The Gingerbread Diaries

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The Gingerbread Diaries

So, yeah, this happened:

jvanderbeek_theclosing-1

After, of course, a lot of this:

jvanderbeek_theclosing-2

(No, we didn’t sign that much paperwork at the closing, that stack happens to be the 7.5# of paperwork generated by the loan over the last 3 months, not counting the 140+ email threads in my House folder on gmail!)

I’d love to say we went straight to this:

jvanderbeek_theclosing-3

But, alas, Todd had to head back to work for the rest of the afternoon and I had to go do super-fun things like set up our utilities account and arrange for the all-important Internet! (While it’s true we’re not moving in for another couple months, we’ll be spending time up there before then and there’s no way we’re surviving with just our cell phones.)

I will give the City of Thomasville credit, though: they make it very easy to start an account with them. No hideous deposits (unless you’re renting, then it’s a flat $125); one-stop-shopping for electric, gas, water, sewer, trash, cable, internet, and phone; and no “window” to meet the service rep–it’s an actual appointment time thankyouverymuch!

Of course, now that we have the home, I’m just itching to put some of these to use:

jvanderbeek_theclosing-5

But I’m afraid they’re going to have to wait until these come into play:

jvanderbeek_theclosing-4

The house has been empty a few months, but before that it was used as a personal care home. Ironic that they didn’t care, personally, for the home, but nothing to be done about it now! Except clean every inch of the place, that is. And while some surfaces really are kind of gross (banister, I’m looking at you), it’s really the smell that’s the worst–hence the mega bottles of Febreze. It’s our best option at the moment considering none of the windows open so we can’t let Mother Nature do the airing out for us.

Also on the early to-do list is to change the locks (as the Realtor put it, ‘who knows how many people have copies of these keys’–joy!). So off to the hardware store we’ll go this weekend to take care of that, then we can make copies for the people we need to give access (aka our contractor) so that the renovation work can begin!

Thus begins the ongoing saga (hopefully more of a comedy than a tragedy) of our adventures as homeowners and caretakers to a century home!

Are We There Yet?

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And by ‘there’ I mean home-owners.

5 more minutes or 2 more hours. Take your pick.

A couple years ago I was on a road trip with some friends and the ‘are we there yets’ started–though just in fun, it was only a 2-hour car ride after all. One friend said her parents would always answer ‘5 more minutes’ regardless of where they were in their journey while another’s always answered ‘2 more hours,’ even if they were pulling into the driveway.

So, are we there yet?

Nope.

Up until yesterday afternoon we were scheduled to “arrive” today… but you know there’s more to the story than just a simple postponement, right?

Last month we were dealing with the contractor snafu, but we’d found a solution and just after my last post on the subject, Contractor S got the paperwork turned in to the bank and we got the HUD work write up redone (thankfully that didn’t cost me another $600), the paperwork was off to validation and we thought we could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

[box type=”tick” size=”large” style=”rounded” border=”full”]Note: Never engage in a premature sigh of relief. Not until the ink is dry on the page and you have keys in your hand do you dare breathe that sigh of relief because to do so ahead of time is a sure-fired invitation to the Universe to knock the wind right out of you.[/box]

Y’all, we had a license issue. Again.

Only this time it was one born of, I believe, one hand not knowing what the other one intends, or maybe not caring all that much.

Supposedly, the State of Georgia requires general contractors who are representatives of LLCs or corporations to have said license in said company’s name. And Contractor S had it in his given name. Now, logically (and I tried to argue this with the bank) if S’s LLC was formed in 2003, and S is listed as the registered agent of said LLC, then wouldn’t they have had an issue with S registering for his contractor’s license in 2008 (Georgia only started licensing contractors in 2004 and it was only mandatory by 2008–let that sink in for a bit, too) in his own name? Doesn’t the fact that it was allowed through subsequent annual reports and license renewals negate the concept of the hard-and-fast rule?

Nope.

So Contractor S had to apply for an updated/replacement/appended license in the company name to be validated by Wells Fargo. Thankfully, that process was only supposed to take 2 weeks (not that we had that much time, really) but they only needed proof of application to move forward. (With the understanding that until the correct license was produced no draws could be made on the renovation funds. So let us all hope that 2 weeks was an accurate estimate, otherwise the renovation could be held up. The good news is that they estimate the work only taking 6 weeks, total, so there’s that. A 203(k) Renovation Loan technically allows up to 6 months for the work

And, of course, in par-for-the-course fashion, I didn’t find out about this little hiccup until after 5 pm on the Thursday that fell a week after all the paperwork was turned in. And of course the contractor was heading out of town, pre-dawn the next morning. More waiting, more anxiety.

I recently joked to a friend that all 203(k) applications should come with a 3-month prescription for Valium or some such.

At any rate, the application was submitted, we finally got our validation, and all we needed was for the bank to confirm the funds were in the bank and we could send everything to final underwriting.

And that was the other headache of this past month.

To refresh everyone’s memory, we were not planning to buy a home so soon after getting married. The opportunity fell into our lap, pretty much, and we jumped on it, but we weren’t exactly ready for it in the we-have-a-savings-account-for-the-down-payment-and-closing-costs sense. Instead, the funds for this adventure were coming from two sources:

  1. A whole-life policy of Todd’s that his grandfather had taken out for him when Todd was just a baby. It was about 60 years from maturation, but it had a decent surrender value that we’d planned to use as the starter funds for our house savings.
  2. A draw on my 401(k) account (not always a great idea, but it’s one of the 5 legit reasons to withdraw from our plan since we don’t allow loans against the balance and it makes sense for us right now).

The one thing we could have done differently is get the funds out of the life policy before now. We’d talked about it, but I fully admit we got lulled into the plenty-of-time illusion with the snail’s pace everything seemed to be taking, plus the fact that the beginning of the year is pretty much a stressful time for anyone in finance and accounting and we kept putting it off. We had (and by we, I mean Todd, since it was in his name and I couldn’t request anything from them on his behalf), by this time, made the funds request, but the first person Todd spoke to insisted the forms had to be mailed. Two days later (and no forms having yet arrived), Todd called back and finally got someone who understood how modern technology worked and was able to use email and fax to get the forms completed, so then it was just a waiting game.

And boy did we wait! It took almost 2 full weeks for the check to arrive from that insurance company, while my 401(k) request went in on a Wednesday afternoon and I had it in the bank by 2pm on that Friday–they, of course, had a better process and an Express option, but still. Night and day difference. And it was that difference that put this week’s closing in peril.

See, the seller was getting fed up with the delays. Not that I can completely blame her, but each time we had to ask for a closing extension there was much hemming and hawing and wringing of hands relayed by the Realtor. And this last one (well, it was supposed to be the last one) was the icing on the cake. We weren’t going to be able to make the closing for March 26th, but we knew that our drop-dead date was April 14th, since our lease renewal is due to the property manager on the 15th if we’re not planning to move. No wiggle room.

Our loan processor had suggested we ask for the 14th on the new extension, since we knew it was as late as we could go, but that we try to close before that date, just as soon as everything was where it needed to be. Seller didn’t like that at all! She only wanted to extend it a few days and, well, that just wasn’t going to happen. We were in the very real position of having the seller cancel the contract after 3 months of stress and anguish trying to make this deal happen.

It wasn’t a happy weekend.

The seller conceded to a 1-week extension and we waited to see if the check from Todd’s insurance would show up, and every day Todd would call to find out the status from the insurance company and get a ‘they’re just waiting for the final accounting numbers to be able to cut the check.’ Meanwhile, the check had actually been cut on the 26th but then took it’s sweet time travelling from Nebraska to Florida, finally arriving on the 31st.

Our current extension was set to expire on the 2nd, but there’s something in Georgia purchase contracts that allows a 7-day unilateral extension to allow for financial processing delays. Could be use that and be able to close within that window?

Maybe.

Ready for another wrinkle? In Georgia you have to designate an attorney for the loan closing (Florida and many other states consider the attorney optional, for what it’s worth, and you just get your docs from the title company and keep on moving) and our lawyer was going out of town the week of the 7th. Can you say crap on a cracker? I can!

Was the lawyer available for a Friday closing? Maybe we could squeak this in? No, he was booked (as anyone would be if they were clearing their schedule to be gone for a week), but he could realistically do 3pm on Thursday (that would be today, folks) IF the bank got their paperwork to him by 10am that day. He said it wouldn’t be as pretty and seamless compared to when he had more time, but I told him I didn’t care if it was pretty, I just needed it done.

And so this week happened:

  • Monday, 3/31: insurance check arrives, but too late to make the bank’s deposit for that day
  • Tuesday, 4/1: Todd deposits check in the morning (being late for work to get there right when the teller’s window opens at 8:30), and writes me a check in the evening
  • Wednesday, 4/2: I deposit the check first thing in the morning (ditto the being late), and then leave work early to drive up to Cairo to secure the needed home owners insurance so it’ll be bound for the next day.

That’s when things ground to a halt.

Because the funds were not inherently mine, we’d had to treat the insurance money as a “gift” from Todd to me to be acceptable by mortgage standards. Because it would have required 3 more documents (including one from the slow-as-molasses insurance company) for Todd to just sign the check over to me (again with the lack of logic/too much red tape), the funds had to go through the accepted chain of custody account-hop to make sure everything was on the up and up. And because the bank had to be able to verify the funds before getting the all clear from underwriting, we were counting on a major miracle that the bank (which is, incidentally, the same as the lender, so why… no, not going there again) would release the “pending” status of my deposit early. That didn’t happen.

So when I got to the insurance office (an hour away from my office, so thanks lost time at work!) was when I checked my email messages to find we weren’t going to make the closing on Thursday.

I mean, I knew it was a long-shot, but everyone seemed to think we could make this work, so we forged ahead, allowing ourselves to anticipate being homeowners by the end of the week. To have that taken away, again, was just… no words are coming to me to describe the mixture of disappointment, dejection, and frustration that settled on my shoulders once again.

I had ice cream for dinner, if that’s any indication of my mood.

But there was hope. By the time I got back to Tallahassee, the lawyer had spoken with the seller and convinced her (citing that it was his schedule, not ours, that was causing the delay–thanks for taking that bullet!) to wait until he got back–on the 14th–to close. He got us this final extension, even while the Realtor said the seller wouldn’t approve the 14th no-way, no-how. Thank you, Lawyer S!

5 more minute. 2 more hours. 10 more days.

The Dubious Solution (Another House Update)

The Gingerbread Diaries

So far, each time I update here about the Saga of the House something happens the next day that changes the road ahead–or at least presents a significant speed bump.

After our last update I realized that we were well and truly only two weeks from closing and I was both astonished as well as suspicious that we had all the needed ducks in a row. Sending out a round of status updates to our team I was, unfortunately, proved correct: our contractor had failed the bank’s validation.

Damn.

Turns out our contractor, the one man who consistently returns my calls and whom I know in my gut I can trust to do this job as he promised, seems to only hold a county license when the bank is requiring a state one. And it’s not like he can go down to the courthouse and file some paperwork and get said license, the process can take months so it looked like we were once again sunk.

Only there was hope in the form of our contractor’s cousin, holder of the required state license and someone he’s worked for before. The bank and I both had the same thought: would Contractor S be willing to sign on as General Contractor and sub the work out to Contractor L? That was the question at hand.

It took a few days to arrange a meeting between S & L the following Saturday to go over the broad strokes of the deal, then Monday Banker R informed me we were back in business, Contractor S was willing and seemed like he had everything the bank would require of him, and we pushed the closing back two weeks to allow for paperwork processing.

And then we waited.

We waited a full week while Contractor S neglected to return phone calls or emails, did not submit the requested documentation, and generally made everyone uneasy. So uneasy, in fact, that our HUD Consultant called me at 9:30am this Saturday morning concerned about the state of affairs and fearful that we were about to be screwed over. Granted, the worst-case-scenario part of my brain (which was fairly well developed before we entered the real estate game) had already thought of all those angles and many more, but to hear someone other than the niggling voice in the back of my mind express them was not exactly how I wanted to start my weekend!

Did you ever have to endure group projects in school? I always hated them with a passion–first because I like to work alone, second because there always seemed to be an inequality of the effort put forth. Essentially the 80/20 rule in miniature, it bothered me to no end to be responsible for someone else’s grade only slightly less than it bothered me to have someone else responsible for mine!

Up until now, everyone involved in this venture has been fairly well invested in the process, either for purpose of personal gain (myself, the sellers, the Realtor, and Contractor L) or due to professional integrity (the lender, the lender’s assistant, the 2 outside inspectors, the HUD consultant, and the loan doc specialist). Dear heavens, that’s eleven people involved so far and all of them pulling their fair share of the work! But bringing in Contractor S was like having the odd-student-out assigned to a group of friends–they might possess a certain specific qualification needed to fulfill the assignment, but they’re not really all that invested in the process since their involvement is impersonal (in the student analogy, perhaps he plans to drop the course in a week, I don’t know…) .

After losing, all told, a week and a half to this delay, the people waiting on info from the new contractor have at least made contact with him. And, yes, I did try to express to him–both on the phone and in writing–the urgency of the situation, but I obviously didn’t get very far since it took a call from the lender’s assistant to actually see any progress. (Insert diatribe about being a woman dealing with the classic Southern good ol’ boys network and how being forceful gets you labeled as an uppity bitch while a man–hello, lender’s assistant–gets results. But, hey, if it continues to work, I’ll hold my tongue until the renovations are done. Mostly.)

So that’s where we’re at: the clock is ticking, we’ve had yet another setback but we’re still in the game. I remain cautiously optimistic (emphasis on the cautious) but I’m not breaking out the Champagne just yet.

Now, let’s see what tomorrow brings, shall we?

Know When to Hold ‘Em, Know When to Fold ‘Em

The Gingerbread Diaries

Time for another house update!

A couple of weeks ago I was getting ready to write a downer of a post. The good news was that the appraisal came in high enough for the roof repairs, the problem came with the mention of possible structural issues. And structural issues, regardless of cost, immediately take us out of the 203(k) Streamlined race and into the full shebang of 203(k) along with the need for a HUD Consultant and, because of the change in how the funds are disbursed (i.e., no up-front draws, only periodic draws based on work completed), the very real possibility of needing to change our contractor.

Despite the obvious gap between the pilaster and the porch, that corner is completely stable--we were hoping that would make it far more minor an issue.

Despite the obvious gap between the pilaster and the porch, that corner is completely stable–we were hoping that would make it far more minor an issue.

Cue freakout #I’ve-lost-count.

Underwriting demanded that we have a Structural Engineer evaluate the brick pilasters on the end of the addition (under the porch and laundry) to decide if there were, in fact, structural issues to be addressed and Todd thought it worthwhile to at least have it checked out–after all, knowing the structural integrity of the house we’re trying to buy seems like a good idea, right?

Let’s just total up the inspections we’ve now had on this house we don’t even own yet:

$275  Initial Buyer’s Inspection
$525  FHA Appraisal
$285  Structural Engineer Report
=====
$1085  Total Inspection Outlay

Unfortunately, we didn’t get the news we held out hope for: the pilasters did need work and there were a few other things to work out. And the seller was still adamant that they’d gone as low as they were willing to by accepting our initial offer (which was almost 10K under their list price) and that it was already priced to sell.

Damn.

So we did the only thing we could do: we walked away.

It was a very hard email to write, but we did it. And I almost felt better just being out of the limbo we’d been in for so very long on this project.

And then, in a move worthy of any used car lot in the country, the seller countered with an offer 10K lower than we’d originally settled on.

I was flabbergasted! Some say we called their bluff, but that implies there was a bluff to call. Others contend that the structural report finally convinced them of what they were trying to offload and what they’d have to ultimately do if they wanted to sell the home to anyone. The email I received made it sound like they wanted us to have it since we obviously loved it so much (which, yes, we do, but the timing is still a touch suspect).

Grinch-like compassion or desperation aside, this changed things more than I thought it would. It doesn’t change the fact that there are structural issues, but Todd seemed to think that the 10k wiggle room would be enough to make it doable. So the next morning I called our lender and asked if we could un-withdraw our application. Luck was on our side as the cancellation request hadn’t made it to the top of the queue and we were allowed to proceed, at least through the next hurdle.

And that hurdle come in the form of what amounts to a fourth inspection, this time with a HUD Consultant (who gets paid up-front) and the contractor in tow. Thankfully, our contractor was able to work with the changed disbursement schedule and stay on the project. This was such good news as we all remember the drama of trying to find a roofer at the beginning of this project! Our HUD Consultant pointed out a few more things than the FHA appraiser did (not that it was a big surprise) and then we were back to waiting for the contractor’s bid.

Of course, nothing can go smoothly and the loan was once again in peril once they were able to dig up the city property tax records (which are not available online anywhere–county and state are, for what it’s worth–making them damn hard for a prospective buyer to research) and the increase in the monthly mortgage cost was placing our DTI (debt-to-income) ratio close to the preferred threshold, before factoring in the additional renovation costs.

Thankfully (we had a lot of moments to be thankful during this process), that was before taking into consideration the lowered purchase price, so once the contractor’s new bid came in, we could run the numbers to see if there was any point in moving forward with the HUD write-up (another bit that gets paid on delivery instead of at closing, and whose fee is based on a sliding scale depending on the renovation amount). We caught a break and the bid came in below the appraiser’s estimated cost to cure (that phrase always makes me think of a house catching a cold), even with all of the HUD Consultant’s addition, and we got the “approvable” approval from the powers that be.

We’re not in for sure, yet–we’ve still got a few weeks until closing and the official underwriting approval to receive, but we’re a lot closer and, yes, a little more hopeful than we’ve been for the past month, truth be told.

If You Give a House a Roof…

The Gingerbread Diaries

It’s going to want a paint job.

Houses are Greedy Little Things, Aren't They?

Houses are Greedy Little Things, Aren’t They?

Or, it will if the current paint job is peeling and you’re going for an FHA renovation loan.

Welcome to buy-a-house limbo; but I may be getting ahead of myself.

At the last update we’d decided to pursue the renovation loan, but were planning to stay with the conventional loan for the better terms, etc. I keep saying plan like that means anything. Here’s what the process has looked like so far:

Plan A: Make an offer almost $10K below listing price, get a (potentially) great fixer-upper for an amazing price, fix it up over time at our own pace.
Plan B: Ask seller to replace the roof as it’s pretty much FUBAR as far as roofs go. (No go.)
Plan C: Reduce our offer another $10K and ask for closing costs to more accurately roll the cost of a new roof into what we originally were willing to pay for the house. (They weren’t thrilled with that idea, either.)
Plan D: Offer to raise our offer to “split” the cost of the new roof, as long as they put it on before closing. (This never got offered–they were adamant about as-is.)
Plan E: Stick with our original offer and seek a Conventional Renovation Loan with lowest-bidding roofer. (But said roofer couldn’t agree to do the job without some money up-front, and conventional doesn’t allow that.)
Plan F: Stick with our original offer and seek a Conventional Renovation Loan with a slightly higher-bidding roofer. (Only, he never got back to me after I sent him the contractor packet from the bank.)
Plan G: Switch to an FHA 203(k) Streamlined Renovation Loan to go back to the lower-bidding roofer so he can get 35% of his fee up-front.

And while, yes, there is theoretically a Plan H, I don’t even know if it’s feasible or what it would entail. That’s a lot of plans in less than a month, no?

The other up-side to going FHA (despite the PMI–Private Mortgage Insurance–and additional front-loaded interest) is that it reduced the minimum down-payment. While going conventional is always ideal, the total renovation cost on top of the planned down-payment was eating away at our buffer for that “squeak zone” we knew we’d have. It’s a short-term value, true, but we’re still looking at a mortgage that’s slightly over half our current rent for twice the house (and the ability to accrue equity). There was an unintended consequence of switching to an FHA loan, though: the FHA-level inspection!

By the way, for a Renovation Loan, the “Total Cost of Renovation” is more than just the contractor’s bid. Here’s how my loan consultant broke it down for me (fees as estimated by Wells Fargo, January 2014–just in case someone finds this list on a search, later):

  1. Contractor’s Bid
  2. 10% Contingency Fund (which gets applied to the principal if there’s anything unused at the end of the renovations)
  3. Feasibility Study ($430 Conventional, $600 FHA–though we were able to skip this because we’re doing a Streamlined Reno; i.e. under $30K)
  4. Inspection Fee (~$200, though you may need to allow for multiple inspections, costing more, depending on the scope of the renovation)
  5. Final Title Inspection (~$150)
  6. Draw Center Fee (between $350 and $750, and covers the department handling the disbursements for the renovation loan)

Acknowledging that this could have been 100% my misunderstanding, I was under the distinct impression that with a Conventional Renovation Loan, we could choose to just replace the roof and still handle the rest of the needed improvements on our own, over time–like I said, I’m no longer sure that was the case, but it was the theory we’d been operating on. Because the FHA requires homes they back to meet certain health and safety standards, things like peeling paint and others will be noted as part of the appraisal. And (the other shoe dropping on this front) anything on the appraiser’s report MUST be included in the scope of the work the contractor is providing. The seller can’t fix them, and neither can we: the contractor has to do it.

Consider that my ohshit! moment at the end of the hour-long application call. Cue my freak-out of what the appraiser might deem necessary and how much that might push up the renovation costs. If the total cost of renovations goes above $30K, we can  no longer do the streamlined reno-loan (not to mention it would be pushing up into price discomfort area, and we’d have to consider–again–walking away). Plus, streamlined or no, the total cost of the home + renovations cannot be more than 95% of the projected home appraisal (value after needed repairs). That’s a lot of ifs, buts, and maybes–hence the limbo period we’re in until the appraisal comes in and our contractor is validated/gets us an updated estimate.

After my initial freak-out, though, I started to look at the additional renovations as a good thing (provided we can swing the deal at all): the items most likely to be on the appraiser’s report are the things we’d most likely consider triage-worthy on our own, repairs and improvements we’d be trying to make immediately after putting up the down-payment and closing costs when money would likely be tight. While financing some of these things might not be ideal, they would give us more breathing room as far as major systems go. (I still don’t completely see how peeling paint is a safety issue if the paint isn’t lead-based, but whatever…)

And speaking of paint: did you know that peeling paint will prevent you from getting home owner’s insurance with many companies? And if not that, the fact that your home has an open crawl space higher than 2-feet will exclude you from others–even if the company already insures the home in its current state!

If I thought getting roofing estimates was ridiculous, the hunt for an insurance policy/agent was maddening!

Perhaps I was too honest (though most policies require an eyes-on inspection of the property, and omitting details will get said policy swiftly canceled), but most places I called wouldn’t quote the home while it was under renovation. Then there were the aforementioned crawlspace and roof issues, plus the lack of smoke detectors (seriously, the previous folks took them with them as we can clearly see where they used to be). Meanwhile, our loan consultant was adamant that we just choose an agent and she’d be able to get the insurer to understand the type of policy (Builder’s Risk) we’d need and get it smoothed over.

Our heads have been spinning!

Our heads have been spinning!

But how could I pick an agent when I couldn’t even get a quote to decide who was going to be able to offer us a decent rate?! The most common situation involved not being able to get insurance until the roof was replaced, but we can’t replace the roof until we buy the home, but we can’t buy the home until we get insurance on it–maddening I tell you!

Finally, I got one agent to quote me a Fire-1 policy through Foremost (a subsidiary of Farmers who seems to take the properties Farmers won’t), only it would only be good while the home was unoccupied–Foremost can’t write policies for occupied homes in the state of Georgia. (And the policy was going to cost almost $2K for that dubious privilege.) Finally, one local agent that couldn’t help us directly referred me to a former coworker who now works for Farm Bureau and can write policies through the state-sponsored insurer–aka the last resort of the property-damned.

She could at least quote us a Rehab policy that was only a quarter of Foremost’s Fire-1 option (before adding contents, at least), and explained that–at least in Georgia–you can’t have 2 policies on the same home (unlike the earlier direction to get HOI plus a Builder’s Risk rider or whatever). Either way we’d be converting the policy from rehab to full coverage, but this might be the lesser of the two faint options we had. Especially considering we have to pre-pay the first year’s coverage (even though we’ll be changing the policy one the work is done and moving in) and bring 2-3 months of the next year’s premium as cushion for the escrow account; essentially pre-paying 15 months. (And, no, that wasn’t how it used to be, this is apparently something that’s changed in the last few years.)

But, hey, at least I had my options–few though they were–and I felt a little better about naming our agent as part of the application process. As of the end of last week our application had been sent to underwriting for initial review, and we’ve received our conditional approval. The past week of waiting, even with the assurance that the loan “looks good” on paper by our consultant, has kept me from spending too much time planning for our new home. I’m wary of getting my hopes up with the appraisal findings still an unknown, and the contractor rebid on top of that.

Buying a house is a lot of hoops to jump through, we knew that. It just feels like the hoops are flaming and I’ve got lead weights tied to my feet! Still, a friend reminded me of a quote from The Last Lecture:

The brick walls are there for a reason. The brick walls are not there to keep us out; the brick walls are there to give us a chance to show how badly we want something. The brick walls are there to stop the people who don’t want it badly enough. They are there to stop the other people!

This is us showing how badly we want this house!