Moving from House A to House B:
House A was my dream house.It's beautiful, isn't it? I bought it 5 years ago in February 2003. I had scrapbooks (which I still have), filled with 'wish' items on every page. I constantly bought house and home type magazines, thumbing through and ripping out picture after picture. I was incredibly organized and methodical about it: from the flooring to the walls to the fixtures to the lighting in the ceilings.
In 2003 I still had my school, so my budget was pretty wide open. I already had my contractor picked out (that's another post to come), and we set up a schedule for the renovations, starting in March. First would come the demolition stage. There wasn't a single upgrade in the house. The previous owner, a widower, lived there with the original builder's supplies: arborite counters in the kitchen, tiled and broad loomed floors everywhere, basic bathroom fixtures and not enough storage space. So, with plans for a high-end kitchen, wood floors, added closets and an upscale ensuite, everything had to go.
While all this was going on, I was busy with a decorator, picking fabrics for existing and new sofas and chairs and even duvet covers. I was also shopping for new appliances and fixtures too. I'm a pretty good cook, and the kitchen then, was going to have everything it needed and more. I bought an eight burner Viking range (2 of the burners were changed to a griddle!) with 2 ovens; 1 convection/1 regular; a wall with 3 built-ins: a Fisher Paykel convection oven; a warming drawer and a convection microwave. Add to that a huge Sub Zero fridge/freezer combination; a trash compactor and finally a Miele dishwasher next to a huge double sink with a goose neck faucet and a garburetor. Seven high-end appliances all in stainless steel. Wow!
That was the perimeter of the kitchen. To the left is a partial view of the kitchen. It's a shame you can't really see the details. Dead center was this massive granite island with a hammered stainless steel vegetable sink at one end. At the other end was the overhang with 3 bar stools . The floor and the counters were also granite and the back splash was a tumbled marble tile. I had extra deep cupboards on the top, pull out cabinetry on the bottom, and crown moldings around the whole ceiling. Plus, there was a built-in TV unit with bookshelves for my cookbooks, and finally 3 different sets of pot lights with individual controls. The eating area held a 6 seat table by a large bay window that overlooked the deck.
Ah, the deck.
It was approximately 800 square feet on two levels. The second level was built to accommodate a hot tub. I knew we were never going to have a swimming pool, so I thought a hot tub would be the next best thing. We went to the Home Show and spoke to the salespeople and daydreamed how wonderful it would be to slip into a steamy hot tub at the end of a hard working day. However, somewhere between putting down a deposit and delivery, we changed our minds. First of all, we realized, that if you have never ever done something different in your daily routine by the time you are in your 40's or 50's, the odds are that you aren't going to suddenly incorporate it on any kind of ongoing basis. And let's face it, to have a hot tub just sit there unused would have been ridiculous. And second of all, we learned that the upkeep of a hot tub was just as involved, time consuming and costly as a pool is: cleaning, filtration, motors, covers, chemicals. So we bought extra lawn furniture instead. And we did use the deck. I even had family bar-b-ques. So, that was my dream kitchen, inside and out, and the costliest part of all the renovations.
Sounds like heaven, doesn't it? Well, OK, it was pretty spectacular, and visitors constantly oohed and aahed. But there were certainly chinks in the armor. Before I talk about the chinks in the armor, I think we all should pause for a moment to consider this. There is no part of this story that is about "o, poor little rich woman. Shouldn't we all feel sad for her!" No way! Please remember as you read along that is a story about how I've adapted to a much lesser life, and frankly appreciate it all so much more. But I take my time getting to that part of the saga, relishing every sentence.
So where was I? O yes, the chinks in the armor. Well, for one thing, that very expensive granite, which covered counters, island and floor was freezing cold to the touch all the time. The massive hood over the oven range let in more (cold) air than it ever sucked up, and caused a permanent draft in the kitchen. And since I cleaned the house myself, the kitchen took almost one whole day to do properly, so it was always half done. I used the griddle only once, and it turned black right away, so I really never used it again. I never used the warming drawer and rarely used the wall oven. Generally speaking, it was a superb kitchen that should have been far more comfortable than it was, and should have been cooked in more often, but wasn't.
The en suite sported a massive sized glass shower enclosure. It had 3 body sprays, a hand-held shower attachment as well as an overhead rainfall shower, a marble bench and enough room to fit a family 0f six. O yes, it was also equipped for steam. Outside the shower area, the marble floors were heated on a timer. The tub was a luxurious air bubble jet system that could simulate different wave motions in the water. There were two sinks of course, the toilet and a bidet. The cabinetry was that distressed look (very fashionable) and included a free standing open armoire that housed not only a television, but also a small fridge. I almost forgot one more little thing: I had one wall inset with a dryer: for drying or warming up towels! It was extravagant and expensive.
As far as the shower goes, (or went): First, you had to step over a too high ledge. The drain was right under the overhead shower, so it was never comfortable to just stand there and enjoy. When you did move away, it was cold. The marble bench was freezing cold and slippery, and the 3 floor-to-ceiling glass walls were a nuisance to clean.
We never used the heated floor timer, because working from home, our time in the bathroom was whenever. We also forgot about using the fridge to store bottled anything, and it just stayed there, unused. Ditto for the dryer. Don't ask me why. The bathtub, I must confess, was fabulous, dahling, but getting in and out was tricky and dangerous. All in all, as spacious as the en suite was, there was no sense of privacy about it at all. All the fixtures were there in this one great space that we both shared.
Those were the two major renovations in the house. A couple of walls were removed, doors added or removed, and new wood flooring on the upstairs level. This last part proved to be the beginning of a very miserable time with the contractor. He used wood that was too new, which simply means that depending on the weather, it would expand or contract, leaving huge gaps between the wood strips. We could never get him to fix them, and our relationship was never the same after that.
As wide open as the budget was, it stopped at the basement. After all, there was only two of us, and we certainly didn't need the additional living space. In a way it was too bad for a couple or reasons: One: I ended up having my desk and working space set up down there, if you can imagine , amongst the wooden beams, exposed wiring and dust. Two: The basement area was actually at ground level with a huge bay window and walk-out, which, Three: meant the selling value would have been higher had we fixed it up.
I think it's important to understand, at this point, that not only was this my dream house come true, it was also the home I expected to live and die in, really! So there was always going to be time to do the basement at some point down the road. Or so I thought.
When you buy a home for the first time, it's amazing how many things you have to begin to understand and deal with, at one time or another. There was the furnace, air-conditioning and humidifying system, one connected to the other. There was the water heater and the water filtration system, which voraciously gobbled up heavy, heavy bags of salt. There was the duct system, so crucial to the air quality in the house, and of course the hydro boxes with its many switches, and never knowing which one was what, because they were never labeled correctly.
And with all this knowledge came the bills: our heating bills were the most outrageous of all: it took us forever to figure out why. It seems the duct system and the furnace were a mess: there was never enough cold air in the summers, or hot air in the winters, and we were constantly adjusting the thermostat, causing our bills to escalate. Beyond all the other normal bills, which never seemed to be normal, as well, there were realty bills and house repair bills, like a leak in the roof over the entrance of foyer, which destroyed the ceiling and wallpaper, two garage doors that needed to be replaced and God knows what else that I refuse to remember.
We lived there for one year and 2 months before the school closed. In that time, we were debt free and we even doubled our mortgage payments. Life was sweet. Over the next 3 years however, our sweet life changed. It became darn right sour: the happiness faded behind a cloud of debt and new found fear. We were dealing with money woes, lawsuit woes, relationship woes, and to top it off, my husband's father passed away in the summer of 2005 in Italy, adding to our pain and misery.
August 2006: We had run out of time. No more arguments, debates or procrastination. We could barely keep our financial heads above water, and we refused to sink any farther. We had to sell. The process began by interviewing 3 different real estate agents. They were all very savvy and were only too happy to show us their portfolio of homes they had sold. We started to familiarize ourselves with real estate jargon, and eventually chose a mother/daughter team to work with us.
Once our home was in their hands, we decided to start looking around, checking out neighborhoods, searching the Internet, figuring out a rental price range and seeing what that amount would give us. After that, we made appointments to see homes privately, and then through Open Houses. This process began in September 2006 and lasted until February 2007, with a small break over the Christmas holidays. Five months of searching! Our criterion were straightforward: we wanted a house with a yard in a nice neighborhood, and a nice landlord who would give us a long-term lease. This pending move was going to be colossal, expensive, and time-consuming, and I didn't want to look forward to having to do it for a very long time to come.
It's a fascinating human phenomenon: when you embark on something new, in this case, selling a house, and looking for a new one, your eyes only seem to see 'For Sale' or 'For Rent' signs on your outings. It's like you develop a special antennae that focuses in on your needs, to the exclusion of anything else. Needless to say, we had a notebook and pen for jotting down addresses and phone numbers along the way.
At some point, we even explored country living and a lagoon city, where homes were on canals. Luckily for us, we visited this unique area in the winter time, which quickly deflated that idea. Having no children and a portable business (E-commerce), we were extraordinarily fortunate that we could virtually choose to live anywhere, and thus, our explorations were endless.
Looking back, this house hunting process served two very crucial purposes. The first one is obvious: we needed a new place to live in. The second purpose was less apparent but extremely significant: It was an ongoing adventure that consumed, distracted and replaced all the feelings attached to losing our first home. We were just naturally more excited about where and what our new home would be, than depressed about letting go of the past.
We created a lot of unnecessary worry house hunting so early. There were times when we really wanted a particular place, but we hadn't sold the house yet. Just imagine the conversations we had with prospective landlords. As much as it was an exercise in futility, it provided us with great negotiating skills that would hopefully come in handy later on.
Our real estate agent team was selling the house, and we naturally asked them to help us with finding our new home. The truth is, as the months marched on, we weren't overjoyed with their performance. We were all frustrated for various reasons, and frankly, the idea of giving them a double commission (even though it was only for a rental), really bothered us. Nevertheless, they took us to see a lot of properties, sometimes more than once.
In early February 2007, we got our first offer. It was 9:00 at night, and was signed by 12:00 am. Three hours of back and forth, and sheer panic. My dream home was going, going, gone! Both parties were happy with a 3 month closing date. And at that point, two decisions went into effect immediately. First, we had to escalate our house hunting, and second, a 12 week packing list had to be created right away.
One night, my husband, on line as usual, came across a local community magazine for our area, and there he spotted a private ad for a rented house, 5 minutes away by car, from where we were. I made the phone call and we were invited to come over right then!
In truth, the house was a disaster. It hurts me to try and describe what we saw, and yet....... you could still see the essentials. The general space, the windows, the backyard, the size of the rooms, the number of bathrooms, the finished basement. The floors on the second level were completely redone with wood. The kitchen, the dirtiest room we looked at, still had everything I wanted and needed: cupboard space, room for a portable island, and a lovely eating area overlooking the backyard. The backyard backed onto a ravine and was almost completely private because of the beautiful trees.
I remember that the day was gloomy and cold, as February usually is, and still, we could see the potential of this house. The owner was prepared to wait for May; agreed to allow a painter of our choosing to come in and paint in March; agreed to pay half of the painting, and agreed to paying for half of the new appliances that the kitchen needed: stove, fridge and dishwasher! He also agreed to pay for all of the new lighting fixtures everywhere, as long as I chose them.
He went on to explain that he knew this house intimately, and even worked on it when it was being built. And so when I asked him how he felt about converting to gas, he didn't blink an eye, and insisted that he could do the main work, and then bring in a licensed guy to certify it. So I was able to purchase a reasonable gas range and oven, and use my gas dryer from the soon-to-be 'not mine anymore' house. Then he said he would install all the new light fixtures for us as well.
Honestly, it was hard to believe that he would keep his word. It was just too good to be true. But he did. He gave me checks for all my receipts, one by one, and did everything single thing he promised and more.
Of course, I wrote up a very simple contract/lease for the both of us, which he and his wife signed. Oh, did I mention we have a three year lease????? And that was the beginning of our new lease on life in House B!
