I Own

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

on idiots

Lately (i.e. the past year) I’ve been thinking that Mr. G and I watch too much television. We rarely turn it on before 5PM, and when we do watch it we don’t watch for very long (far less than two hours, unless we’re watching a Netflix, but critically-acclaimed movies don’t count as “bad TV” right?).  While I’m all for indulging in pure entertainment — I, frankly, wouldn’t dare rob Bump of his precious Sesame Street hour — I do think that when it comes to me and mine the idiot box is just that: generally a waste of time that could be spent on:

a) more reading

b) familial interaction (we both work full-time)

c) physical movement (after two years, I still sometimes use the whole “well, I did just have a baby” excuse)

Before the Internets, the television wasn’t as problematic. But now, thanks to the convenience of things like laptops and wireless technologies, I find my precious intellectual/interaction/active time increasingly sucked into the vortex of television and cyberspace, or The Idiot Box and the Portable Idiot Box.

So a few weeks ago we canceled cable. We still get PBS (Sesame Street) and a few other channels, but we don’t have a very impressive menu of options anymore. At first Mr. G resisted — and I almost caved and called to upgrade — but after less than a week he reported not minding at all. So we’re actually watching less TV. And I’m working out more.  And we suddenly have more time to prepare real, non-nuked meals.
Here’s what Adrienne Rich had to say on the matter (excerpt courtesy of very good friend S):

The television screen has throughout the world replaced, or is fast replacing: oral poetry; old wives’ tales; children’s story-acting games and verbal lore; lullabies; “playing the sevens”; political argument; the reading of books too difficult for the reader, yet somehow read; tales of “when-I-was-your-age” told by parents and grandparents to children, linking them to their own past; singing in parts; memorization of poetry; the oral transmitting of skills and remedies; reading aloud; recitation; both community and solitude. People grow up who not only don’t know how to read, a late-acquired skill among the world’s majority; they don’t know how to talk, to tell stories, to sing, to listen and remember, to argue, to pierce an opponent’s argument, to use metaphor and imagery and inspired exaggeration in speech; people are growing up in the slack flicker of a pale light which lacks the concentrated burn of a candle flame or oil wick or the bulb of a gooseneck desk lamp: a pale, wavering, oblong shimmer, emitting incessant noise, which is to real knowledge or discourse what the manic or weepy protestations of a drunk are to responsible speech. Drunks do have a way of holding an audience, though, and so does the shimmery ill-focused oblong screen. (12-13)

–Rich, Adrienne. On Lies, Secrets, and Silence: Selected Prose 1966-1978. New York: W.W. Norton, 1979.

leaf turn

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.

what i wouldn’t give for some zzzz’s

I guess I really am sensitive to circumstances.  And I’m not (just) talking about things like hate-crimes, genocide, world hunger and climate change.  I’m talking about the petty little issues that make up my so-called “first world problems.”  Like being unable to find the right house in these first few weeks of our search.  I really thought we’d find a house in a week or less.  Mainstream media keeps talking about all of the houses left unsold, the nosediving housing prices, the buyer’s market phenom.  But this doesn’t seem to apply as much to Crunchyville.  And we are now well into our second month on the market.

And I’m not sleeping.  Three hours last night.  Yep.  Three.   Today I’m actually going to dole out some extra cash to drop Bump off at his daycare.  We don’t normally do daycare on Thursdays because of our work schedules, but I can’t imagine being able to run on empty until six tonight.  Plus we have a dinner engagement, so I definitely need to sleep if only to be able to talk coherently for the evening.

Our new dilemma: do we downsize and move into a house that is under 1200 sqft. so we can live closer to work (we both work on campus, which is also where Bump’s preschool will be for the next three years), and so we can avoid spending so much money on a mortgage?  Or do we find a home within the 1200-1500sqft range that is a bit further out (but still a 10-15 minute commute) and a bit pricier (but still theoretically within our range)?  Part of me thinks we should opt for the latter because we’ll want to leg room and the space and it will be worth the price.  The other, Virgoan part of me thinks that would be foolish in today’s uncertain times (stagflation, energy, yadda yadda yadda).  These are the questions keeping me up at night.  Somebody please: throw me a house or a soporific.  This gal needs to chill.

key party, anyone?

Still recovering from house-buying heartbreak (see previous post), Mr. G. and I have decided to be a bit more creative in our search. That is, we are now considering houses that haven’t been remodeled since the seventies. Not quite fixer-uppers (piping, electrical, roof are all fine), but you might call them houses in need of a face-lift. Or a carpet lift? Still, though, I kinda like the earthy colors and feel of rooms like this:

I can so imagine hosting a cheese and chocolate fondue party in this room.

We made an offer, yes we did.

Peace,

Mrs. G