Crack(s) Kills... Concrete Foundations, that is.

When looking for a home, our awesomely-wonderful, hardworking and honest Realtor named Perry Flowers--I kid you not, that is his name--pointed out vital information about the houses we looked at for possible purchase.

He showed us the warning signs of damaged or poor roof and chimney construction, and he advised us on homes that had cracked foundations from the earth shifting (expanding/contraction) due to the clay soil here in North Texas.

There were houses we looked at that had lifted or slanting tile; he even rolled a marble down a hallway to show how a home that we really liked wouldn't be the wisest choice for our new home. He also showed us slight cracks in the ceiling or chimneys that were warning signs that the property we were viewing wasn't for us.

On the last home we inspected, we fell in love with a home because it was everything I had asked for: one story, brick-dairy exterior, land for our dogs to run around, plus no evidence of cracked foundation or roof leaks, and it had only been on the market for two days. We put in our bid and it was accepted shortly after.

When we arrived, there had been plenty of rain, so the yards and fields were green with with beautiful wildflowers. But, now, it has been over 21 days without rain and the clay soil is shriveling up like chapped lips in the sun.

Here are two of what I mean:

   

The ground swells when it rains and cracks when it's dry. As I stare hopelessly at the widening crevasses, I understand how Billie Joe felt in Karen Hess's book Out of the Dust.