Moving On:
Chapter Five
I’m
out of time and found out buying and selling a house are two very
different
things. It was a wild ride having strangers traipse through my house
looking in
and at everything, but there’s a lot more responsibility buying and now
I’m the
one poking around everywhere.
I
call my daughter, “Hi
Angie. I’ve been
as busy as a beaver building a dam in a flood. I know you’ve been busy
too. Do
you have time to join me for a final run through the house I’m thinking
about
buying?”
“Sure,
Mom. I have some time today and I’d love to see what house you’re
picking out.
The timing’s right. The kids are in school and Jim is working on
remodeling
rooms for The Sound View Hotel. When
do
you want to go?”
“Five
minutes ago, of course. I have to make my mind up right away. I’d like
to have
your input.
“I’ll
be right there. Can’t wait to see what you’re up to.”
Onan,
bless his skinny bones and distracted mind, has shown me monstrosities
with expensive
issues needing makeovers and serious repairs inside and out. Each as
enticing a
place to live as a shack with a leaky roof, holes in the floor, built
next to a
Shopping Mall parking lot, or with train tracks behind and a tavern in
front
that fills with noisy drunks by six PM who sleep it off on the front
porch. At
least the one in Ballard is pulling my heartstrings. I can’t forget
about it.
That’s a good sign.
I
pick up the phone, “Hi Onan, It’s Ms. James. I’d like to look at the
house in
Ballard once again. Can we see it today?”
“Yes, I must wrap up some paperwork,
but come on in. I’ll be ready when you arrive. That house is a great
choice.”
“I’d like to meet you there. My
daughter’s with me.”
“Sure, that’s fine. See you soon.”
Angie shows up with her long blond
hair pulled into a pony tail through the hole of her Seahawk hat.
Standing next
to her makes me feel like the grandma from Thrift Shop hell.
We pull
into the driveway at the same time Onan gets here. Angie watches him
get out of
his car and says, “Mom, his glasses are bigger than he is.”
“Well, Angie, I wouldn’t hand him
anything heavier than a cup of coffee because he’d probably collapse.
Be glad
we have a front view. He is so skinny he can’t cast a side shadow.”
Angie
gets her first look-see from inside the car.
“This
house is not move in ready on the outside in front because it looks
like a
color-wheel threw-up. I see a lot of Yellow with orange and red window
trim. Those are
ugly blue garden statues that look
like a yard sale gone wrong.”
“Mom, look at the
multicolored worn tie died windsocks.
I can imagine they probably waved with pride years ago but now move in
a slow
sway. Oh, no, who would leave dirty neon red, green, and purple plastic
flower
pots in the yard?”
“I
can’t look at them, Angie. They
make me
queasy. It’s like falling into a Sonia Delaunay brilliant colored
abstract
painting but with haphazard crazy shapes in a weird order that marks
this
Trippy Hippy Home’s exterior.”
Angie
looks at everything as we walk up the driveway. “The house would have
pleasing curb
appeal if you are color blind. It looks like they threw a paint ball
war game
and the house lost.”
I
introduce Onan and Angie, “You can go on in while I give my daughter a
tour.
“OK.” Onan grabs a huge key chain
and fumbles with the box on the front door.
“Angie,
this place has good bones. You’ll like the way it flows. They updated
the
kitchen and I’m pretty sure removed the wall into the living room to
make it open
concept. I wish they ‘d continued wood floors throughout. I’ve got to
look past
the Kaleidoscope colors outside and think about cleaning away all those
crazy
pots and lawn art. It’ll be neat and beautiful after that is done. Just
imagine
a sensible paint job. I love the minds eye view of what it will look
like. The
front planter will look wonderful when it’s cleaned up, these flowers
are
neglected now. The
water view is the
biggest reason I wanted to re-think this one.”
“I
think this house would look wonderful painted a beige with forest green
trim.”
Onan chimes in as he unlocks the bright red door.
“That
would clean up the desirable 1950’s style that was forced into the wild
side of
the 60’s. You seem to have an eye for colors and design, Onan. You told
me that
the first time we looked at it. That must be the right color
combination. You
should open your own company and do renovations. Hire people to do the
things
you can’t do?”
“I’d like that.”
After
looking at the front yard where we check out the four blooming rose
bushes, a
row of iris, a couple of stubborn tulips insisting on lasting a long
time and
alyssum in blue and white spreading across the front planter, and try
to figure
out the type of bushes are planted near the driveway, we go inside. We
have to
look up the bushes identity.
Angie
gets the first real look at the view. “Mom, this is fantastic. I love
seeing
the water so close. I’m a water baby too.” She pokes my nose and laughs.
Onan
looks off, as if daydreaming, probably thinking about opening his own
business.
Angie
and I wander through the rooms leaving Onan with his thoughts.
“Mom,
They painted inside of the house like normal people would. The
bathrooms will
be an easy update. New sinks, toilets, paint, tile or marble and new
flooring
will be a cinch. I’d definitely re-vamp the closets. I’ll help. Right
now these
rooms look like they came out of a cookie cutter and are seriously out
dated. We could
take that wall out,” She points between
the master and the adjoining bedroom. “We could enlarge your master
bedroom by
adding an en suite and walk in closet and make a better space for the
washer
and dryer. That would give you updates this old house needs. You’d love
it. It
will be a cinch.”
She just said it would be a
cinch-twice. Youth!
“Jim
will help us. It’s right down his alley.”
I
raise my eyebrows.
Outside
in the back yard I ask, “Do you smell the aromatic fragrances? I think
we fell
into a vat of perfume. Look
at the two
chrysanthemum bushes and the Peonies are beautiful. Oh, my gosh, this
is my
favorite of all. A
lilac tree, I’ve
always wanted one.”
“Mom, you have an apple tree
here, you can pick
apples for sauce, pies, and bake them too.”
“I could decorate with the
dried light
lavender blooms of the Hydrangea. There, along the edge of the grass
are red,
pink, variegated red and white, and yellow roses, I’ll have to look up
what
kind they are. I suspect they are hybrids. Angie, here are more tulips,
Red and
yellow that are drooping like in front. It’s past their season and they
are
stubborn and strong. There is groundcover I don’t recognize. Do you
know what
it is?
“Sure,
Mom, it’s something green and alive. I smell the honeysuckle. I think
I’ll stay
here all day and enjoy the sweet smells.”
“This
is a nursery designed to perfection all with the psychedelic colors of
another
era scattered in lawn art made of wire, wood, and I hear chimes clang
while
others ring in the breeze, the rusty ones have a dull clunky sound.
I’ll throw
out the ones that sound awful. The only things missing are the pink
flamingos.”
“Ugh.
Plastic flamingos, how did they miss them? Mom, the owners knew what
they were
doing with plants. Not so much with lawn ornaments. Come here, I see a
large
patch for vegetables and herbs. I know where to go for organic seeds.
This is a
little paradise. I suggest you buy Kleenex in bulk through allergy
season, just
in case.”
“Yeah,
allergies are nothing to sneeze at.” I wink at her. ”I have to study up
on how
to have a healthy organic garden. I now have an unexpected new outlet
better
than the gym right here. I think Onan said this lot is a generous
250’X70’=17,500
sq. That is considered a good size lot in this neighborhood. It was
raining
when I first looked at the house and barely peeked out back.”
“Mom,
you will be physically fit working on all that space back here if you
want to
have it look like a park.”
“Oh,
Angie, there’s a white swing between two of the trees. How can we
resist that?”
“Easy
Mom. It’s filthy.”
We
wander back into the house. “Too bad. I’ll get the vinegar and soap to
it soon
enough. Let’s check out the neighborhood. The houses are mostly
mid-century,
1950’s through 1970’s by the style of them, and they are well kept. The
neighborhood seems quiet and welcoming. What do you think?”
“Yeah,
Mom.” Angie takes a
critical inspection
of the neighborhood through the large living room windows. “I’m looking for Opie. I
think this is really
Mayberry.” She made a funny face and giggled.
“Mayberry,
ha-ha. I’m lucky this house is empty. No worries on getting people out
of here
so I can move in quickly. What do you think Angie?”
“Go
make an offer, Mom, you’ve
got this.”
“This
neighborhood is a desired location so it’s expensive. I’ll have an
investment
here. The value is in the land. I’ll cut the asking price because of
the paint
needed, the old school bathrooms and tearing out the carpet that holds
generations
of small living colonies of who knows what critters and I think that
would be
all. They upgraded the kitchen nice, and the windows seem new and
double pane.”
“I
agree, Mom.” Angie gives me a thumbs up.
“I’m
ready to make an offer on this house.” Onan looks at me with an
ear-to-ear grin
and adjusts his big thick glasses. I think I just made his day.
“I’ll
write it right up.” He reaches for his brief case, gets papers out,
puts them
on the counter in front of the sink on the island, and sits on one of
the four stools
his back to the view.
I
give him further instructions. “Make it subject to an immediate
inspection, and
quick occupancy upon my acceptance of the inspection. Make sure they
know I’m
in a hurry because of my own house-closing deadline. I’m coming in at
twenty
four thousand below asking price so that gives me wiggle room for a
counter. I
don’t want to live in a Motel.”
“Read the Earnest Money, check the
numbers, sign and we’re Done.” Onan seems to have glued his smile on. I
notice
he slyly has his fingers crossed as he finishes writing up my offer.
That
tickles me. “I think it’s time you called me Pam.”
“Yes,
Pam.” Onan looks up from the paperwork and nods his head yes. “I’ll
call you as
soon as I know anything.”
“OK,
now I have a lot to do. See you later, Onan.”
“Well done, Mom. You just bought a pot
palace.” Angie gives me a hug. “I love it.”
We
drive back to the house I no longer consider home. I anxiously wait for
the
phone to ring and can’t help worrying now that I feel a connection to
this new
home.