What I learned buying a home in Houston
I knew when I took a job across the country in April 2020 that I was in for a wild ride, and the experience did not disappoint.
The pandemic stretched on, the housing market went through the roof and don’t get me started on Houston’s freeways. They don’t make them like that in Massachusetts.
Through it all, I managed to sell my home in the Northeast and buy one here in Houston. I learned a lot along the way, both about my new city and this strange moment in housing history.
The city’s neighborhoods are changing, perhaps none faster than those east of downtown. EaDo came highly recommended by colleagues who hailed it as hip, largely flood-safe and affordable, but the latter part changed before our eyes. As I shopped last year, even homes without central air or that otherwise needed major repairs were listed at the upper end of my price range. And list prices in the East End are only a starting point — I recently looked at one home on a transitioning block that was listed at $300,000. It went under contract within days of going on the market and sold for $360,000.
It taught me it takes time, persistence and a willingness to buck trends — or pay up — to find something in this market. After six months, I finally gave up on finding a home I could afford in the East End. And forget about coveted Montrose. I thought I’d buy a home in Houston by September at the latest,
but I didn’t close on my place in Willow Meadows until Dec. 17. It was disheartening at times, but just when I was ready to give up, a cozy house I’d seen weeks before crept back into my mind and the rest is history.
I was surprised by how many Houston neighborhoods sit squarely in the flood plain — even some of the wealthiest communities. Seasoned Houstonians know this, of course, but I hail from a land of zoning where building in flood plains is expressly forbidden. After one seller lied about his property never having flooded, I learned to plug every address I was interested in into floodfactor.com, which approximates where floodwaters have risen in the
past, and consult Harris County flood maps to see where each stood in 100- and 500-year zones. Also: I learned that even if I made peace with living in the flood plain, flood insurance premiums could swoop in and disrupt that peace.
Floods aren’t the only thing to worry about. After last year’s February freeze, galvanized pipes are a dealbreaker for many buyers, I learned. Frigid temps knocked out power for several days for millions of homes in Texas, exposing pipes to subfreezing temps for long enough that many froze and burst, wreaking widespread havoc on homes in Houston. Now that so many of us have that recent experience, buyers want to
know the plumbing has been redone with freeze-resistant PEX, a polyethylene plastic, and sellers know they’re going to have to do it or make concessions if the pipes are made with more-susceptible galvanized steel.
Everything from paint and lumber to even toilet brushes cost more than I expected. For that we can blame supply shortages and inflation. Cleaning day came and I strolled through Target to find only two toilet brushes left on the shelf. Their price: $25 each. Shocked, I stared at them and their sticker for around 10 minutes before surrendering to the inevitable: I bought the ridiculously priced toilet brush. Just one — not two
to match my number of toilets — because I couldn’t bring myself to spend $50 on plastic toilet brushes.
Another unfortunate discovery: So-called scammers have evolved from individuals with bad intentions to seemingly legitimate companies trying to trick you into sending mortgage money to the wrong place. A flood of junk mail started hitting my mailbox as soon as I closed on the house, including letters from companies purporting to be taking over my mortgage on behalf of my lender. One looked so credible I called the number, only to be offered an extended car warranty.