The house hunt that wasn't.
So maybe , just maybe , the thought of driving 7 hours to Tampa on Saturday, meeting with just 3 realtors and finding a home to rent was just a tad ambitious, even for us. The first home was BEAUTIFUL, but the locals had warned us that although the area was safe, it was a heck of a commute for Greg. We had high hopes as we whizzed past suburbia and all the conveniences I have come to enjoy. It became rural, more rural, and then we started to laugh as we turned from road to road, convinced that GPS had failed us and gotten us lost. All we saw was strawberry fields and run-down trailers used by migrant workers. Oh and pitbulls. Lots of pitbulls guarding the shacks. Nothing says "welcome to the neighborhood" like pitbulls. And then, right smack next to a row of rusty trailers and barking pitbulls, was a BEAUTIFUL home. With a fenced yard. A pool, and a covered lanai. Ahem. Needless to say, we didn't even get out of the car. We called the realtor and told her not to bother. ...