Sweet Home B*llinghama
Because I don’t want to open myself up to being found with the search query B*llingham Re*ltor

A week ago we didn’t even know this house existed. Now nothing else feels like it will work. Rob has his heart set on having the club in an outbuilding. So we either have to live in a commercial zone, or convince the city we are a school and not a recreational facility.

Meanwhile, I seem to have scared the real estate agents away. The one I’d been working with sent me a bunch of commercial listings. I said, “Bleh.”

As I was looking up listings for myself, I got a call from a husband of a friend’s coworker whom I’d met a few weeks ago. He is, of course, a Realtor. He sent me a bunch of listings, for the wrong city. I e-mailed him back with a description of what we’re looking for.


But the credit union keeps calling, wanting to sell me a home loan.

update: By the municipal code definition, it seems to me that we are a “neighborhood activity center,” which is allowable with a conditional use permit. We can ask the planning director for an interpretation. Things are looking up. My mood has improved considerably, and hey, the sun’s out!

Published by Kari Neumeyer

Writer, editor, dog mom, ovarian cancer survivor

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