Adaptability: Part Four: Living in and Loving my Rented House.

Who could possibly believe how we lucked out! I don't know where to begin. Well, let's see. It was mid February when we signed the lease and the Landlord was happy to let us bring our painter in around the beginning of March. At that point, all the property in the house would have been moved out, allowing us free and clear access.In the meantime, the landlord had no problem with us coming in and out whenever we wanted for measurements of this and that. Can you believe that? Of course, we didn't take advantage of his generosity anymore than we had too.

We found our fantastic painter through our neighbors across the street at our 'old' address. His name was Luigi, and he was about 70 years old, strong as an ox, and worked with no one but his wife, a lovely Filipino lady, 30 years his junior. We settled on a price after he saw the house, and waited patiently for the go-ahead to start.

This man was the Michelangelo of house painters. He knew his paints like no one's business. He actually created a wall color for the hallway areas, just for me. Working alone, and sometimes with his wife, he not only patched, sealed and painted the walls, doors and windows, but also varnished all the wooden floors in the house as well. The painting job lasted almost one month. Day by day, I was there with coffee and dough nuts in hand. Every now and then, he would treat me to homemade Italian goodies as well. Watching one wall after another come to life with fresh new color created this crazy feeling of ownership, room by finished room.

In between visits to the house, I was experiencing a grand mal version of deja vu! I was once again shopping for appliances and lighting! But how things had changed. Even though the landlord graciously agreed to pay for half of the appliances, I still had to be extremely conservative with my 3 choices: fridge, dishwasher and oven range. And I was: I kept the stainless steel, however, choosing the best of the average. I had to co-ordinate the timing of the delivery of the appliances with the gas man's schedule. Then I had to shop for the lighting fixtures. Let me remind you here that the Landlord agreed to pay for 100% of the lights. With that in mind, I, once again, conservatively chose overhead fixtures for almost every room. Not a single potlight in sight.

I refuse to talk about the packing up of the 'old' house, the move which took two solid days, or the unpacking at the new house. The labor involved was non-stop, intensive and back breaking. I have no idea where I found the strength, perseverance and energy to do what I did, because I basically did it alone. ALONE. OK. I'm lying. My husband did pack up his own office. But I completely packed up everything from the basement upwards. I had created a schedule for myself 16 weeks earlier, after the House A was sold, and pretty much stuck to it.

There wasn't just a packing schedule, but there was also a financial budget in play, daily. I would sit at the cold granite island with an adding machine and go over and over the finances: we wouldn't see any money from the house until May, and until then, everything from the movers to the painters to the appliances and lighting and more had to be put onto our credit cards.

And after all was said and done: the real estate commission, the lawyer's fee, the pay back of all credit debt and the line of credit, one half of the appliances and painting and the first and last month's rent, there was almost 'bubkas' left, and I'm not kidding! But still, we would be a lot better off for having paid off the credit debt in full, than a lot of other people.

Once the new home was settled and we had our chance to settle in, we found something we hadn't had in such a long time: peace, contentment and joy. Joy with the house and with each other.

My marriage, prior to the move, was on the very brink of damnation. We couldn't stand each other. The pressure of our money woes, the loss of my business and the ongoing lawsuit had driven a wedge between us so deep and so wide that we we both just wanted to jump in. And actually...... the timing was perfect. I needed space. I needed to find out if we could miss each other enough to come back together in a new and better way. I didn't want this beautiful new rented house to be tarnished with all the ugliness that was pent up inside us. And so it was decided that he would move out for the summer: May, June, July and August, and then we would see.

It happened, but not quite on my time table. He ended up moving into the new house for a couple of weeks, and then, after efficiency apartment hunting for what seemed like forever, he finally chose a place mid-town.

I want to tighten up this part of the story. Our separation lasted all of 6 weeks: he started calling me almost immediately; then I met him for a lunch date ( he had a single long stem rose for me);
then he started coming up to the house once a week for the day. And even so, I found myself crying hysterically all the time. Could it have been from pure unadulterated exhaustion? Maybe, but in my heart, I was desolate and couldn't believe how much I missed him. Beyond the emotional grief, he was racking up all kinds of new debt for his rental place! So-o-o-o-o

We re-united in the middle of July, and started to live that life I spoke of earlier: peace, contentment and joy.

I have never lived in a home before that gave me and us such happiness. Every room has its own special delights. This is the part where I relish making comparisons with House A. First, House A faced north/south, while House B faces east/west. That alone speaks volume when you realize that the majority of the windows are on the front and back of homes (mansions may be different, but I wouldn't know). Light versus no light. I could stop right there and you'd understand. But there is so much more to compare.

When you opened the front door at House A ( my ex-owned house), you walked into a charming old-fashioned foyer, the kind they don't build into a home anymore. You could sit on the rattan bench to remove your shoes or boots, leave your outer wraps there if you wanted but no one did, because that little foyer, was frigid! Then, you would walk through glass paneled French doors into the main hallway area which curved around each side of the Scarlett O'Hara staircase. At this point, there was no side windows letting in the light, so the entire area, beautiful as it was, did not have that lovely airy feeling that House B has.

There is a foyer at House B as well, but its not enclosed. Yet it has two full size closets on either side with mirrored sliding panels. Above the door is this massive arched window which allow the light to virtually pour in morning and afternoon. The main hallway also curves around a curved center staircase, but is far larger and longer. In fact, House B, as it turns out, is a longer house than House A . There is no second floor over the front part of the hallway which means the ceiling height is about 20 feet high. Need I say more, other than to point out that along one side, going up at least 10 feet is this massive wall mirror, (which the Landlord had put in, not me), not to mention a very acceptable spiral Austrian glass chandelier. Neither the mirror or the chandelier would have been my taste, but surprisingly, they are indeed gracious elements in the main hallway area.

The formal living room at House A, was indeed impressive. It had a cathedral ceiling, a wood burning fireplace and two front windows with lead panes. The colors in the room were a combination of soft yellows and burnt oranges, giving the room a very warm Tuscan flavor.
Unfortunately, this was absolutely the coldest room in the house: a combination of being the front room, poor duct work and a high ceiling. What's more, my husband had a perpetual 'hate-on' for this one room. He constantly complained that he wanted to change the furniture and convert the room to a 'manly' library. Never happened.

The front room in House B is much smaller, with a regular ceiling, two front windows and faces west. It holds the very same furniture, the same color painted walls exactly, that was in House A. But this room is warm, bright, and cozy. Moreover, my husband loves it, claiming that the furniture now looks like it belongs!



The other rooms that offer a comparative significance are the kitchens, the bathrooms and the basement areas. The kitchen in House A, as already detailed in the previous post, was simply spectacular, and admittedly, never to be replaced. But it faced south, and still never got the same light as this kitchen does, facing east. Although smaller, it is still incredibly spacious, With the addition of a free-standing tall Billy cabinet from Ikea and a butcher block island with three large stainless steel drawers, I have all the space I needed. The cabinetry is old fashioned, the counter tops are some kind of mottled arborite, and the floor is a white ceramic tile. And who cares? Not me. Everything works. I have convenience, space and light. Better still, there is this very homey, lived in feeling about this kitchen which brings a smile to our faces everyday. And I cook, almost everyday, which is much more than I ever did over my 8 burner Viking range. The truth is, I miss nothing about the other kitchen. It was fabulous and expensive. And this kitchen, by comparison, is convenient, cozy and comfortable, a much better deal.



I had this colossal sized spa-like en suite bathroom in House A, and we both shared it. The en suite in House B is all mine. It is small and charming and pink-tiled. I painted the walls above the tiling a dark slate grey, minimizing the pink tone of the tiles, and the overall effect is feminine with a hint of drama. The shower stall is tiny, with enough room barely to move around in. But I love it. Everything is right there at my fingertips, and I'm always warm. Beyond having two sinks, and a step-up jacuzzi, the toilet and bidet are in a separate little room, adding to the charm of my perfect little, private bathroom.

My husband's bathroom is down the hall: larger and tiled in a soft gray. Much more masculine. He too has a separate room for his toilet. He loves his bathroom as much I do mine!

And then, finally, there is the finished basement which houses a party room with a gas fireplace, a long wet bar with a shiny black counter top. (Remember that little fridge in our bathroom armoire? Well now its behind the bar, where it more rightfully belongs....still empty,ha ha).
The party room is large enough to hold a ping pong table, courtesy of the Landlord. The adjacent room is the main part of the basement, and sports a massive pool table, again, courtesy of the Landlord. Too good to be true, eh? Off that room is a spacious office for my husband with a small side room which we use for business storage. There is still another very large room which is used to store clothing and unopened cartons, a small bathroom with a shower, a cold storage room and a separate furnace room. The entire area is carpeted in red. Not my taste, but hey, who's complaining. So, over the winter months, I continually beat my husband at ping pong, while he continually beat me at pool.

Finally, there is the comparison between the two decks. House A had this magnificent spacious deck, which I had built. All the lawn furniture was right at my back door, but it was just a regular door with a screen door on the outside and 3 steps to maneuver when serving outside. We used to enjoy sitting on the lawn swing, on the second level, but it was so far away from the kitchen and anything we wanted, that it became a chore just to go out there. Here, in House B, we have this small little deck that actually holds the swing, barely. But we open our double glass sliding doors, and poof, we're there! It's like having the outdoors a step away, and because the deck is that small, our view from the kitchen table is of the lawn and the ravine. In House A, our view was of the deck, and then beyond that, other homes of course. Having a ravine in your backyard is worth more than anything else. We are so a part of nature that the peace that surrounds us fills us up with sheer joy.

The other rooms in the houses: bedrooms and family room and main floor office, are basically more or less the same, which of course is a plus feature for us.

House B, as you can picture, is pretty terrific. Being a rental, we don't have to think about realty taxes or repairs. Our heating bill is a fraction of what we spent in House A. The thermostat is set at 20 degrees Celsius, and wasn't changed once throughout the coldest and snowiest winter on record. We have a dream landlord who has given us a three-year lease, and if we're lucky, he'll extend it. We don't have crown moldings and high-end fixtures or appliances, but we don't miss one expensive thing. Better still, we have happiness and love in House B. We never really had that in House A. And the moral of this story is: Money and fancy houses can't buy ya' love!