We got word today that another appraisal is needed on the city house. The first appraisal came in what we considered fair and spot on, and we are not sure why there is another one being ordered. It may be because BofA sat on it for six weeks and some invisible deadline passed.
I hate when that happens.
We also got word that all the docs that were submitted in June need to be resubmitted. Fortunately the agent has done that. After the hubs re-signed some things to resubmit, an account specialist was assigned. And so begins the debt collector phone calls, which are horrible and humiliating and depressing.
In the last week, the buyer's offer was submitted and acknowledged by the bank. They put in the offer in June but we had to wait on BofA to get their ducks in a row. Now begins various assessments by various departments. In plainspeak: it will take a while. We still don't even know if we are approved for a short sale.
But we are grateful for movement because it is progress towards a destination point we will eventually occupy, when the bank is good and ready. It's extremely important to know where you stand.
In this moment, we stand here in the house we love with Lysol-soaked sponges to clean the counters after moving boxes are moved to the garage. Our life's clutter is being prepared for the boys' arrival tomorrow. I love my kids but I really, really love them during a move. Thanks, guys!!!
The rental truck is ready. Utilities are set up. I am making food, doing laundry, cleaning out the fridge and tossing the last of the kitchen supplies into a box. Looks like it's all systems go.
In the quiet moments alone, I hope this will be the last move we ever have to make, and that we find a way to make lemonade with every day of it (no matter what).**
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**Postscript: While writing this, an email from our agent was waiting. In it was a letter from BofA and FannieMac approving our short sale. Not only that, the buyers that have been so patiently waiting were also approved. Escrow will open at once and the house is expected to close on September 10th.
Thank you, Lord.
Jul 26, 2012
Jul 25, 2012
Taking the Plunge
In the midst of all this*, we spent last weekend in Tahoe with Randy's niece and the rest of the family to witness and celebrate her wedding. *boxes!stuff!mess!
We were invited to three weddings this summer which is unusual. All had all the details, a beautiful bride and organized well, food and celebrating afterwards. But we most enjoyed the ones where we were able to share in the tears, and the mishaps, the funny best man quips and the maid of honor dissolving into tears as she tries to give her speech.
I take my husband's hand in thanksgiving and smile into his eyes and share their moment of loving and honoring one another with their vows.
Lisa was the most beautiful bride. Her dress was exquisite, but it wasn't just that: everything about her demeanor was beautiful. Both of them were absolutely sure.
The wedding at the top of Heavenly Mountain was just about the most beautiful place imaginable. But what will always be most memorable about their day will be the day after, when we all came together at the shore.
Around 11am on Sunday, Rich and Lisa appeared in their wedding attire: she in her dress, and him in his tuxedo, dress shirt and pink tie that matched the bridesmaid's dresses. It was a public beach so it was packed.
After a few standard photos, Rich took Lisa's hand and led her into the lake. I looked around. The kayakers had stopped paddling and stared. People in the boats laughed and pointed. Big smiles spread across everyone's faces on the beach with their families. The photographer had an underwater camera and took shots of them under water, smiling, with their arms wrapped around each other.
It's interesting when I retell the story, how the reaction is either shock at how wasteful it was, or absolute delight. I was thinking about the fate of my own wedding dress, and so many others that are packed away and eventually donated or tossed, and what an honorable end this one had being part of a hugely symbolic and meaningful moment for these young people.
It was a delight, start to finish. What we most hope for their marriage is that it is long and solid, and full of wonderful surprises. What a nice start!
Jul 18, 2012
The Farm
Here are a few pics Laura and Kim asked to be posted. Love Nan
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| Entry Hall from Front Door |
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| Kitchen |
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| Front of House |
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| Off front hall into livingroom. Kitchen is on left and beyond is the dining room |
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| Upstairs bonus room - 400 sq ft |
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| Kitchen pantry holds EVERYTHING we have |
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| Taking down a small tree to make room for the garage/workshop |
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| Hall bath with lots of storage |
Jul 16, 2012
Dragonfly Dance
It is so quiet here, the rumbling of scurrying ground squirrels is noticed.
We spend time purposefully still, and there is a long list of preparations before the move. There are ceiling fans and shelf paper projects, and moving boxes that are being filled and off-loaded, filled and off-loaded. Even with reorganizing, the kitchen is in.
We eat fruit and half sandwiches from paper plates held over an old table littered with scraps of linoleum, measuring tapes and T squares. The blinds are flung open to watch the tractors harvesting rows of alfalfa and farmers waiving as they make the curve.
Spiders watch us. We watch them, too.
It is a quiet street otherwise.
We met our neighbors, a couple from town who bought it as a project house. It does not have electricity to it yet, but it does have a well. We had to talk over a dying tree that needs to come down that is over our property lines.
As the day creeps along toward dusk and we head back to town, there is a virtual storm of dragonflies happily harvesting the bugs from the cornfields that flank the road. I worry that the car will kill some, but I needn't: they effortlessly clear a path.
The car seems to slow on its own to watch the spectacle.
There are thousands of them, maybe millions. Tomorrow I wonder if we will stop altogether right there in the middle of the road and become part of the lyrical swarm of millions of delicate wings defying gravity by moving these long, thick bodies through the air.
The colors flash as they spin and shift direction, glints of silver and green and red and yellow, and the cornfields move in the delicate breeze that I'm not sure isn't partly due to the dragonflies darting in and out of the stalks in search of their next meal.
We spend time purposefully still, and there is a long list of preparations before the move. There are ceiling fans and shelf paper projects, and moving boxes that are being filled and off-loaded, filled and off-loaded. Even with reorganizing, the kitchen is in.
We eat fruit and half sandwiches from paper plates held over an old table littered with scraps of linoleum, measuring tapes and T squares. The blinds are flung open to watch the tractors harvesting rows of alfalfa and farmers waiving as they make the curve.
Spiders watch us. We watch them, too.
It is a quiet street otherwise.
We met our neighbors, a couple from town who bought it as a project house. It does not have electricity to it yet, but it does have a well. We had to talk over a dying tree that needs to come down that is over our property lines.
As the day creeps along toward dusk and we head back to town, there is a virtual storm of dragonflies happily harvesting the bugs from the cornfields that flank the road. I worry that the car will kill some, but I needn't: they effortlessly clear a path.
The car seems to slow on its own to watch the spectacle.
There are thousands of them, maybe millions. Tomorrow I wonder if we will stop altogether right there in the middle of the road and become part of the lyrical swarm of millions of delicate wings defying gravity by moving these long, thick bodies through the air.
The colors flash as they spin and shift direction, glints of silver and green and red and yellow, and the cornfields move in the delicate breeze that I'm not sure isn't partly due to the dragonflies darting in and out of the stalks in search of their next meal.
Jul 5, 2012
A New Kinda
I think the events of the last 2 months have been nothing short of a miracle. Or if you think it's just a series of unrelated coincidences and prefer that label, that's fine. But I've made my choice already.
The story is this. We met the right kind of people who could help us get through the quagmire of legalese and bank-induced hysteria with our current home. We listened but we also took their advice and began moving forward after the house was sold. When an opportunity arose, and we happened to see it first, we trusted our agent's leadership and direction, even during the difficult parts of escrow when it seemed doomed to fail. She kept up the hope that someday we would emerge with keys in hand.
That day came on the third of July. With keys in our pocket, we sprayed ourselves with Skin So Soft and put chairs out front with a plant and began the chore list, the first of many steps between now and then when life will move somewhere new. I do not begrudge the spiders who have taken up residence in my absence, but now they must go.
We are satisfied. It is the realization of a childhood dream, of course, but also a chance to rebalance and find another, more authentic path as an older adult. It is creating a going-into-retirement-shortly series of interesting challenging hobbies and habits. It positions us to become more involved in our lifestyle - growing vegetables, composting, having a proper workshop, and room to roam. We have always craved a life of more simplicity and quiet, from the hustle and bustle of what it is dawn to dusk, and at this age know ourselves well enough to know an opportunity when we see one.
My fingertips trail along the wood paneling in the hall, and I think about my Grandma Mac who was just a toddler when this was built in 1902. It is like a family bible in a way, this ranch house with its stories and heritage. A whole clan lived here, worked the land, married, had children, and died here. We want to know about the families from the families that know these parts and have lived here always. And then we will add our own indellible stamp.
Just the chance to do that is a dream come true.
The story is this. We met the right kind of people who could help us get through the quagmire of legalese and bank-induced hysteria with our current home. We listened but we also took their advice and began moving forward after the house was sold. When an opportunity arose, and we happened to see it first, we trusted our agent's leadership and direction, even during the difficult parts of escrow when it seemed doomed to fail. She kept up the hope that someday we would emerge with keys in hand.
That day came on the third of July. With keys in our pocket, we sprayed ourselves with Skin So Soft and put chairs out front with a plant and began the chore list, the first of many steps between now and then when life will move somewhere new. I do not begrudge the spiders who have taken up residence in my absence, but now they must go.
We are satisfied. It is the realization of a childhood dream, of course, but also a chance to rebalance and find another, more authentic path as an older adult. It is creating a going-into-retirement-shortly series of interesting challenging hobbies and habits. It positions us to become more involved in our lifestyle - growing vegetables, composting, having a proper workshop, and room to roam. We have always craved a life of more simplicity and quiet, from the hustle and bustle of what it is dawn to dusk, and at this age know ourselves well enough to know an opportunity when we see one.
My fingertips trail along the wood paneling in the hall, and I think about my Grandma Mac who was just a toddler when this was built in 1902. It is like a family bible in a way, this ranch house with its stories and heritage. A whole clan lived here, worked the land, married, had children, and died here. We want to know about the families from the families that know these parts and have lived here always. And then we will add our own indellible stamp.
Just the chance to do that is a dream come true.
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