and then there was one

The era of the land baronesses has ended. whew.
We now only own one house. It almost seems too easy.

I closed on mom's condo on Friday.

It was even more emotional than closing on our own house a few weeks ago.
As tired as we were of running three households there is just something about that moment when you realize you can never go back.

The closing went smoothly, in fact while I was signing papers the buyer called and asked if she could go in. Apparently she was sitting in her car with her daughter - after just having closed on her old house...waiting... nervous waiting. I agreed immediately, even wished I had thought to mention it sooner. I know the day must have been terribly hard for her. I wanted to do anything I could to make it as smooth as possible.

You see, Ita had been living in her home for over 40 years. She raised her children there, her husband was a teacher at the towns high school and she was a nurse (just like my mom). Ita lost her husband to cancer just this past March. I don't the story of how she managed to get organized enough to move so quickly - but I do know that moving to my mom's senior complex is right in between her two daughters. I have to believe that was a major motivation.

After I signed all the papers (it was just me and the lawyers - I am the executrix)
I headed over to my mom's plot at the cemetery which is just down the street from the condo. This was my thoughtful-wifes' idea, and as usual her suggestions are worth listening to.

The afternoon was stunning, warm sunshine and a cool autumn breeze. It was while I sat there enjoying the air and tending to the plot that I decided to go buy a small house warming plant and stop by to meet Ita. Was that crazy? I don't know. But it felt right.

The movers were there, and in full swing. As I approached the front door I waved to an elderly woman just inside. She invited me in even before I had a chance to introduce myself. Once I told Ita that I was the one who just sold her the condo she had me sitting at the table chatting in no time at all. Her daughter was there - helping her to unpack her kitchen. The three of us chit chatted comfortably about moving, and being a nurse, about how wonderful this neighborhood is how friendly the neighbors are - all watching out for each other.

I watched her furniture fill up the rooms that we had visited for over a dozen years. Her sofa set against the wall where mom's green one used to be. I spent more than a few nights during those last months sleeping on that green sofa, so I could be close to her room in case she stirred.
Ita's brown leather recliner remarkably set just where mom's favorite swivel recliner was. You could walk in any time and find her sunken into it. She would spin it around to face the door when she heard me come in as I called out a greeting. It was her go-to spot whether to watch a football game or when she was not feeling well. She even slept in it sometimes when the chemo made her too nauseous to lie in bed.

It did not bother me to see these changes. It felt good. I was happy for Ita. I was happy for the little condo. Happy for all the new memories that were going to happen there. Happy for the new grandkids that would come skipping through that door, calling out to grandma, who might be sitting in her recliner.
Knowing the good energy that was left there, and knowing how much Ita could use some now.

I was ready to let go.
I am ready to carry on.

peace mom.

...and we're back

we've moved.
we put all of our crap in boxes.
25 years of crap.
in boxes.
and we used ALOT of tape.

5 guys came and put all of those boxes in two trucks.
we all drove down here to the beach (its a marsh actually).
the five guys then unloaded ALL those boxes into our new house.
our new house is smaller than our old house.
the movers lost nothing.
dammit.

we are nearly unpacked.
but thats only because I live with, and am in love, with an industrious woman.
a woman whose stamina and work ethic are terribly hard to keep up with.

we are still under renovation.
there has been MUCH renovation, and more to come.

in retrospect, I really wished I had been blogging this whole time.

its been hilarious, scary, daunting, wonderful and enlightening.
I don't recommend moving for the faint of heart.
my energizer-wife says the next move will be to the 'home' with just our toothbrushes and a picture of the kids.
I am down with that.

Packing 101

We're packing.
It's a little early - but we're excited.

Plus, last time we moved it was not all that smooth.
Hey - it was the 80's, we were in our mid 20's and kinda casual about the whole process.

Casual meaning... not really prepared.

Not prepared meaning that by around 10pm we were just grabbing arm fulls of stuff that had just not been packed.

No really... weese was a little less on top of things in the old days.
That's back when I was 'self-medicating'. I was calmer then. Tho clearly not as prepared. Every thing's a trade-off.

Just ask the friends who moved us. They still have emotional scars (and possible physical ones too).
I suppose that could be why they keep sending me emails with referrals to good moving companies and showing up in my driveway with packing supplies.

But this time... this time we'll be ready.

Hmm, is it possible to be too ready?

The House on Elm - moving in

Moving day went swimmingly.
Well - as best as it could for doing the entire move using a pick up truck.
That and we weren't quite, exactly, completely packed yet.

Yes, its true. I may be overly organized now - but back in the 80's I was a bit more - let's just say spontaneous and relaxed.
(thanks again Bets, I owe you still)

Almost needless to say it was a very long day.
And my increasingly-round-wife could really do nothing more than watch.
Well...watch ... and tell us that the rugs needed to come up and the entire house needed to be painted.
NOW.
Seriously.
NOW.

Have you ever tried to reason with a woman who is 8 months pregnant?

You see, we bought our house from an old woman with one leg. Peg.
Actually - her name was Mary. But we called her Peg.
Yes, we were that immature.

Peg loved green.
We made this assumption because the entire first floor was not only painted green, but had green wall to wall carpets as well. And really ...who paints their basement green - unless you really, really like it.

Granted upstairs there was a blue room and a pink room, as well as a green one - but Peg didn't go upstairs... with the one leg and all.
In fact - Peg creatively turned the the dining room into her bedroom.
It was, of course, green, and matched her green bedspread.

All of this green needed to go. And there was clearly no time to waste with all this nesting going on.

And so - we rose early the next morning, opened all the windows to the cool March winds and started tossing carpet out of the house.

That week we painted the entire house off white. If memory serves, I believe the color was Navajo White. This was a stop gap till we could make more decorative decisions later.
For now - since the baby was coming ANY SECOND - we needed wood floors and clean walls.

The House on Elm - circa 1987

It was 1987, we had just gotten past our big hair phase.

We lived in a comfortable apartment, the first floor of a small house, which had ample space for us, our 7 year old daughter and two cats. We had a fireplace, full basement, a nice porch to sit on, and upstairs neighbors with healthy libidos. We were in our mid 20's. Life was good.
Then, we got pregnant.

At first, we didn't think much of our living arrangements. My young-wife and I were both growing larger day by day -- this of course was because she would send me out to Burger King or Carvel or the grocery store in the middle of the night and be sound asleep by the time I got back with whatever her latest craving was.

We were young, stupid spontaneous and literally taking each day as it came.

Then came the nesting.

Are you familiar with the nesting?

wow.

And so - in her third trimester - my round-wife proclaimed

"We need a house."

Um. Ok.

This was the late eighties people. Interest rates were through the roof, houses were selling like wildfires and were totally overpriced.

We went to see houses everyday - and the ones we bid on were already sold by the time we picked up the phone.

One afternoon our realtor called and told us she had a house for us to see.
We went immediately. It was getting dark.
We walked through - we noticed the house seemed to have a kitchen and bathroom and we saw no obvious holes or missing walls. We put a downpayment on it right then.
Did we see potential?

No.

My ready-to-burst wife needed a house NOW.

This would have to do.

We went back later in the week to see just what the hell we actually bought.
It was at this time we noticed the house was somewhat ugly (notice the aluminum awnings), needed a bit of work (also the aluminum siding),
and had a back yard big enough for horses.

egad.

We're gonna need a bigger lawn mower.

moving... an iterative process

We decided we wanted to move a couple years ago.

We've been here almost 23 years. That's a long time.

So I've decided to blog the 'story' of this place and the time we've been here.
I will do it in chapters - because I am lazy, and because no one really wants to read more than a paragraph or two at a time. We all have lives here.

Note this for starters...
We have not yet found a house - tho we know where we want to look.
We are actively in the process of getting ready to go on the market - thus the dumpster.
We are hoping to be ready by spring - but would like to sell mom's house first.

The Universe Speaks

I was complaining Sunday morning about having to go out and rake leaves all day. I procrastinated as long as I could …enjoying morning coffee, circling condos in the real estate section, and calling friends to commiserate.

We finally dragged ourselves out there for an afternoon’s work.
It was 39 degrees, and a breeze was just starting to kick in. Perfect.

We have a lot of leaves. Personally, I think we have more leaves than we do trees to support them. Some people’s leaves get blown away by the wind. Didja ever wonder where they went? … Pretty sure it’s my house.

I was somewhat curious, tho unfazed, when I found the pull cord to the lawn mower cut clean through. My best attempts to knot it and start the engine were foiled.
I moved on. We had a lot to do.
That’s when the tractor died.
It had been running… not 15 minutes earlier. Now… turn the key – nothing. The tractor is a huge part of our leaf removal process. This was not good.
I tried everything I knew. I opened the hood… looked at the engine, fiddled with the wires on the ignition. Got off, got on. Made sure the blades were disengaged. Turned the key several times – because that often works if you just keep trying.
It didn’t.
I am not a mechanic.
I abandoned it in the side yard.

We did as much hand raking and tarp hauling as we could stand… and went back in.
We put on the ball game and I pulled out the real estate section again.