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I am slowly getting more used to our new house, which we shall now refer to as “little cutie” (previous owner’s name for it). For some reason the size is mattering less and less. In fact, it’s somewhat convenient when it comes to cleaning and heating the place, the latter of which we had to do yesterday despite it being mid-August! I have to say the large dry basement really helps with storage. And just knowing it’s there helps. Guess I’m 100% white-bread American: I need to have more square feet, even if it’s only in my head sometimes.
Our first home improvement project is to give Little Cutie a kitchen a face-lift. We plan to install some new appliances, a new Corian countertop with integral sink design, and last but not least refinish the existing cabinets (ourselves). Can I just say the price of new cabinets are hellishly insane? New Corian countertops are also pricey, but I’m willing to splurge there: so long laminate! Plus, Mr. G is confident that the original cabinets are still in very good shape. Yes, they do seem solid in that “older house” sort of way. Let’s face it, I’m somewhat of a princess, so I like things new, shiny, clean, and just so.
First step in this long process will be to install our new gas range, which arrives Saturday. We went with a stainless steel imitation, not because it’s cheaper (which it really isn’t) but because the handy-dandy salesman at Lowe’s said that the mock-stainless is fingerprint resistant. We’re also getting the microwave companion piece that Mr. G will install himself just above the range. This will free up significant counter space. Feng shui here we come (joking).
On an entirely unrelated note, it dawned on me I haven’t posted any pics of Bump lately, so here are some I took in July. Bump was busy “reading” a picture book when I took these, and I think my incessant “look at mommy” pleas confused him a bit — he didn’t know what to do. And when all else fails, reach for Mom I suppose.
(Click on the pictures to behold the full extent of his cuteness).
Well, actually, the bank owns it, but you know what I mean. The cute two-bedroom Craftsman bungalow that gets “oohs and aahs” from passers-by is all ours. Home sweet fucking home. Unfortunately, I relate to this house as one might relate to a lukewarm relationship: definitely not something for the long term, but it’ll do for now. Until something better comes along. Cruel, but oh. So. True.
Escrow closed yesterday. Mr. G. and I haven’t had time to celebrate, unless you count the champagne we popped last night. I still don’t know how I feel about this. Here’s why: the house is small. We could’ve purchased much more house, but we wanted to live closer to the action, in a historic neighborhood (where Craftsmans and Victorians dominate), and in the “blue” parts of town. That is, we wanted to be closer to the water and further from the “red state” suburbs. Problem is, most Crunchyville residents want to live in these cute, tree-lined neighborhoods (they have sidewalks! parks! and coffee-houses!) so you get less house for your buck. Period. We chose this house because it was listed 10K below market value — seller had to get the hell out of dodge a.s.a.p. When our loan almost fell through, she even agreed to kick in 6K towards closing costs *and* replaced the old oil-furnace with a new energy-efficient gas one. Ah, the thrill of instant equity.
Any advice for a family of three living in an 800sf home?
Before you crap your pants, remember that we have a dry, partially finished, relatively bright basement of about 700sf, which is where we plan to expand. Mr. G . is going to enlarge the three windows so they’re “egress” windows, which means we could list this as a three-bedroom house when we sell. And we want to finish the rest of the basement so we can, well, live in it. Right now, having the basement helps keep the upstairs clutter-free, so it hasn’t been too bad. But it sure isn’t the 1500sf rental we grew somewhat used to this year. Then again, we’re not paying that much more per month to live here and we aren’t “throwing our money away.” Not all of it, anyway (5.1% interest rate). So I suppose if you consider the fact that we’re not financially strapped and we have the basement for storage and for an eventual expansion, then we’re sitting pretty. Plus we’re in a neighborhood where it is geographically impossible to increase inventory, so the supply:demand ratio will generally work in our favor (as soon as we pull out of this nightmare housing situation, of course).
While the house might be small, and we’re certainly feeling a little crowded, nothing beats the feeling of having it all to ourselves. Amazing how that works.
G
You’d think they’d add some pictures of the interior too. Or maybe just a picture of the front of the house so we could gauge its curb appeal. OK, maybe just a shot of it from a mile or two closer?
Sheesh.
Speaking of houses, an update: ran into some “snags” with the bank. Crossing our fingers big time. Nothing huge, but definitely driving me to drink tonight.
Update (approximately 12 hours later): I am feeling guilty and lousy for failing to appreciate the fact that we’re about to move into a really cute house in our city’s hippest, single-family residence neighborhood. Saw pictures of what a “starter home” in the Bay Area is going for and this confirmed for me why I should be happy, jumping for joy, and grateful. And not so whiny and pissy. I can life with one bathroom, smallish bedrooms, and a few home improvement projects (DIY, naturally). Seriously.
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We made an offer on a house. Our offer was accepted. It’s a 1920s Craftsman Bungalow. With a porch. Yes, all that we wanted, and in the neighborhood of choice. But it’s small. Bathroom is tiny and bedrooms not too far from tiny. Basement needs more work than we realized (it’s partially finished). Even so, we’re going to end up paying about 20K less than we thought we’d have to pay to get into this neighborhood (and into a real Craftsman). And the yard — it comes with raspberry shrubs (or would that be bushes?). So we’re happy. Our starter home — and with room to grow.
That is, if they’ll agree to a few post-inspection requests.
Stay tuned.
Our first porch. Wicker not included.
I am in love with my husband, and he me. We have a happy, healthy, and cute-as-hell 2 year old son. In addition to supportive and loving families, we have generous parents helping us with a down payment on a house. And friends. Good ones. Lots of them. I have my dream job. My husband is getting closer to his (and it happens to be a couple of doors down from mine). We live in one of the most desirable small cities in the country. All this is to say that it’s high time I started paying more attention to all that I have, not all that I want but currently am without. I know this is serious cheese. But I just have to let it be known that I, the ultimate Debbie Downer , have decided to throw up my hands, let the stress go, and trust that, as my students say, “it’s all good.” We’re 0-for-2 and we may actually go 0-for-6, but who really cares. I am tired of stressing out about four walls, interest rates, and competitive bidding. I guess you could say I have a case of the “fuck its” (Dana Carvey, 2008).
Funny how while we may not have control over what happens to us, we have total control over how we interpret it. Damn. I sound so much like my mother. And this is a good thing.
