It was two years ago this month that I took a blind leap of faith and packed off my husband to go solo to Canada and buy us a house. We had built a trusted relationship with our Realtor during our fact-finding trip a few months before and together they had a set of strict instructions.
Our wish list was this:
The house had to be in the catchment for the good school
It must have an open fire
It must have a guest bedroom and bathroom in the basement for our overseas visitors
The basement must be accessible from outside to allow hubbie to get his airplanes, tools and all
manner of random crap his prized possessions in and out without going through the house.
I’d made viewing appointments for the houses I wanted him to see and was in constant contact via email and skype and when he thought he’d found ‘the one’ he filmed the house and posted a video to YouTube for my approval.
This was that magic moment
Next came the negotiations, which unlike the UK happens at an office with both parties present and in reality only took an hour. What an amazing moment when my husband called to say the deal was done and we could move in a little over 5 weeks later. Finally we could book our flights, enroll the boys in school and visualize our new lives. This was our reality check that it was all really happening. We had an address, an exact destination and we were raring to go.