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" We were selling\u00A0the perfect house. It\u00A0should&amp;#039;ve sold in an hour after an aggressive bidding war, but instead it dismally sat on the market for almost three years,\u00A0thanks to Vermont&amp;#039;s most devastating natural disaster in 85 years. When we lived in New Jersey and could finally afford it, a second home in Vermont was a dream come true. My husband&amp;#039;s work hours, compounded by a daily hellish commute into Manhattan, left little quality\u00A0family time during the week. Our\u00A0weekends in Vermont became a sacred heavenly retreat. \u00A0 We first saw the house online and instantly fell in love with its charming New England feel. Although it was\u00A0relatively new construction, the house was built to look like an old post-and-beam barn with beautiful wide-plank floors, a\u00A0new kitchen and bath, and a double-heated garage. Because it was over our budget, we obsessively tracked it online, stalking the\u00A0real estate website nightly. When the price dropped, we pounced on the opportunity. Even after the price drop, we knew that we overpaid but justified that we would keep it forever, so resale considerations were not an issue.\u00A0 Yeah, right.\u00A0\u00A0 Things changed when\u00A0my husband&amp;#039;s job took us to Pittsburgh. The\u00A010-hour car ride was too taxing for an average weekend getaway,\u00A0so we\u00A0unfortunately decided to sell the\u00A0house.\u00A0We also rationalized it\u00A0by considering\u00A0that my husband&amp;#039;s new job was closer\u00A0to home this time around, eliminating the long commute to work and carving out more time with the family. The house had served its purpose, acting as the glue that bound us, but it was time to say goodbye. We put the house on the market and made one final trip to Vermont, emotionally packing up the house. Closing the door one final time was the end of a chapter. Although I did my best to see it as a new beginning, the pit in my stomach only grew deeper as we drove away. I consoled myself with the thought that the house would hit the market just in time for the glorious fall foliage and the\u00A0skier&amp;#039;s haven winter season. Unfortunately, Mother Nature put a dent in our\u00A0plans. \u00A0At the end of August (just before the beginning of prime real-estate season for that region),\u00A0Hurricane Irene flooded the town, causing unprecedented damage. Our house was part of a community that sat high on a hill and didn&amp;#039;t sustain a single drop of water. While it remained dry, so did the market.\u00A0Very few buyers ventured up during that next year. So we lowered the price of our already reasonably-priced home and bided our time. Eventually,\u00A0one ridiculously low offer came in and we dismissed it as offensive. Little did we know that two years later, we&amp;#039;d be accepting an identical offer, wishing we hadn&amp;#039;t waited for the next best thing.\u00A0 Sometime during the first dry year,\u00A0we decided that perhaps Vermont wasn&amp;#039;t so far and took the house off the market. In reality, we were just missing home and our\u00A0Vermont house provided some much needed stability and nostalgia. With renewed promises to visit more often, we hired a mover and re-shipped our personal contents back north. We did spend\u00A0a wonderful winter break there, and we\u00A0congratulated\u00A0ourselves on our wise decision. However,\u00A0we just couldn&amp;#039;t find the time to visit again, given our kids&amp;#039; sports,\u00A0social activities, and the rarity of the long weekend necessary to make the trip. And so, once again,\u00A0we realized that sentimentality got in the way of\u00A0reality. At this point, we got back on the\u00A0emotional rollercoaster, put the house back on the market and kept promising to visit when we could. Needless to say, visits were few and far between. Two years into this mess, we lowered the price further, switched to a new agent and became disgusted with the protracted process \u2013 and if I&amp;#039;m being honest, with the house as well. I grew more resentful each\u00A0month as I paid the real estate taxes, homeowner association dues,\u00A0utility\u00A0bills, and the occasional unexpected expense (such as a\u00A0malfunctioning\u00A0septic tank),\u00A0which could&amp;#039;ve resulted in a long-distance nightmare. \u00A0 Our sense of nostalgia seemed to be going down the tubes \u2013\u00A0along with the dollars we lost monthly.\u00A0Hurricane Irene decimated many of\u00A0the charming shops, restaurants and family-owned businesses that were\u00A0so unique to New England. And it\u00A0all but obliterated the real estate market. We tried to maintain perspective and empathy, because, after all, this was only our\u00A0vacation home \u2013 thousands of others lost their family\u00A0homes and livelihoods. Our real estate agent relayed that many homes had been flooded, walls and roofs had caved in, and a portion of the road leading into town collapsed into the river. Admittedly, it was hard to stay focused and balanced and not let our selfish need to sell get in the way. At the beginning of the third year of our saga, we received an offer from a buyer who was familiar with the town and had just sold her house. While her offer was low, our expectations were even lower and she had cash in hand from her sale. We were cautiously optimistic (and desperate) and accepted the offer, reasoning that a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush \u2013 little did we know that the buyer would literally turn out to be a cuckoo bird! The buyer failed to provide necessary documents, respond to emails in a timely manner (or any manner for that matter) and failed to meet her mortgage deadline. The contract expired, and in our desperation to consummate the deal, we agreed to a lengthy extension.\u00A0Many months after we extended the contract, we ended up\u00A0selling\u00A0the house to the same crazy buyer.\u00A0 Perhaps the agony and irritation of this long process helped to alleviate the angst of selling a piece of our family history.\u00A0We didn&amp;#039;t even\u00A0attend the closing of the house,\u00A0because at that point, we were just done. With her. With the house. With all of it. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.housebeautiful.com/lifestyle/a5299/my-house-was-impossible-to-sell/>