I love houses. I have no discrimination when it comes to real estate. This drives my Dad and my husband absolutely crazy and has caused us to find ourselves in a couple of pickles in the beginning of married life.
After renting for a short time, we started house hunting and I fell in love with every single house I ever stepped into. One house had asbestos siding and I assured Kevin that we could have it safely removed and we wouldn't die of cancer. It was in one of Bluefield's oldest neighborhoods, afterall. Then there was the house that we put an offer on because I loved it and then my Dad came and looked at it and couldn't believe we had made an offer on "that thing." Luckily it didn't pass FHA inspection, so we were able to get our deposit back on that house. Then there was another house that we made an offer on that had a lovely finished basement--and the other side of the basement was soaking wet dirt floor and probably molds and mildews of every race, color and creed. We lost $5oo on that one when we backed out at the last minute after my Dad's pleading that we NOT buy that house.
When we moved to Covington, we looked at several houses and I saw potential in each one we looked at, despite their flaws and challenges. We bought the house that we live in currently because of the finished basement and the awesome yard for the kids. Since we have lived here, I still ocassionally get on the house hunting wagon and I will find a house and call up the realtor and have her show it to me and of course I fall in love with whatever we look at. I looked at a Tudor up in Fairlawn a few years back that I absolutely fell in love with. It was no bigger than the house we live in now--actually probably smaller when you take into account the unusable wet basement that it possessed and the yard that was all uphill. All I could see was the original wood floors and mouldings and the incredible curb appeal it possessed. I could imagine myself having parties in the enormous dining room and I could picture my Christmas tree in front of the big bay window in the living room. I didn't see all the leaky pipes and the outdated electrical, and the bad insulation resulting in $500/month utility bills.
I saw the potential in those houses to be something wonderful. With a little sanding, a little elbow grease, and a lot of tender loving care, those overlooked gems could shine once again.
People are kind of like those old houses. Sometimes we don't get to know people who are a little rough around the edges or too high maintainence. We tend to naviagate towards those people who are an "easy sell" never bothering to get to know the one's who "could use some TLC."
The truth of the matter is that a lot of people just need some encouragement and somebody to take a chance on them--just like those old houses. We always run the risk of opening ourselves up and having the basement flood or having the pipes leak. Sometimes, we will lose our butts and the whole thing will tank, but other times it's through the leaks and the drafty doors and windows that we learn patience, tolerance and warmth. I see the potential when I look at houses, and I try to do the same when I look at people. Some people need to be told they matter. Some people need to be shook a time or two. Some people just need you to sit quietly and listen.
I'm 32 years old and I still love making new friends. I still get giddy when I find a new friend that I really "click" with. I like to make people laugh, but I also can cry with the best of them. Don't let life's chaos keep you from continuing to make friends or from seeing others' hidden potential. What seems like a headache and lots of work on the outside could turn out to be a gem with a little polishing.
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