin, Dana’s house and parked upon O’Banion territory. I needed to strip my bark of “stress needles” and regrow peace around my “pine heart”. I was feeling distant from my dad. Year after year, the roughness I once felt on his hand was smoothing. He is branded in my heart, but I needed that brand to be lit under fire ...

Country Bound

Country Bound I travel down a mellow, yellow sunflower road upon miniscule “wishing” pebbles. A monument stands tall amiss sprightly wildflowers. Rustic, red barn, tell me your wisdom, tell me your stories. A split rail fence is my guide, built by thick, rough hands. It dances to a patterned rhythm around a charming, pastel blue farmhouse. I am country bound, my soul to be found. I pass by a field flowing with radiant corn. Stalks stand tall, presiding over misty pastures. Golden wheat is nuzzled with sunny rays. It waltzes with the wind and tangos with blades of grass. Hearts of farmers beat in rolling hills, growing “love soy seeds”. An apple pie sits on a crackled window sill cooling for attention. Cinnamon swirls through a two-story house. Maple beans, sweet greens, and cornbread overflow the Amish-built table. Greens pop into savoring mouths. Sugary beans candy-coat t...

Ice Skating Beyond the Wood

I once lived out in the country, beyond the babbling noise of car horns, banshee sirens, and life's marathons. Those years were spent amongst the forest and foxes unseen. Turkeys and bubbly bunnies were our woodland neighbors. Milk cows jingled, jangled across the distant pasture. Tawny deer sidled near the glistening pond, making neighbors with their shadows upon the ice. God's peace nestled on the porch of our quaint "Ponderosa". My brother and I decided to go ice skating one December eve. My dad, a bristly fellow, took up shovel and headed to our pond "beyond the wood". He heaved and hoed, shoveling snow off the "present wrapped" ice. Snow tipped oak branches where robins once perched. Flurries floated, settling upon my hard-working dad. My brother and I dressed as warm as puffy Eskimos. We trudged and nudged through the white, pure land. Hopping Jacque Cousteau (my dog), followed our ...

Search This Blog