So, a funny story about the house below: we bought it, and we’re moving in.
We know this announcement will spark a mix of reactions—excitement about makeovers, sadness at leaving our current home, curiosity about logistics, maybe even confusion or anger. And yes, some of you will feel the inexplicable urge to do The Carlton.
To tell this story we have to rewind seven years to our first house hunt in Richmond in the spring of 2006. Having just moved from New York City, Richmond real estate felt incredibly spacious and, compared to NYC, very affordable. We became dreamers. We explored many neighborhoods and fell for a charming, established area with large wooded lots, top-notch schools, tree-lined streets, and kids on scooters everywhere.
But the character-filled homes in that neighborhood were out of our price range, largely because the bank didn’t fully trust our financial situation. It wasn’t about savings—this was early in my new job and Sherry was still new to freelance copywriting. The bank treated her as unemployed since she hadn’t been self-employed long enough, so my name ended up being the only one on the loan. That cut our buying power in half. Goodbye dream neighborhood, hello fixer-upper.
That financial reality check turned out to be one of the best things that ever happened to us. If we hadn’t been steered toward an affordable fixer-upper, we may never have started this blog or learned the benefits of buying well within our means. Not stretching financially allowed us to save more for projects and build a stronger nest egg—while keeping the dream neighborhood on the back burner.
Fast forward 4.5 years: after bringing home a puppy, holding a backyard wedding, welcoming Clara, and me returning to full-time work, our 1,250 sq ft ranch with a single full bathroom started feeling cramped. Time to look again for more space. We hoped it would be in that dream neighborhood, but once more the bank’s rules worked against us—this time because I’d recently left a salaried job to work from home. Again, we were approved for less than we could realistically manage on paper.
Still, that limitation dropped another diamond-in-the-rough into our lap. An affordable, needs-work house meant more renovation projects and more money saved toward that neighborhood we’d been coveting.
We never explicitly treated these homes as “stepping stones” or felt we had to climb a property ladder. Sherry truly believed our first house would be our forever home—we even said so on video. When we fall for a house, we fall hard. But leaving that first place taught us we love the process of bringing an old house back to life; it’s something we wanted to keep doing.
So when we moved into our current place, we were more open to change. We planned to savor every moment here—after all, we genuinely enjoy the journey—but without promising we’d stay forever. Halfway through year three, our plans shifted sooner than expected, but our time here has been full. We celebrated three Christmases, finished a book in this house, and watched Clara hit countless milestones (crawling, walking, talking, and yes, even a bit of Gangnam Style). This home has been meaningful and leaving it is bittersweet.
Knowing we didn’t want our current house to be the last fixer-upper—this is both our passion and our livelihood—we started keeping an eye out for a property that could be a rental or a future family home. We browsed listings and visited open houses, always hoping a suitable listing would appear in that dream neighborhood. After two previous hunts that ended elsewhere, we weren’t overly optimistic.
Then, almost out of nowhere, a perfect, needs-love house popped up in the very neighborhood we’ve been admiring since 2006. This felt like a seven-year dream finally coming together. It all happened quickly: we fell in love, moved fast, and before long we were closing on the house.
Because we’d been saving for years, we were able to put a substantial down payment on closing day, keeping the new mortgage nearly identical to our current one—yet with an even lower interest rate. We spent part of closing day half-expecting Ashton Kutcher to leap out and shout “You got punked!” but everything went smoothly and the house is officially ours. We’ve already tackled top-priority repairs like fixing a leaking roof, replacing a broken furnace, and connecting the alarm system.
The interior hadn’t been updated since it was built roughly 35 years ago, and that likely scared off many buyers in a mostly turn-key neighborhood. The sellers priced it well below comparable homes—over $100,000 less than a similar nearby property. A low-priced fixer in the neighborhood we’ve coveted for nearly a decade? Yes please—70s wallpaper, blue trim, and lumpy carpet included.
Beyond price and location, this house fits our lifestyle in many ways. It’s nearly the same size as our current home—hooray, no extra square feet to clean. The street is peaceful and perfect for teaching Clara to ride a bike someday. It’s still close to family, so babysitting help is nearby. And it presents fresh design challenges that have us buzzing with ideas. We even have stairs again for the first time in seven years of homeownership.
Interestingly, at our age my parents were moving into their third home, where they stayed for decades. Maybe loving houses runs in the Petersik blood.
We know you’ll have lots of questions—When are we moving in? (Not sure yet.) When can you see more pictures? (Soon.) What does Clara think? (She already chose her room—based on the closet size.) We’ll share more details over time. We also have projects to finish at our current house before we sell it, so we’ll balance updates about selling, packing, planning, moving, and renovating at the new place. We’ll continue to share everything in real time: the good, the bad, and the ugly.
And yes, these two are the most excited of all—three if you count Ariel.
We can’t wait to bring you along for this next chapter. If there’s a takeaway, it’s patience: this isn’t “the house the book bought,” it’s the house that seven years of saving and living within our means bought. If we had stretched our budget back in 2006 for a larger or more turn-key home, our financial and career paths might have been very different. Waiting made this moment sweeter. Who knows—maybe this will be the house we stay in forever.