There is nothing exceptional when you drive up to The Red Door. I wouldn't have even called it interesting back in the summer of 2014.
And this is what we saw to entice us to come look:
What I loved was the possibility. Except back then I saw more of the potential on the inside.
This house was staged so poorly, and when I look at the online listing I can't believe it had just five photos.
Initially, we were planning on putting the house on the market in early April. So we spent a lot of hours working on the yard - Tom (bless him) rented a power washer so we could spray down the stone walls and pavers (in no particular order, one of the top five things the new owner won't see coming unless they have previously owned a home with a stone wall and pavers). We cleared out yard beds from a long, wet, snowy winter of neglect. Gutters were cleaned. The deck was scrubbed. It was an all-out battle with the months of Pacific Northwest winter weather and what happened thanks to Mother Nature.
What a difference almost three years makes. And while today (well when I wrote this it was) is what I'd call a 'big day' in our family, it's so different than I ever might have guessed it would feel. Maybe I didn't know how it would feel.
Our house is on the market.
It looks absolutely beautiful - inside and out. We're so proud to show it off. But heartbroken too.
And I guess the only thing I can hope for is a large number of people I've never met, and probably never will, walk through our house (I pray, without their shoes on) and think it's as magnificent as we do.
And as we did when we were considering which house to make our home.
At least our living room looks far better today -