Friday, December 25, 2009

Here it is, Christmas morn and I’m Blogging. What else do you do at 5am? (most people sleep, I know)
I went to my Mom’s last night for Christmas Eve. My cat, Billy was out and as much as I called there was neither hide nor hair of him. I did have a lovely evening of munchies and chat…even though on the drive home I realized I had left my Mom’s main gift under my tree. When I arrived home two of my kids had arrived and were waiting for me. I asked if Billy had come in. My son Kevin informed me he hadn’t seen him. Instant panic, on my part! I looked out the back door to find bloody paw prints and drips of blood all over the patio (sorry for the gore). I was horrified. I frantically called for him but he did not come. Then Kevin spotted him. Billy was just laying on one of the outdoor pillows from my chair. I picked him up carefully and animal doctor that I am (I did actually, at one time, work for a vet), made my daughter Heather hold him down while I put peroxide on the bitten area. I could swear all I use peroxide for is my cats. After the howling and squirming, the poor guy was spent. He went on my daughter’s bed and that is where he still is. Why do animals decide to do stupid things when you can’t get them to an Animal Hospital? I’ll have to nurse him today, along with the festivities of present opening, entertaining guests and making breakfast and dinner.

I traipsed over to my neighbors last night to give them a bottle of wine and say Merry Christmas. The hubby put his arm around my shoulder and thanked me for taking the tree down between our houses. (I guess that counts them out them paying for the tree removal) I still haven’t got a bill for the tree falling.

I was supposed to have a new contractor come on Thursday to look at my house but he called twice to say he was stuck at a job he was finishing up and couldn’t make it. It will have to be next week sometime.
Both my “how to” books have been shipped so I am waiting on the edge of my seat for those. I’m hoping to see them before I have to go back to work so I have time to read them.

Well, it’s time for more coffee and to get more peroxide and rags….
Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!....except me. For me it’s morning and has been since 4:45am.

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Always go with your gut. I’m talking to myself here. I’m doing my best to lick my wounds because I was almost taken back to the den of wolves to be eaten alive. Oh yes, I had been bitten but I escaped less a few teeth marks and a C note. What the hell am I talking about, you ask?
Well, remember the guy who was going to give my boiler a tune up and clean my hot water tank? It was a scam. Luckily I was getting suspicious and phoned a reputable company here in my hometown. I’m getting one of their technicians to come and take a look at my boiler to see if it really does need replacing or a repair. Well if it does need a repair, hopefully not one that would have cost me a grand. The reputable heating company I called knew about the rip off technician that came to my house and informed me my boiler was working at 30% capacity. He actually guessed the scam company name. Let’s just say I talked to this so called company on the phone after and gave them a piece of my mind. I’m pretty sure I won’t be hearing from them again. I may just call Master Card and refuse to pay the bill. He was supposed to be here 1 ½ hours cleaning. He was here all of 20 minutes and didn’t clean my hot water tank because I had an insulator on it.
Buyers beware! Even BBB isn't reliable.

I received my quote back for my windows and doors to be replaced. The nice gentleman came last week to measure. The quote is for top of the line windows and was less than I thought it would be. That’s not to say it’s cheap, just less. I had a few questions but haven’t heard back from him yet. I also got talking to him about renovating my house and he forwarded my name onto yet another contractor. He will be coming next Wednesday. He couldn’t say enough good things about him.

My daughter is contacting a friend of hers who can draft house plans, hopefully for little money. I also have another draftsman coming tomorrow. Don’t fret, it’s a free consultation. I’m big on free. Learning for free is even better.

On another note, my Christmas shopping is now complete. I even made gingerbread men (and ladies) this morning. All that’s left to do is ice them and adorn them with Smarties. I should have made some house shaped gingerbread cookies too…or should I say Atomic Ranch shaped ones. Jim, can you make Atomic Ranch cookies cutters? You’re so capable! The same design as the Atomic Ranch birdhouse you made me (picture coming)…or if you can’t, I’m betting one of your best buds is a metal fabricator somewhere in Kitchener ☺ You’re such a sweetie and I might add a great net worker!

Sunday, December 20, 2009

The remains of the dead tree have disappeared from my side yard. I know that doesn’t sound exciting but I thought I’d start with the only really great news I had yesterday. As you know I had a guy come to clean the boiler and hot water tank. Deep down, I knew what was coming. Apparently the unit is only working at about 30% capacity. Ouch! To repair it would be about a grand but would only be a band-aid solution. I asked how much a new boiler would be. $4,500.00. Hmmm, that’s a lot less than I thought it would be. I’m going to think about it for a few days and then probably bite the bullet.

The 5th contractor also came yesterday. He was a very nice, and I might add, humble individual who didn’t go around my house huffing and puffing and making a big deal out of things. I showed him some rot in the floor in the bathroom and his response was…that’s an easy fix. I asked about cutting around the beams in the ceiling for drywall since the last contractor made a big deal about that saying it was a lot more work. This guy again said naaa, no big deal. He told me drywall installation and taping is about $3.50 a square foot. This information helped me figure out what that would cost for my house. I worked it out to be around 10 grand. The one thing he couldn’t do was give me an exact amount at the moment for my house reno, although I do like the way he explained how they work, which is on a cost plus basis. He would show me the bills for items as they come in. They also break it down into rooms, which makes it easier to cut a room out to bring the cost down. He let me know I could buy fixtures where I wanted to. He sounded very easy to work with. He did tell me he thought the electrical would be approximately $10,000. That was bang on what I thought it would be. The one thing I didn’t like that he said but which made sense was, I should get my plans drawn up professionally. This does two things. It makes for a clearer picture of what the contractor has to do, which helps with costing and it is also is a requirement for permits. He told me I could draw it myself, which I’ve done. But the more accurate it is the better. The bad news is that it will cost me $3,000. to $5,000 to get it done. That doesn’t thrill me. Needless to say I was online last night looking for a computer program that I could use to do it myself. I did like this contractor, although I wish I could have gotten even more information from him. The great thing was his company is so busy they wouldn’t be able to fit me in until summer. This was another really good sign. Always pick a busy contractor! Even I know that!

Once again I was up at the crack of dawn drawing my house. I figured out all the costs a little more accurately. Now I think I have a better idea of the amount I should be looking for from a contractor.

I’m going to take a deep breath and let it go for the rest of the day. How do I do that? Why, I will do what any girl would do… go shopping.

Saturday, December 19, 2009

Today is going to be a busy day. I have people coming to pick up the remains of the tree crowding the space beside my house. I also have people coming to clean my boiler and hot water tank. Yes, I know. I lead an exciting life. The most important thing that’s happening today and the thing that I’m most anxious about is I have contractor #5 coming over to take a look at my digs. I’m a sad case really because what should be on the forefront of my mind is getting my act together for Christmas. I’ve done minimal Christmas shopping and haven’t even planned the menu for dinner. Luckily I’m off of work now until January.
My Daughter Megan recommended the contractor who is going to be here today. She is a friend of his wife’s and he comes with good credentials. I’m trying to stay positive. That’s all I’ve got is my attitude.

It has been suggested by someone, and you know who you are, that I be my own contractor and hire sub-trades to do the work in my house. This is a very valid suggestion and I appreciate the advice and the encouragement I’ve been given to do this myself. I have taken steps to go in that direction if need be. In true form I’ve ordered a few books off Amazon on how to be your own contractor. I’ve always been one to learn things from non-fiction. My motto?...when in doubt…turn to Amazon. I believe I’ve got more “how to” books than any other human on the planet. I have to be honest here and tell you I am apprehensive about being my own contractor. Obviously my reasoning involves fear. Big life choices typically do.

Minuses of being my own contractor

1. I don’t know a lot about construction
2. I don’t know if I have the time that’s necessary to be my own contractor re: my job
3. I am impatient and I don’t know if I can live through a renovation for an extended period of time. (I’ve heard the horror stories and I’m just being honest)
4. I don’t think it’s as easy as it portrays itself to be (rarely anything this big is)

On the other hand there are big pluses to being my own contractor.

1. I would learn a lot
2. I would probably have more to write about on this Blog
3. I would hopefully save money which would let me do more with the house
4. I would gain lots of valuable experience
5. I would feel more in control of what was being done in my house
6. I would have the satisfaction of knowing I can do it!!

The books are on their way.

Ps…I still haven’t had a bill from the Tree Cutter!

Friday, December 18, 2009

Well, here it is a week before Christmas and I still haven’t picked a contractor to do my renovations. I have sketched my house plan I’m guessing maybe 50 times. I know where I want my new walls. How my new kitchen and bathrooms will be arranged. I know the color of the cabinets and counter tops. The flooring. The style of light fixtures I want and where they will be placed. I’ve window shopped for plumbing fixtures. The garage door has been chosen and quoted. Yes, you could say I am more organized and decisive in that area than most people who are starting a reno. To date I’ve had four sets of contractors in my home. Honestly, the last contractor I had here, I really thought I was going to go with. I liked him. He was confident and I got along with him well.

After all the experience with contractors I’ve had in my home I’ve broken it down like this….

I think choosing a contractor is a lot like picking a mate. The chemistry has to be there. The feeling has to be right. Trust and reliability play a major roll in the decision. They have to understand you and when they do understand you, they have to accept you. Although money plays definite role in any husband/wife relationship, the one thing that’s different with the contractor/client one is…. I’m the only one forking out the dough. There’s no equal part in this regard. No sharing of the household expenditures. No, I’ll pay the mortgage and you pay for the groceries and gas bill…. So with that one fact in mind, yes, I am indeed their proverbial Sugar Mama. The contractor/client relationship is likened to having a giant honey-do list where the contractor can never feed you this next line….
“Hun, I don’t feel like fixing the toilet and putting in a new tap set. I’m going golfing with the guys, I’ll do it next weekend.”
Let me just say that this above statement just doesn’t fly when your hard earned cash somehow makes it’s way into their pocket book. By now you know I don’t like freely dishing out my money. That’s not to say I won’t, but there has to be good reason. If I’m going to pay for something it better be a fair price and it better be exactly what I was expecting.

What’s happened so far…..

Contractor #1 – I had these guys in prior to purchasing my home. At this point I pretty well knew what I wanted. I’ve tweaked it a bit from then but not a lot. This quote was a less than I thought it would be. They were more into drywall and finishing than the complete package.

Contractor #2 – This was the jerk I told you about who walked around with his chest puffed out like he was the, be all, end all of contractors. I also suspected he went behind my back to put an offer on this house to steal it. His quote came in for the interior of the home at around 10% - 15% higher than the first contractor quote.

Contractor # 3 - I haven’t mentioned him in my Blog yet. Peter was the one who fixed my leaking chimney in my last house. A friend, specifically for my chimney job, referred him to me. While he was fixing my chimney we got talking about my post and beam and he let me know he and his partner also did renovations. When I moved into my Atomic Ranch he brought his partner over to go through the house to do a quote. His partner looked a little scared of the amount of work that needed to be done. The quote came back, very late I might add and was very lax in what the price included. The price was a little more than my very first quote but was fair. I asked Peter for a more detailed quote into what was included for the price. It was taking forever to get that back as well. In the end I received a call from Peter saying he was very disappointed in his partner and that he was going to refer me to another contractor who he knew. This is where

Contractor # 4 comes in - This is the contractor I thought would be my Knight in shining Armor. The one who could deliver what I wanted for my house for a fair price. The one I could trust. The one who would be honest to this fair Maiden. He was going to be my Mike Holmes and make everything right….

After I got his verbal quote back, which was double what my very first quote was on the house I’m questioning everything! I asked him to write me up a quote explaining where my money was going. His exact words were… “I’m not spending my time writing up a quote if I’m not going to get the job”.
What!!! Are you freaking kidding me? I thought. I basically told him I wasn’t accepting any quote until I knew exactly what I was getting…ON PAPER! I’m not going to go into the costs here but lets just say I was pretty sure I wasn’t getting a fair deal for what he was going to give me.

I was now at the point where I’m sure any single girl would be

Yes, I was upset
Yes, I was panicking
Yes, I needed advise
Yes, I questioned whether buying my beloved Post and Beam was a costly mistake

Thursday, December 17, 2009

The dead tree

Before and during the time I was waiting for my gas fireplace to be installed I also had a few other things on the go. One of them, and the most pressing at the time, was getting the dead tree down beside my house. I called a few companies to find out about getting a quote. Most of the places I called forced me to leave a message and surprisingly, I never received a return call or when I did get a hold of someone they said they would come out to take a look at the tree and never showed up. This also included “Dan the Tree Man”. The name my neighbors gave me. Finally, after calling about five companies I hit the jackpot! I actually found someone to bless me with they’re presence and come out to quote hacking the tall dead pine tree to the ground. They tucked the quote into my mailbox while I was at work. The quote I got was $550.00 to take it down. The brush taken off and the trunk cut in chunks. If I wanted it all hauled away it was another $300.00. I thought the quote was pretty fair but decided I’d get a few more quotes for good measure. Again, I did my best to inconvenience someone to come and look at my tree. In the mean time we had some crazy windstorms. The first of four was the scariest for me. All I could think about was this dead tree crushing my daughter while she slept. It was beside her room. I knew I had to find a brawny lumberjack quick! Well, I tried a few more companies, but try as I may it was getting harder to find someone just to get their ass here. I finally ended up calling the guy back who quoted me. About two weeks had gone by but he remembered me. I told him I would like him to take the tree down and then suddenly the phone went dead. I had assumed our call was disconnected by accident so I called him right back. I got his message machine and asked him to return my call so we could set up a date.
I didn’t hear back!
Was I cursed?
I was back to square one. We had some more windstorms, my fireplace was installed and I still had no Paul Bunyan. Finally, one morning I saw an ad on my doorstep. It was actually a coupon for a tree cutter. $50.00 off $500.00 or more. I called. He answered. He came out the next day. Wow, I thought. My luck has finally turned.
When I arrived home from work he was already there. It looked as though he was talking to my neighbor to whom the tree sat next to. I went inside and waited for him to come over. Finally, there was a knock on my door. I asked him how much and was absolutely flabbergasted with his response. $850.00 just to get it to the ground. This did not include taking the tree away. I outright told him that was too much. He said it was a tough job because of the distance between the neighbor and my house, the tiny space he had to work in and the fact that the tree was dead. I quickly told him I was quoted $550.00 for the same job. His response was that the quote I received wasn’t from an insured tree cutter. I assured him it was. He stepped away from my door and I actually thought I had insulted him and he was leaving. He walked to the middle of my front yard to gaze at the tree again. He cocked his head from side to side hesitated and told me he would do it for $750.00. I told him I’d call him back if I decided to go with him.
I never intended to.

Next morning there was a message on my cell phone. I guess he had called me that evening but I didn’t hear it. Basically the message was that he doesn’t usually do this (ya, right) but he would match the price of the other tree cutter because he didn’t want me to be unsafe by having someone who wasn’t insured cutting the tree down. I listened to the message again, smiled to myself and called him back. He said he would be out the following Monday.
Monday came and Monday went. Typical, I thought. He probably changed his mind.
I ended up calling him on Tuesday and asked him what day he would be doing it. He informed me that now Friday would be the day he would come. I asked if I had to be there. He said no. I thought that was odd because I assumed he would want payment right away. That alone made me suspect he would not show and I quickly imagined myself flipping through the yellow pages and searching the internet once again.

Friday came and it just happened to be the day I was picking up my significant someone from the airport. Interestingly enough, his brother actually cuts trees for a living so I had been telling both of them the story of the fly-by-night tree cutters I had come into contact with. I had actually forgot about the tree trimmer coming that day and when we arrived to my post and beam from the airport I took him around the back of the house to take a look at my backyard. He asked me where this “dead tree” was.
I looked up as I started to say…
“It’s right”…but I was dumbfounded…"holy crap", I said. We walked around to the side of the house and low and behold there lie the chunks of trunk. I can't even begin to tell you how elated I was. Weird thing was though, there was no bill in my mailbox and Mr. Tree Cutter didn’t call me. Here it is now Thursday. Almost a week later and I still haven’t heard hide nor hair from this guy. I’m hoping it’s a Christmas present from him.

I must add here that the first guy who quoted me called me back yesterday. He apologized for not returning my call sooner and cheerfully wanted to know when he could come to take down my tree.
As he was talking I was thinking, really buddy. Are you &*@#*% kidding me?
I felt like vocalizing my mind but all I calmly said was, "It’s down".
I could hear the defeat in his voice as he said, “Oh, okay bye”.

Another note to self: Never completely count on a guy with an axe to grind.

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Chimney Sweeping...Not magical like the movie Mary Poppins

I’ve never dealt with a Chimney Sweep before. I’ve never had reason to. I scoured online for my best option. There were a few but the one that had a website struck my eye. Even the name of the company was comforting. Father and Son Chimney Sweeping. It denotes a feeling of trustworthiness, doesn't it? I rang them up and made an appointment for a consultation. I didn’t get the Father or the Son at my door, but an employee. He was a really nice guy. Now, I must add, this wasn’t a sweeping it was only a pre-sweeping consultation. After he inspected everything he told me they couldn’t fit me in for a chimney sweep for at least a month (they were that busy). Damn, I wanted my insert to be in. Winter was coming and I couldn’t get a fireplace insert until I had that chimney swept. He kindly told me to call another company but warned me about the scams that some Chimney Sweeps lay on unsuspecting individuals.
He said, “Your chimney looks fine.” “Don’t let anyone tell you different.”
I was again grateful and felt like I had the Chimney Fairy watching over me. I called another company close to home. He came out that week.
Now, opposite to Father and Son Chimney Sweep, this guy was short a few bricks. (Sounds like a pun again, doesn't it?) He was messy, disorganized and too chatty. He said the chimney was really dirty and also informed me he wouldn’t be surprised if it had never been swept. That I believed! As he used his chimney brush, huge chunks of creosote fell from the chimney into the fireplace (a very flammable substance). After he left and unfortunately after I knew about all his marital issues (ugghh), I set aside an old piece of cut plywood to put over the gaping hole to keep the impending draft out until my fireplace insert would come. I also had a roaring wood fire in the fireplace that night. It was great, but as romantic as a wood burning fireplace is, it stinks the next day. I had pondered not getting an insert prior to purchasing the house and was just going to use the fireplace as it had been intended, with wood and matches. After that night I knew without a doubt, I had made the right decision to get a gas insert.

I had already picked out my new fireplace insert. I knew the style, make and model. Some people would call me a freak, but I had done my research before I had even purchased this house. I called up the company I had visited in the summer and made an appointment for the rep to come and measure and give me a “real price”. I had already put aside about five grand for my fireplace. This was partly a buffer in case it actually needed real brick work done to it prior to the gas insert being installed. Happily, my fireplace brick didn’t need work, so that was a savings right off the top. But to my chagrin, this company was busy too. Was everyone getting a fireplace at the same time as me? He had a really difficult time slotting me into his appointment book. I could hear him frantically flipping the pages of his daytimer as I hung on the other side of the line. He finally squeezed me in but couldn’t make it out to my place for almost another two weeks, and even at that, he would have to make my appointment time for 9 or 9:30 pm. Oh well, I wanted that fireplace and would have seen him at midnight if I’d had to.
He showed up on time. Measured. Quoted. I haggled. He shaved some money off. I ordered. It was done. The fireplace would be inserted in two more weeks, just into November. I was excited.
Unfortunately, the day before the installer and my fireplace were to show up, I received a call. The installer was ill and they would have to re-schedule. What??? I let my feelings be known and told them I was going on a business trip the next week and needed it in before then. Needless to say, it was installed in the next few days. Let me point out it’s beautiful. It’s warm and it doesn’t smell like I have been camping in my living room. I have been using it every day since it was installed and I love it! Who wouldn’t love it? I don’t have to be an avid Boy Scout, or in my case, Girl Scout to start it. All I do is press the remote button to turn it on and wah-la!, instant fire and warmth, not to mention the capability to adjust the flame.
It was official...I was now a pyromaniac.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Be gone!!

Okay, I had passed the point of moving and I had the fort in the backyard down. I was on track. I had my mental list of things to get done before the actual renovation. Here I was in the house just a few short days and one of those tasks was done. I don’t know about you but when I can strike an item off a to-do list it feels pretty damn good. This was of course not from my hammer but the brute strength and kindness of my neighbor. Still, it was accomplished.

Superman had left the four posts in the ground and the remains of the structure on my lawn. Now I had to figure out how to dispose of the hulking pile before me. Hmmm, I also had that unwelcome, big monstrosity of a wood fireplace insert to take out. I decided to call in the troops…“family and friends!”
I made chili the next weekend. Ralph, my Mom’s hubby, arrived with his trailer. We ate.
Hint: Making provisions is usually a good idea when people help you out. Plus, I was again thankful to have the aid of many hands.

The loading of the trailer began. Sounds like an event, doesn’t it? It was! Not only did we heave in the fort but also some odds and ends left by Rambo, like an old plywood trailer box, rotten wood, this and that’s made of metal….and lets not forget those Gawd awful curtains that were now retired from my sparkling clean, and I might add, single glazed windows. The task of the
4 X 4 posts in the ground was delegated to my daughter’s boyfriend, Kyle. We figured he had the brawn, experience and the age to dig. Two came out without too much trouble but the third just didn’t want to be taken down. Ralph, who by the way is amazing…. Here he is, about 70 years young and doing major manual labor. Ralph, not one for shying from work, decides to take matters into his own hands (literally) and wraps his arms around the post to wrestle it to the ground. They get into a battle of who’s stronger. I’m not sure who won here because the post snapped in half near the bottom and Ralph was thrown to the ground with the post on top of him. His head narrowly missed a nail protruding from one of the plywood pieces. Don't worry He was okay, less the wind knocked out of him. He was awarded hero of the day!
By the way, I made a quick decision and announced that the 4th post could stay. I would put a birdhouse on top of it. In my mind I was figuring it just wasn’t worth a death to have the final post removed.

Our first trip to the dump went without a hitch. No pun intended.
Second trip to the dump?, that’s another story. Apparently, we hadn’t broken the plywood from the old box trailer or some of the railing into small enough pieces and were not allowed to dump it into the bin. Well, breaking the railing was a fairly easy accomplishment . We did some amateur karate moves to get the pickets out (no, we didn’t bring tools. Why would we?) ….and…..Success!
But try as we may to break that plywood by way of twisting, jumping, levering and swearing, it just wouldn’t break. We would have to go back and use the chain saw to cut it down. It was getting late in the day. Would we have time to make another trip?
When we returned back to ground zero I looked online to see what time the transfer station was open till. Awesome! We had time. The plywood was buzzed down to manageable pieces and all remaining items were put into the trailer…including the giant fireplace insert. (I was going to try to sell it but decided I didn’t want to be bothered). Last call to the dump and recycling station and we were done, done, done. I had gotten my yard back and I was now ready for #3 on my lists of to-dos. A proper fireplace inspection because I wanted a gas insert put in.

Monday, December 14, 2009

Neighbors in the hood

I was truly aghast at the stories they told me. I’ve had neighbors in the past I haven’t been pleased with but my word, I felt for these people. It appeared that the couple on the North side of me felt the same way. This appeared to be a friendly, cozy neighborhood and it made me feel safe. I felt honored to have neighbors whom where so friendly and open. This really did feel like I had been transported back in time. A time when neighbors helped one another, had gettogethers, and lent a cup of sugar or a stick of butter at the drop of a hat.

We talked about the dead tree between our houses and I let them know I was going to phone around to have someone take it down. I felt it just wasn’t safe. November was coming fast and here in the lower mainland of Vancouver our November windstorms can be grizzly. It would be challenging to get that tree down. Paul Bunyan swinging his mighty axe to and fro would even find it a daunting task. The distance between their carport and my house was minimal and the tree sat smack dab in the middle. I imagined it would have to be taken down in chunks and lowered to the ground. My neighbors offered me a phone number, “Dan the tree man”. They suggested that because he had done work for them in the past he would be good for the job. The phone number would be forthcoming when they had a few moments to rummage it up.

We came full circle in conversation coming back to discussing the fort again. I told them that it was a bigger job than I thought. The metal roof was bolted down and I would need more tools. The husband, Brad, asked if he could come over and take a gander. I of course wouldn’t deny that. They were both so personable. A few moments later the around the corner they came bearing a sledgehammer, multiple wrenches and a large crowbar. To my disbelief Brad began ripping it down while “us women folk” stood back to cheer him on and to warn him of the impending dangers he seemed to just miss by way of nails and wobbly foundations. I felt guilty that he was doing all the work and I made a point of affirming that he didn’t have to do this. Did he need help? And wow, this isn’t taking you very long to take down. While Brad whacked the piece of junk to the ground I couldn’t help but think how lucky I was. This would have taken me forever to destroy and he, Superman in my eyes, had it leveled within a half hour. I was so grateful. But I couldn’t help but think they were also gratified,

1. To have the eyesore down, which by the way they could see from their yard
and
2. To now have a sane neighbor beside them.
It did cross my mind however, whether I was completely sane. I had just purchased a 1956 fix-it-upper to which I had no experience renovating. Damn, I didn’t even take down the 9 X 9 fort that now lay dead on my lawn.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Information

As I made my way up the ladder to the fort, FYI, it was on 4 X 4 posts. I soon realized this was going to be a bit more commitment than I had originally anticipated. Is this a sign of what was ahead with the new blue house too, I thought? Yup, most likely. With a positive attitude, I wasn’t going to give up. My hunger to rid my property of this deformed shelter was far out-weighing my hesitation to let it stay. I continued climbing. My eyes scanned the interior. Black graffiti blanketed the walls. I need not enlighten you with the wording; and cigarette butts where scattered on the plywood floors. The spray can rested on its side near one corner of this hideous structure. I stood there for a second looking out onto the yard like it was an observation tower. Okay I thought, here goes nothing… I began slamming out the slotted boards that made up the perimeter. It wasn’t long until My neighbor heard my banging and yelled over the fence. She asked if I wanted a sledge hammer. Knowing a regular hammer most likely wasn’t going to cut it for the whole dismantling, I agreed.

I must add here that I had met these neighbors prior to buying my dream home. I forgot to put this info in a previous post so I’ll insert it here….
I had met them about three weeks after I’d lost the salmon colored house next to them and about a week after Rambo had shot down my first offer on his.
My oldest daughter, Megan (garage sale Queen) found out that there was a garage sale on my street of dreams. She had informed me of this right in the middle of me teaching my Saturday morning fitness class….by the way, she was not participating but was so excited she had to let me know. Apparently, the sale was comprised of the contents of the salmon stucco house. This sale was being held apparently, at the neighbors next door and not the original owners. Needless to say, I couldn’t wait to finish my class. I went to the sale right after, sweaty and I might add probably ripe. I pulled up in front of the house. Their driveway was filled with familiar furniture I’d seen a few weeks prior. I was excited. I may not be able to have the salmon house but I sure in hell was going to have a crack at purchasing some of the contents of it. Megan had already been there. She had first dibs on the treasures. She had also talked to my future neighbors so they knew who I was when I arrived. She had told them the story of my attempt to purchase both the salmon house and the blue house.
I quickly scoured the items and set aside the gems I wanted to purchase. I chit chatted with the nice couple about trying to get into their neighborhood. I told them I had put an offer on the blue house but that the asking price was just too much. The husband took both my hands in his and pleaded, “Please, please buy the blue house”. I chuckled quietly. We discussed Rambo in low tones. They seemed to dislike him. It sounded as though Mr. Blue house was not in the running for neighbor of the year. They also mentioned the huge dead tree between their property and and the blue house. It was definitely a sore spot for them. All in all I really liked them. It made me want the blue house more but I wasn’t willing to pay more than it was worth.

Okay, that said, lets get back to the “fort story”.
I made my way over to the fence between us to retrieve their sledge hammer. I asked them if they remembered me from the garage sale. Apparently, when the sold sign went up, they had asked a Realtor down the street to find out if I, the blonde woman, was the one who had purchased it. So indeed, the answer was yes, they remembered me. They informed me that when the sold sign went up on the lawn, Rambo stormed into the back yard and had a fit. He was screaming at the top of his lungs, stating he had been robbed. He had ranted on about how he could have gotten more money for his house (insert profanity here) and how he was going to take the (more profanity) real estate agent and the agency to court. Okay, this guy was obviously a bit more unstable than I had realized. They also began to enlighten me with some of the stories about Rambo and his family and they even said they had even considered pooling money with the other neighbors to purchase the blue house. Wow, how interesting was this? As these stories spilled from their lips, guess what my first thought was? Hmmm, let’s see…..GET MY BLOODY LOCKS CHANGED?!!
Hmmm, YA, THINK?!!!

Saturday, December 12, 2009

breaking in the new place

We got all our stuff packed up, cats and all and we were on our way. My daughter would meet me at the new house and I would pick up the key and meet her there. I was there in a blink of an eye. I parked, jumped out of the car and went for the entrance. I slipped the key into the lock and opened the door. I felt like it was like opening a new chapter in my life, or should I say, almost like a new novel. A novel where you love the author and can’t wait to find out more as you turn each page.

We walked inside and true to our word headed straight to the living area and literally tore down the curtains. Light flooded the room. I could swear I heard the windows heave a sigh of relief! We did the same in all the rooms. The dust collectors were designated for the bin in record time.

It was a little unfortunate but the weather decided it wasn’t going to behave and we had a bit of a downpour for our move in. I was pleased however when I saw how my furniture looked in my new castle. It was starting to look more and more like the pages in Atomic Ranch. Yes, it needed a lot more work but hell, it looked a million times better than Rambo had dressed the mid century charmer. Just the missing deer heads and antlers that had bedecked the halls was enough to make the place look like a palace!

I worked dawn till dusk to get things put away within a couple of days. By the way my cats survived. They had even been outside and were getting familiar with all the new places they had to discover. It actually took no time at all for them to adapt. I worried for absolutely nothing….typical.
Luckily, I had taken a couple of days off work to get my life into some kind of order. I needed it. I quickly learned some of the quirks of the house. The first thing I learned? The electrical sucked! There were two outlets in the kitchen, damn! And the bathrooms?, absolutely no outlets. How did people survive in the fifties? I guess they let their hair dry naturally and used manual razors. After the inside was a little under control I made my way outside into my park like setting. There was one big drawback to the yard. The wretched fort that was almost in reach of the kitchen window. That was my second order of business. It was coming down. Fully prepared, bearing my flip flops and toting my hammer I made my way outdoors to start ripping it down.

Friday, December 11, 2009

The joy of moving

It was finally moving day. Although I should say, moving is not really something you do in one day. It’s many days. In actual fact it’s months.

1. The pre-move packing.
2. The shoving of furniture and boxes into the moving van.
3. The unpacking into the new home.
4. The organizing after moving.

Okay, I’d done the pre-move packing and now it was time to shove the furniture and boxes into the trucks. All I can say is thank God I upgraded one of the trucks to a bigger model. We just fit everything in…and I mean just. My son-in-law, Ryan was great! I could have bowed down and kissed his feet for orchestrating everything. He was the Ring Leader and told us clowns where to, how to, and what to pack in first, second and third. I would have probably needed 4 trucks if I’d been in charge. A word of advice…study up on how to pack up a moving van. It will save you time, money and frustration. We did the major amount of pack up in late afternoon into the evening. It was dark when we decided to call it a day. We then had the first part of morning to finish up the odds n’ ends.

All that was left in my house that evening was my mattress on my bedroom floor. Everyone was gone. It was strange and a little eerie to sleep in the empty house for the last time and the tough part was, I knew that the following night I’d be sleeping in a motel, not my new home.

Morning arrived along with my son-in-law Ryan and good friend Terry. We packed up the stragglers that remained in the garage, along with my mattress. We had left the chest freezer until last. That was fun!
Note to self: Remember to plug it back in.
The weather had been good to us. The rain held off and everything went according to plan. Last thing to do was to get my cats into cages. I had borrowed the confines from my daughter and my Mom. Although, I believe I did most of the worrying for them, let me say, that the moving process for animals is a traumatic event. Of course they are like part of the family and I didn’t want to lose them or freak them out too much. They are outdoor cats, not really cat box trained I might add. My plan was to sneak them into the hotel room to save them from being in the animal hospital overnight. Honestly, I didn’t know how they were going to react being confined in a hotel room and using kitty litter instead of the neighbor’s garden. I could just imagine them howling in the middle of the night and waking other guests. The guests would then complain to management and we would be escorted out of the hotel with no place to go.
Senseless pre-worry…I know.

The trucks were parked at my oldest daughter’s house overnight and my youngest daughter, my caged up cats and I headed over to the motel. I had booked early arrival and I had also booked a ground floor unit at the back to make it easier for me to evade being seen carrying my cats into the room. I believed my plan to be flawless. Unfortunately what I didn’t account for was the maid to be cleaning the room next to ours. When we pulled up into the motel room it was pouring rain. There was one cat in my daughter’s car and one in mine. We obviously could not get them into the room until the maid left. We casually smiled at the young woman and made our way inside our room. I felt guilty. I could just imagine my furry friends wondering what the hell was going on. Needless to say, we waited and waited and waited and waited. I swear that maid was there for what seemed…hours. I finally made an executive decision. I would unpack my suitcase, take the suitcase to the car stick my cats in there one at a time and bring them in. It worked!
The cats adjusted in the room, and to my amazement the day and evening went hunky-dory. It was almost like camping in one big tent.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

chaotic organization

I made my way home, kind of doubting myself by signing. I guess that’s a normal feeling. Since my divorce I had definitely become more aware of my endeavors. It all falls on me. Mistakes, money or decisions. Boy, I really must want this house and all the time, effort and money it is going to take to attempt to make it gorgeous. I guess what I had consciously declared to myself was, “Cori, look at it as an adventure. You only go around this lifetime once so why hold back”. Remember what I said about flying by the seat of my pants? Easier said, than done!

That night I started to pack. Yes, I am not one to wait until the last minute. Within a few weeks I had gone through every piece of junk in my garage and separated it into keep and sell. I had put all my living Room and dining tables and chairs, two beds, an armoire, two kitchen chairs and an assortment of odds and ends on Craigslist to pawn off on someone. I was on a mission. Let me add that while all this was going on I received a call from my real, Real Estate agent. Apparently the surrogate agent got my move in dates wrong and now I was going to be without living arrangements for one night. She offered, and so she should, any money this might entail by way of moving truck rental and or hotel night stay. Not to mention, and this is a doozy, the new owners of my house had an inspection done. The inspection found that my chimney leaked and had been leaking for the whole 21 years I was living there. $2,000.00 later it was good as new. No need to tell you how I felt about dishing out the moola for that. I’m sure you can imagine. Well, long story short, the $2,000.00 my chimney cost me was made back by the furniture I sold and the garage sales I held. I was back to square one. Much of my house was virtually empty of furniture. Boxes filled with the lucky contents that was going to make it to the new house, lined the walls. My move in date was coming up fast. I was sure I was prepared….moving trucks…check….hotel stay….check….the poor soles who were helping me move…check. I was almost there.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

The contract

I was a rock. I didn’t want to be taken to the cleaners over a house that I had an emotional attachment to….suddenly I had an epiphany. Oh my God! Did that creepy contractor go behind my back and put an offer on the blue house? It was awfully suspicious. All this time no offers on the blue post and beam, then the moment I bring him into it, poof, there’s an offer on the house. I wouldn’t put it past him. He did say it was a solid home. I felt sick to my stomach that I had trusted someone and was now being stabbed in the back.

I arrived at the Real Estate office in record time. I still had my price in my head. It wasn’t going anywhere. As I made my way into her office the agent was on her cell. She waved for me to have a seat across from her. The contract rested there, taunting me on the desk between us. I squinted to try to read it even though it was upside down…and what did my eyes behold?....why…the exact price I wanted for my home! Exact as in, bang on! It’s a divine sign I thought, as I pointed at it erratically. I watched the agent grin as she nodded her head yes. She finally finished her call. “Yes”, she said surprised. “They are offering what you wanted”. My agent obviously had let her know what absurd number I was expecting for my house.

She officially introduced herself and we cordially chatted for a brief time. Finally she started grazing through the contract. Along with the price, the buyers also wanted the kitchen appliances, which is normal and which I was expecting. Even though I had stated that I wanted to keep my washer and dryer (it was previously determined, as they were less than a year old). They also wanted those. They also wanted the stand up freezer downstairs. I told her I would accept the price and the kitchen appliances but I wanted to take my washer and dryer or no deal. The freezer had cost me $50.00 a year previously and the thought of moving the monstrosity made me offer it up with no hesitation. Not only that, I had another small chest freezer which was definitely sufficient for my needs. They could have the stand up freezer. I then asked the agent what odds she thought I had to get the blue house at this point in time.
“At the moment she said, you’ve got a 50/50 chance”. “The buyers have to accept this offer and then their financing has to go through”.
I was fully aware, as was the agent, the deal on my post and beam would fall through if this offer did not hold. Luckily and thankfully, there was a time clause in effect. I was glad my agent had originally put that in the contract. Who knew that this would happen? I’m sure the odds are very slim.

The agent made the call to the interested buyer’s agent. She explained the situation I was in and that it was imperative we speed this along in record time. The buyers accepted my terms within a half hour.
It’s interesting the emotions that go through you at this moment. I was elated and at the same time sad and at the same time petrified. Here I was selling a home that I had spent a good chunk of my life in. I had brought my children up in that home and I remember how I felt when originally purchasing it. A lot of love went into those four walls to put my stamp on it.

I instantly fast-forwarded to the near future and the work that was going to be involved in just the moving process. I also had to sell a lot of my furniture because the post and beam was smaller. I had a couple of short months to pack all my stuff up and move on out. Then, I thought, I have to renovate the blue house. Renovate? It’s that dirty word no one can actually relate to until they have actually done it. At least that’s what I was expecting because of reading about "other people’s experiences". What the hell was I thinking? Could I do this?......
Pen in hand, tears of joy and sadness rimming my lids, I signed on the dotted line.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Good news and bad news

I was getting antsy. Okay it was only five days on the market but I wanted my house sold. If you've ever tried to sell your home you know what this entails. I'm a pretty neat person but I actually turned into freak of a homeowner. I must have spent a few good hours spot cleaning my rug and was constantly cooking cinnamon water on the stove to make the rooms smell great. I would have baked cookies if I'd had the hours in the day but working full time just didn't allow that. I think I even called my daughter a few times from work to make sure she flushed the toilet before someone came to check out our digs. God forbid I should show any signs of being a human. Sinatra and Martin sang through my speakers day after day...yes, it was shear perfection.

On day six I met my second contractor at the blue house. Quick story here before I get into it.... This contractor is someone I met through my work. I work for a decking company and part of my job is running the contractor training end of things. Anyway, when I met this contractor in my office I felt he was a good guy. He seemed organized and calm and I liked the way he talked to his employees. He seemed respectful. He knew about my house interest and offered to look at it if I ever needed him to. He specifically said there were no strings attached but that he'd give me his honest opinion if I needed it. Okay, I was at the point where I thought I needed it.

When I showed up at the blue house he was already there. He had brought his 10 year old son with him. My agent was also there. I walked through the front door and right away I got a bad vibe. He was walking around like a no-it-all telling me this was wrong and that was wrong. I guess it was his cockiness that really rubbed me the wrong way. We finished looking around the house (it certainly wasn’t thorough) and my agent left and I went and talked some more to the contractor by his truck. I came right out and asked him what he thought of the house and he proceeded to tell me how much I would have to spend on the inside and outside of the home. It was a lot! He was scaring me. I asked him if it was worth buying and he said yes, it's a solid home. He told me I should go back to the homeowner and ask $30,000 less for it. I told him there was no way on God’s green earth the owner would go for that. I also thought this contractor was in la la land. He was getting a little too cozy with me, if you know what I mean....and right in front of his son. It grossed me out and I couldn’t wait to get outa there!

The next day I met my Real Estate Agent at her office on my way home from work. There were people looking through my house at the time, which is why I met her in her there. My agent was heading out of town the following day and wanted to go over a few things with me. She told me one of the other agents in the office would look after me if anyone put an offer in on my house. Just then her cell rang.
I gently quipped...."that's the other agent. I bet that’s an offer on my house”. We smiled at each other and she answered her cell.
Well, it wasn't an offer on my house but the agent was asking a lot of questions. Questions like...is she firm on her price? Has she purchased anything else yet? My agent was very non-committal in her responses. They hung up apparently they were very interested. I was hopeful.

Day eight…D day.

It started out like any other day, although it was the last day I had to sell my house. My time was coming to an end and now I was hoping that no one would try to steal it from me. I assumed it was doubtful since I was the only one who had ever put an offer on it.

I was wrong…..

My cell rang. It was my surrogate agent. “Cori, we have a situation” she said. “I have some good news and some bad news”.
Situation? Good new, bad news, I thought…what the hell does that mean?
She began to tell me there was an offer on my home but….there was also an offer on my treasured blue post and beam. The offers came in at exactly the same time! Holy Cow! What were the chances of that?
She asked me if I could leave work and get to her office a.s.a.p. Of course I was in the car in a flash. I was calm and all I remember thinking is…if it’s meant to be it will be. If not, I wasn’t meant to have the blue house. I told myself that I would not settle for a meager amount for my home and I had my selling price in my head. I would not vary from that number, even though it was more than the market norm. It would be a divine sign if I got the price I was thinking for my home. I would not waver. Not a chance!

Sunday, December 6, 2009

Left to the powers that be

Days went by, then weeks and weeks went by. I still wanted the house. I continued to draw the interior tweaking every detail. I also delved more into research on decorating and renovating mid century modern homes. Names like Eames, Nelson, Knoll and Wright, to name a few were continually coming up. As those weeks went by, the housing market took an upswing. The listing price of homes was climbing, which meant I could get more for my home when I sold it. It also meant that the blue house was coming more into line of what it really should be sold for. There were still no other offers on the house. It seems no one has an eye for seeing past ghastly decorating. The privacy and beauty of the 1/4 acre it was inhabiting was in itself worth a pretty penny. This diamond in the rough was also close to all amenities, not out in the boonies miles away from civilization.
I did a lot of combing around, looking for the style of house I loved so much. I did find them popping up here and there but what I lacked exposing was a neighborhood as appealing as my little street of dreams.

Finally, I decided that because I could get at least $15,000 more than previously expected for my house I would give one more stab and put another offer on the blue house. It made sense. Rambo's house stayed the same list price and mine had, if I placed it on the market, increased in value. I called my agent. I offered $19,000 less than the listing price, an inspection and another contractor visit. The inspection and contractor was agreed upon but the bugger didn't accept my reasonable offer. I told my agent I would try one more offer and that definitely would be it. This guy was in la la land if he thought he would get anything close to his asking price. I was the only person after all these weeks, who wanted his house. Apparently his agent was getting perturbed with him as well. I decided to offer $3,000.00 more and that was it. I would definitely move on. I was done! I was at the point where I would let the powers that be decide whether I'd get the house or not. My agent put the offer in and....guess what?...he did not accept. When my agent phoned to let me know, I basically said thanks for all your help. If you see any other house I may be interested in give me a call. I was at peace. I trusted the fact that if I was meant to have the house I would. If I wasn't, then there was something down the road that would be even better for me.

My youngest daughter came into the kitchen asking me about it while I prepared dinner. Interestingly enough she said...."Can he change his mind on your offer?"

I said "I'm not sure".
At that exact moment...and I'm not fibbing, the phone rang. I chuckled to her, "Wouldn't it be funny if that was him changing his mind?" I looked at the call display. It was my Realtor. My heart met my stomach. Rambo did change his mind.... well kind of.... He wanted to ponder the offer overnight. I agreed. One more night meant nothing and I really did feel like what would be would be. I was however, fairly certain I would be getting it at this point and I was right. The next morning I did.

It wasn't over yet. The offer was on the condition that I sell my home. I had only a few short days to sell it or someone else could come along and buy the blue house from under me. That made me a little nervous even though, surprisingly, there had been no other offers on the blue house except lil' ol' me. My house went on the market the next day. I decided to try and get more than I thought I could for it even though the comparative homes were quite a bit less. The first person who went through was very interested and set up a time to see it again but this time with her husband. The husband didn't like it. Obviously, he had no taste. In the meantime I also had to get the inspection done on the blue house. I was crossing my fingers that the house was worth buying.

The blue house was found to possess an old oil tank buried in the ground. This was a major find. It was an environmental issue and had to be removed. I certainly wasn't willing to incur the cost of that. The house also had wacky electrical but since I knew I was gutting the house and wanted rooms switched around it didn't seem like a big deal. What was a big deal though was the monthly heating bill. I wasn't a fan of the cost of that and chalked up the heat loss to all the single pane windows and sub-standard insulation. What I wanted to know from him was...is there insulation in the roof and walls. He assurred me the insulation was under the torch on roofing and said yes, there was insulation in the walls but obviously not up to todays standards. All in all the inspection went well except we needed to go back to the home owner for him to remove the old oil tank. Honestly, because Rambo was so daffy I didn't think he would agree. My agent pointed out that because we had exposed the oil tank he would have to reveal that to any other buyer.

To my delight he agreed to remove it. I was one step closer to owning the blue house but I still needed another contractor to go through it for my own peace of mind....and furthermore had to sell my house.

Saturday, December 5, 2009

Rambo

As I opened the door it was just as I had envisioned. Although the home was meager on the exterior the interior was roomy. Well, the living room area was anyway. It had a vaulted ceiling with a lovely fireplace and plenty of light. The residence was pristine. I was sure the Beav's Mom lived here. The only changes to be made, at least that were obvious, were the bright orange shag carpeting and the aluminum windows. Even the shag wasn't really a drawback, as most likely it had preserved the wonderful treasure beneath it ….the beautiful hardwood floors. The whole house was like stepping back in time. The kitchen, although very small, was in it's original condition, stove, counters and all. The bathroom was spotless and again in it's original state. Blue fixtures and pink ceramic tile filled the space. There were three bedrooms, one of which was an addition to the house done sometime in the 60's. It also had a walk out basement, which was partly finished. There was a wonderful find down stairs...a dryer from the late 50's in perfect condition. I'd never seen that before.

My emotions took me prisoner. I wanted this house! (so did my daughter) I asked my Realtor to attempt to get it for me. She quickly phoned the listing Realtor. We knew there was an offer on the house but apparently it wasn't as secure as they thought it was. Financing was their hold-up. I had a slim chance. We quickly wrote up a back up offer (full asking price. Trust me it was a deal!). In the mean time I prayed....I prayed hard! Unfortunately or fortunately....that is yet to be seen, I lost the cute little stucco house. The other Ranglers came through just in the nick of time....damn!

I was forlorn for a couple of days but bounced back in true form and began to think about the blue post and beam I had looked through. I decided to use my memory and graph paper and draw out the interior of the home the way I'd like to change it. I really did love the blue house but the work that was involved to bring it up to snuff scared me. No, let me re-word that. It intimidated me. I know nothing about renovating. I'm the girl who uses a butter knife to unscrew a screw and anything with a bit of weight to hammer a nail into a wall. Fortunately, I am artistic and the some of things I am good at is drawing up plans and interior decorating and design. I'm also the girl who knows what she wants and goes for it! Typically once I make a decision, rarely do I renege without good reason. Pencil in hand away I went. I turned the four bedroom into a three and put in a master bathroom, complete with soaker tub. I made sure the master bathroom was above the kitchen and beside the main bathroom. I did at least understand that the plumbing in the same area would be cheaper to reno. There really wasn't a lot of rearranging to do. I would have to get some walls moved upstairs but because it's post and beam there were no interior bearing walls. The only thing that made it a bit difficult to plan was the wall of windows. Obviously I had to make sure the walls were placed between the windows...duh.

Once I finished my plan I needed a contractor to come with me to the blue house again to give me a rough estimate of what it would cost to turn this into my dream home. Luckily my daughter Megan had a friend who was in construction and worked for a renovation company. I set the visit up with my agent and met the reno company at the blue house. We were there for close to an hour and I showed them what I wanted. I told them I would look after the flooring and the kitchen...I wanted an IKEA kitchen. The estimate came back at about $50,000. I added a few more pesos onto that quote for good measure and decided to make an offer on the post and beam. I would offer the owner $29,000. below what he was asking. I thought that was fair. I had to consider what I would get for my home and have enough to reno the post and beam. The offer went in and the offer came back. The owner only shaved $4,000 off his ludicrous asking price! Not to mention he denied and inspector to come through the house. WARNING, WARNING. Who the hell denies that?! My realtor was...how do I say?....pissed! She had never in all her years had anyone deny an inspection. My first reaction was that there was some major thing was wrong with the house and he didn't want anyone to find it. When it came down to it we quickly realized he was very eccentric and apparently had a lot of guns hidden in the house. Just Perfect, I have an unrealistic, unstable Rambo type home owner to barter with. I did a counter offer of $3,000 more and an inspection! I told my agent that was my final offer. The inspection was accepted but the price wasn't. Needless to say I bowed out of the deal!

This isn't the end of the story. It's only the beginning...for some strange reason there seems to be an abundance of beginnings and meant to be’s.

Friday, December 4, 2009

One thing leads to another

I sat in shear disbelief. You see, I hadn't read that local paper for weeks and this one fateful day I decided to open it up. It was pretty early in the morning and all I wanted to do was call my oldest daughter Megan to tell her of my discovery. I held back and decided I would hop in the car and make sure it was the house on "my street". As I turned into my future neighborhood I could not believe my eyes. Yes, the cute little salmon colored stucco house was for sale but to my disbelief and what made me even more excited is that two doors down, the house that I was having a secret affair with, the bright blue one. The one with the large window. The one I had placed on my desktop. The one with the flat roof and beams... was also up for grabs. I called my daughter. Long story short she told me to call her realtor.

The poor woman...I was a hysterical mess on the other end of the line, begging to go see houses on Mother's day. I told her that I'd been looking in this neighborhood for a long time. Understandably she didn't really want to take me to see the houses on this special day. I'm sure her husband was serving her breakfast in bed and a wonderful dinner was planned later that evening with her kids. I held back as she told me she would look into it and we could set up an appointment for the next day. God bless her soul. She called me back later that day. I would see both houses back to back the following afternoon.

I had trouble working that day. I was meeting my daughter, her husband and the Realtor in front of the "blue house" that Monday afternoon. I can't lie, I had huge expectations. The blue house was brand new on the market and wasn't even on MLS yet. She told me the price and honestly it was way above what I was willing to pay for it. Unfortunately the salmon stucco house had an offer on it and apparently it was in mint condition inside, not to mention it was a steal. As we walked through the front door of the blue house I was surprised. The large window that I had believed to be the living room was actually the stairwell. This house needed a lot of work...did I say a lot? I mean HEAPS. Every wall was wood. Either paneling or slotted fir boards. The kitchen was the worst I'd ever seen. As I rounded the corner into the living/dining room there was a sea of windows and a gorgeous and plentiful backyard with total privacy. I did my best to see beyond the hideous decorating which included doilies on the chunky dining table and deer heads on the walls and lets not leave out the horns that adored almost every surface of furniture. They had trimmed the windows with heavy, posied drapes. Everything was dark but shouldn't have been. There was no place for the light to bounce off of so it stayed outside. The fireplace was a large bricked wall with colored slate at the base and it possessed a monsterous, grotesque wood burning stove. The stove had to go! The decor around the fireplace also included a robot and a replica army tank...what??? We made our way upstairs. Four bedrooms, not bad. The bathroom was very dated and looked pretty well original from it's 1956 birthday. There was a balcony off the master bedroom which was a plus but the door stuck and all the windows (and there are many in this house) were all single pane. I told my daughter I felt comfortable in the house but she pointed out that it was probably because it was a lot like our summer cabin. I couldn't deny it...she was probably right.

Okay, that done it was on to the salmon colored stucco house. I still wanted to see it even if it did have an offer on it. The price was a lot less and apparently it was "mint". I suppose the word mint is appropriate, at least to that era. Mint is a word from the 50's, right?

As we walked up to the front entrance I looked at my daughter and we both wanted to cry. I new I was going to be dazzled by the interior. It was still in possession of the original owners. That in itself facinated me.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

The discovery

After receiving my Atomic Ranch through Amazon I was thrilled! Not a disappointing photo or word to be had. I must have ogled through that book every night for weeks. I even had my oldest daughter and her hubby coveting the book when they came over for visits.

Never in my wildest dreams could I imagine that a house, somewhat close to the wonders within this hardcover, would be lurking in the midst of my own suburb. Surprisingly, while driving around with a friend and her Realtor friend (don't ask, that's another story) I told the Realtor of my dream home....post and beam....wall to wall windows. He proceeded to take us through a neighborhood just a few short blocks away from my home. As we turned the corner into the quaint hood, it was as if I was transported back in time. It was a little dark outside but I could see through the windows of the dwellings as we glided by. It was as though the street was in a time warp and never quite caught up to the 21st century. The excitement that exuded from my soul was not held back. I couldn't wait to go back in the light of day to actually see what I was now witnessing. Needless to say, it didn't disappoint. The next day, camera in hand, I headed down the street again. There were actually three homes I absolutely loved but one... a bright blue, flat roofed, post and beam with a huge window in the front sang to me. I snapped pictures of all three homes, went back to my residence and downloaded them into my computer. I made the bright blue one my computer wallpaper. It sat there for months, staring back at me every time I went on my MAC. Quite often I would visit the quaint little neighborhood hoping that one of my visits would find a treasure. A "for sale" sign perched on the lawn of one of those homes I loved so much. I even got out of my car behind the houses (some backed onto a school yard) to see what the back of the homes looked like. In the meantime my obsession for the homes in the pages of Atomic Ranch made me source out more info on the era. I found out there was an Atomic Ranch magazine. I then began ordering back copies of the publication and more mid century books off Amazon. I had a serious disorder of which there was no cure. But I soon learned I was not alone. In the pages of these magazines there were others, like myself, who also had this disorder. It was a quiet relief to know I was not the only freak on this earthly planet. Months passed...the sun went up....the sun went down and then.....it happened.

It was Mother's day, a day which started me down a path with no looking back. It was a quiet morning, just sitting at my kitchen table, sipping coffee and thumbing through my local paper and there it was.... Could it be??? I looked again. No! couldn't be....but it was. I saw it...IT being one of the homes on my street of dreams...it was, yes... it was FOR SALE....gulp...

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Day 1 but not really

I guess it can be said that fate is alive and well and living in my new "old" home with me. Let me go back a couple of years when this really began...

My passion started with a book. A book I can't seem to remember how I came to find out about but I'm sure it had something to do with dancing around the internet
. All I remember is when I saw it I finally realized a fire within me. Not that I haven't had fires within me before but this was more like a bonfire out of control. The books name you ask?....Atomic Ranch. I've always loved decorating and achieving a "look" and I've liked different styles over the years but when I saw the images in these pages I new I was home. The house I was living in at the time was a terrific home. It was our family home which was purchased new twenty one years previously. Myself, my husband and my three children had many, many good times within those walls. Fast forward 19 of those years and I found myself contemplating moving. My husband and I had divorced and the house was getting bigger and bigger with each child that moved out. Finding that book was part 1 of my fate. What happened from that time forth even shocked me. You see, I'm not one to take chances, spend big chunks of money and fly by the seat of my pants (not anymore anyway). Let's just say I'm now using a belt, glue, Velcro, cement...basically anything to keep the seat on my pants from navigating too far away.