I’m sitting down. I’m blogging. This will be brief, because there’s so much more to do. However, we’re in. The old house is ready to go. This one has a lot fewer boxes than it did, thanks in a big way to mom and dad, who stayed over a couple of nights. It gave hubby time to do wiring and furniture putting-together. We’re very, very tired.
I have to get fixtures for the master bath, storage for the kitchen (pull-outs and racks and stuff – the kitchen has space, it just needs to be set up), some yard care things (who’d’a thunk we could forget a rake, eh?). We need to get mattresses for the kids, and we can’t put their bedrooms together until their rugs are installed.
It’s good, though. The neighborhood is quiet, but we’ve met a few of the neighbors already. I’ve cooked a real dinner for the first time in what seems like weeks. The cats have learned their way back home. The dog will even have a bunch of friends to play with.
We’ve found a good sushi place and a good Chinese place, we’ve located the supermarket, and Lowe’s and Target are just a stone’s throw away. In another week, we should be ready to start getting things out of storage and seeing if and where they fit.
Once I’m more together and my PC is set up, I’ll tell more and give out props.
It’s been so crazy – packing, moving things into the new house, painting the new house. . .tomorrow it’s going to be mostly over.
Today, our friends Mike and Ellen came over and helped us pack for hours! The Home and School and some of the other teachers and moms gave me speeches and awards and lots of lovely sentiments (Oh, yeah, I had the waterworks going there.) Everyone has been so wonderful, and it really is both sad and uplifting to know that I’m going to be missed. I’ve moved a lot of times, but that has never happened. Wow. The kids are sad and excited, hubby is. . .sore. I’m just wanting the work part to be over, and the fun part of getting into the new house and inviting friends over for beach weekends. (This, in November. I’m such an optimist.)
If I could shrink everything, or even teleport everything, I wouldn’t have to pack. That would rock. I had to finish a couple of sewing projects before I could pack up the sewing room, though. After I move, I’m keeping it a secret that I sew. Nobody will know, so I will not be hemming pants or making curtains or anything like that. I’ll dive into my stash and create wild and wondrous things and if anyone asks me to make them, I will set the price astronomically high so that they’ll either back off, or make it worth my while. Hubby isn’t going to tell anyone he’s a programmer, either. These will be our secret alter-egos. By day, we will be average New Jersey suburbanites. I can hardly wait.
Except, of course, for the huge piles of boxes everywhere. Man-oh-man, packing sure takes way more time than it’s worth.
Well, maybe not. It does force you to examine your life, especially if you’ve reached that stage where you’ve been in one place for a while and your friends aren’t going to help you move. When you’ve hired movers and you’re paying by the pound, you tend to become more circumspect about your possessions. More introspective about your motives (This toothbrush is the grossest thing I’ve ever seen! Why the hell did I keep it????) and more thoughtful about your future life (Will I honestly ever have a use for three gyroscopes? Ever?). You are reminded of your old life – Oh, here’s the letter I kept because I felt so guilty for dumping the guy who wrote it, and one day the world will >need< to know why Spanish nurses like beer with chocolate sauce! – and also reminded of why your current one sucks way less – Here’s all the (ahem, kaff! kaff!) “sales” awards from that old corporate kiss-ass lifestyle!
Yeah, it takes longer than just sweeping everything off the shelves into a box without worrying about whether or not something’s breakable, but it has tons o’ intangible rewards. Woohoo!
So, the guy who’s going to buy the house now stopped by to visit. I can’t wait to meet his wife – he’s a pisser, and she sounds like a lot of fun, too. However, I did have to criticize him – they started doing some visualization and spellwork to ger our original deal to fall through, and it worked. I would have preferred that they had done it earlier so we didn’t have to go through all the hassle!
How to get a real estate deal canceled – go through with the inspector and prompt him with stuff like “don’t you think this is dangerous?” and “how many lives will be lost if this breaks” and such, then insist that the sellers do at least $90K worth of work to fix the house before you’ll close. Saying to the wife, though, “Honey, you’re friggin’ nuts, we’re not bidding on this house” will save a lot of grief all around. Take my word for it.
It looks like these buyers are good to go. Let’s send positive thoughts that they end up in this house and have as good a time in it as we did.
The money thing is all set – papers signed, approvals verbally guaranteed, just a few days until paperwork goes through. New contract signed with different buyers who’ll appreciate the house more. Roofer on his way as soon as the rain stops. Attorney review should be done on both transactions by Tuesday or Wednesday. Time to pack like mad! (I wish I’d saved all those packing peanuts from Amazon.com! Oh, well.)
Things always come together for us in the end, I just tend to forget that during the rough spots.
We’d called the roofer anyway, because the roof is still under warranty, and we’d seen a tad bit of discoloration in the ceiling. Today, our original buyers backed out of the deal (not for that reason) but the new ones will be wanting to see the house in a couple of days. So, naturally, we are suddenly in the midst of torrential downpours. The streets are flooded. You can see only the top of the gazebo in Brookside park. Even dry basements are getting damp. And, of course, some of this water has managed to find its way through tiny cracks in the seams on the flat roof, and is now dripping happily onto black plastic garbage bags in the back bedroom. *sigh* We planned on getting a touch-up, as I said, but now we need to give the roofer no end of grief until he comes and really REALLY fixes the damn thing. We had hoped to position the roof repair as a magnanimous gesture, rather than a necessary piece of labor. Poopy house.
I do love this house, honest, and I love the neighborhood, and I’m going to miss being here, and miss all my friends, but dammit, what a pain that it pulls these kinds of shenanigans when I’m stressed out already.
I’ll be doing more packing today, and I’ve already done a ton of packing – and it has all involved going through forgotten or mostly forgotten possessions and throwing things away. Getting rid of stuff seems to help with discarding psychological baggage, as well. Some things are easy to toss, but others make you hesitate, and then you have to figure out what made you keep them in the first place. Does it remind you of a happy time with the person who gave it to you? Does it remind you of someone you’d rather forget? Are you keeping it because the giver would make you feel guilty if you didn’t? If you got it for yourself, do you use it? Do you love it? Are you keeping it only because, dammit, you paid good money for it? (We seem to have a lot of that last kind.) We’re still going to be moving a huge amount of stuff to the new place, and we’ll need to cut back even more as we unpack, because the new house is smaller – but I’m looking forward to it, actually.
I had forgotten what it was like to sell an old home to a first-time home buyer. *sigh* Yes, there’s lead paint. The house was built in 1870. Yes, there’s asbestos (although most of it has been taken out) because that’s what they used to use for insulation. All the time. Everywhere. Yes, storm windows for windows this size are expensive, and yes, things settle and don’t look perfectly straight. I’m actually glad that we filled out a disclosure statement and were absolutely honest about the house, because nobody can claim that we hid anything. I’m also glad that we had multiple offers on the house in case these buyers pull out, but what a pain that will be. I liked them when I met them, and I think they’d do nice things to the house. I also don’t want to have to make huge changes in the contract we have for the new house, because those sellers really want to get moving, too. We shall see.