Without Hope

Hopeless. That's how I feel these days. I've been neglecting my poor blog because I just don't have much to say right now that's positive. Here's the thing. I spend most of my day trying to look happy and upbeat for everyone else, and I can't do it anymore. It's not like I can go around lashing out at everyone and snarling, either. So I'm going to rant a bit. Listen if you want, or check back next time if you're only interested in the odd escapades of country life. I do have a rockin' hair dye story to tell when I'm in a better mood.

As you know, if you've read here before, we're trying to buy a house or build a house or invest in some kind of dwelling structure that will get us out of the Shack of Impossibly Small Proportions. Do I feel bad complaining about my house when others in the world live worse than I? Yes. And for two years I've thanked God every night that we have a roof over our heads at all. I'm not ingrateful, and I know things could be worse. But I also know things could be better. How sad is it that my child gets really excited whenever we go into a house where she can actually run in the living room? In our house, she can't even go two steps without running into the edge of the room. She thinks baths are the most fascinating thing ever because she never gets to sit in a bath tub. (Yes, I do clean her, but in the shower, tyvm.) I want the best for my family, and that includes my child having her own room instead of having to sleep on the couch or the floor or with us all of the time.

I know I should keep holding out hope that something is coming along that is better. But how long can I keep that hope up when things just seem to be getting worse? We made an offer on the only decent house near us, and that didn't work out. (We are limited geographically because of the farm.) The loan that we had for the purchase cannot be used for construction, so we can't just build on the farm with it. We saved enough for a 20% downpayment to get a construction loan, but even with our excellent credit the bank now wants a 30% down payment because I'm self-employed. Who would have though that doubling our income would mean that we couldn't buy a house? It just seems that every time we get to a point where we overcome one thing, another stumbling block pops up in its place.

I don't know how much longer I can live in this tiny, cluttered house and stay sane. I know, I could clean up the clutter, right? Well, I'd like to see anyone else live in 500 square feet (only one closet, remember) with a toddler, a home office and a quilting business and not have clutter.

I'm seriously considering purchasing a yurt. How bad does one's situation have to be before they consider living in a yurt in a place where there are tornadoes? Exactly.

If you've read this far, congratulations on your excellent attention span. Thanks for listening. You just made it easier for me to fake a smile tomorrow.