Home Again, Home Again
There’s no place like home.
Tagged: home RSS
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michael
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michael
Cancer Wall
We hit our first rip-it-out, sawzall blazing problem in the house, a rotted wall join in the laundry room. Details here. Pics here:
I don’t have pics of the original rot, this is what it looked like after pulling everything out. What you see is post-sawzall, post shop-vac. So, Phil, about that haz-mat suit?
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Daniel Semsen
Do you need to borrow my Phillips-head screwdriver? I’ve got two!
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aly hawkins
Holy smokes. That is crazy.
What time are you kids getting started tomorrow (Saturday), Michael? I think we’ll be joining you for some fixer-upper-ness.
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Zack
Wow….not bad. I’ve actually seen worse, believe it or not.
Aly – if you guys wanna carpool (from my house), let me know. It’ll shave about 25 miles off your already long commute. (And we can get piss-drunk on the way there, too)
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Stick
Dude. Nevermind the rot. The power socket is upside down. You should just sell the place and be done with it.
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sharolyn
Stick, in our former house the builder purposely put the socket upside down if it was the one that connected to the light switch. Isn’t that clever?
Lee Family, I am cheerleading you across the miles. Go, Team, GO!
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michael lee
We are starting at 8 am. Get there whenever. We’d love to have you.
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Eric Haas
You’re fixing it up before you move in? Impressive. We lived in our last house for 5 years with no ceiling in the dining room. Dinner parties were problematic, as guests’ attentions kept wandering up to the bare lathe with bits of horsehair plaster still clinging on stubbornly. We only managed to finish the “basic” repairs in time to sell it.
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michael lee
We’re doing the repairs in two stages. The first stage is a one-week rip-em-up, paint-it-out, all-hands-on blitz of the major repair work by our good friends and generous family.
Stage two is a 30-year agonizing death march through the remaining 90% of the to-do list, with no end in sight, and only the intimate awareness of my own failings to keep me company.
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sharolyn
Mike = funny.
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harmonicminer
Seriously, be sure you get every last bit of the rot. And if there is mold, get it all. Then, when you think you’ve cut/scraped it all out, wipe down the whole zone using commercial bleach…. not Clorox, the real, undiluted stuff you can only use with rubber gloves. Wear breathing protection (not the little white masks, but the over the head double canister style used by pro painters), ventilate while working.
Then replace whatever is necessary for the structure to stay up and support walls.
If you miss even a little mold, it has a way of continuing to grow in there, for a long, long, time, then giving you a nice surprise one day.
Speaking from sad experience.
I’d bleach Congress if I could.
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Steve
Generally agree with harmonic miner… though the wimpy clorox will probably work. You could also spray the bleach to reach in little crevices.
Did you track down the source of the leak?
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michael
Getting Real (Estate), Part 1
Gretchen and I are putting an offer on a home today. After 10 years of renting, we’re ready to jump into being real live grownups, with a mortgage and everything.
Please pray for us. There are multiple offers on the property, and we’re trying hard not to get our hopes up, but it really feels like home to us.
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Zack
Prayer submitted, Mike. Can we get some details? Location? Size? Estimated landscaping maintenance costs? (Damn, that lawn looks massive!)
From the photo, I’m gonna guess…..Glendale? Or Pasadena, assuming you’ve got some side-job we don’t know about.
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michael lee
3 bedroom, 2 bath, 2100 square feet, 9,600 square feet of yard, a pool in the backyard. The whole second story is a master retreat, with bedroom, bath, and a sun-room for reading. Hardwood and exposed beams throughout. The landscaping will cost us approximately 10 hours a week of me busting ass.
It’s in the far Northwest corner of Monrovia, tucked up against the mountains. 10 minutes from school, 5 minutes from the Metro, 20 minutes from our current house.
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michael lee
Basically in Sierra Madre.
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michael lee
Let’s just call it Sierra Madre.
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sharolyn
Can I just say that MY hopes are up?! What an exciting time. Keep us posted.
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michael lee
Are you excited, Sharolyn? Excited enough to help out with the down payment? Aw, come on, you know you want to …
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aly hawkins
Wow, Lee Family. That’s great! Praying…
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sharolyn
If my job exists next year, I’ll send ya a housewarming present!
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Zack
I think Sara and I are coming over Thursday night to talk wedding flowers, etc. (Well, Sara and Gretchen will do that, while you and I get reacquainted with Bookers)
Can you try to make the home purchase before then? That gives you 3 days. Chop chop.
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michael lee
Yeah, shouldn’t be a problem. Can you and Sara do the home inspection for us?
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Zack
No problem. I remodeled our bathroom, so I should be able to tell you if your new joint is structurally sound, or not.
I just checked our home value at Zillow.com – and apparently, our little house “Sold for 1.3 Million Dollars”. (Instead of the paltry sum we paid for it) Check the link:
http://www.zillow.com/homedetails/17515-Cohasset-St-Van-Nuys-CA-91406/19953009_zpid/
Apparently, everything you read isn’t correct on the internet. Hmmm…
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michael lee
Well, the offer has been submitted. We should have an answer back by 6pm tomorrow.
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Gretchen
If we get our offer accepted can we fly June down to tell us what colors to paint the rooms please?
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michael lee
If not, I’m painting everything puce. June? Your move.
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Gretchen
Oh, and I have it in writing that my husband promised to bust his ass mowing and taking care of the yard. Yes.
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michael lee
internet writing does not a contract make. thus spake … me.
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Eric
You have my prayers, too, Gretchen & Mike. Buying our first house was the scariest thing we ever did – a duplex we bought with another couple. Take deep breaths.
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JC
Praying as we speak. It looks absolutely beautiful. Place for me to stay when The Dailies are recording?
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Sharolyn
Gretchen said ass.
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Chad
June and Gretchen have potty mouths! Tee hee!
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michael lee
Oh, Gretchen has a total potty mouth. Everyday, she’s all like “frick this” and “shoot that” and “aw crap” the other thing.
Oh, and when you’re old enough to read this, Sophia, I’m totally kidding. Your mother is perfect. Don’t swear. And don’t flirt with boys. They are playing a different game than the one you’re playing.
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Chad
Ain’t that the truth.
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june
June would love to come down and talk paint colors. Lovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelovelove it.
(Hmmm…and I could bring Chad and Erica’s painting and the one for Zack…that I haven’t done yet. Hmm.)
We plan on keeping our boys semi-locked up for years…due to the pre-programmed “game” they are “playing.”
Shuddershuddershuddershuddershuddershuddershudder. -
michael lee
Somebody swooped in and offered $25k more than us. We’re not willing to get into a bidding war, so it looks like this one is going to pass us by.
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Sharolyn
What a bummer. I have confidence that God has something even better for you in the future! And, I respect you for not bidding any more than a healthy price. Hang in there!
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Gretchen
poo.
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Sharolyn
Gretchen, you can say the swear word and I won’t tease you.
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Bruce Siegel
Hi Michael,
Sorry to intrude on this thread, but I don’t know how to reach you otherwise. Whatever happened with your ganglion cyst? I too am a pianist, and have a ganglion on the palm side of my wrist. I’m particularly interested to know if you have a doctor here in L.A. you like. I’ve got a good one, but am thinking about getting a second opinion.
Thanks!
Bruce -
Zack
Wow. Cysts. Awesome.
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Eric
Michael and Gretchen;
I empathise with your house-hunting. It’s scary and emotionally draining, and I respect you for knowing your limitations.
We bought our first house, a two-family (do they have those in California?) with another couple at just about the peak of Boston’s previous housing bubble 20 years ago. That turned out to be a mistake. Not only did the market collapse within the year, but while we assumed this was a long-term commitment, they decided to move back to MS only a few years later, but not to sell (because of the “down” market), leaving us de facto landlords (sheesh).
Another few years, and suddenly it’s “must-sell” time for our co-owners. We thought briefly of buying the home we loved so much, but a) couldn’t afford it and b) now knew we REALLY didn’t want to be landlords, so we reluctantly went house-hunting again, while at the same time finishing all the cosmetic renovations we’d started and trying to time the sale of our two-family with the purchase of another home.
For half a year, we went to open houses most Saturdays and every Sunday. This was at the beginning of the most recent surge in housing prices (almost 10 years ago now – hard to believe), when real estate was turning very quickly. We’d show up at open houses only to be told the property had already been sold. Our agent advised us not to offer less than the asking price of anything we were interested in, and, indeed, most of the places we liked sold for much more than the listing price. We were trying hard to be realistic about what we could afford, and there was no way we could look at something in our price range and offer $10K more. Things got even more urgent when we accepted an offer on our current home, and now had only two months to find a place to move. We prayed. Janet kept telling me to be patient, just as Sharolyn said, “I have confidence that God has something even better for [us]…”
One week, in our local paper, there was a photo of our dream home – a modest 1600 sq ft colonial, about 100 years old (we have quirky dreams) – and the listing realtor was our broker. Janet called him to find out why he hadn’t told us about this house, as it met almost all of our qualifications, even down to the asking price. He told us the ad had gone in by mistake, that the sellers were hoping to fix the place up and get a bidding war going, and weren’t ready to sell yet. She told him to make an offer on the house (I have to tell you we’d not even been inside at this point), which he did, and they refused.
However, only a few weeks later, our broker called us up and told us the sellers, having run out of both patience and cash for the renovations, would like to discuss our offer. We finally got to see the inside, which had so many of the details we loved in the house we were selling, and, well, it was and still is the perfect home for us. Old, quirky (just like me), cozy, cluttered and – home. As Janet puts it, “My next home will be an urn.”
I only pray your waiting will be short and the reward will be as great.
Eric
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michael lee
Bruce – I dealt with the cyst in a manly way, by ignoring it until one day I put too much weight on my wrist, and the cyst popped. Hasn’t been back since.
To the rest, thank you for your encouragement. Eric, it’s helpful to hear stories like that. Right now, that house feels like it was perfect, and like all things that exist on in imagination, the flaws were minimized and the benefits maximized. It’s hard to picture what would be more perfect than this house, but I remain confident that something better is coming.
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Zack
Oh believe me, Mike. Something better is coming. Sara and I looked at dozens and dozens of houses. It seemed endless. We put in offers, and each time, we never felt 100%. When we bought our current house, we put in the offer and literally FELT that it was the right house at the right price at the right time, etc. It’s strange how these things play out sometimes…
PS – Right now, I don’t care what your Realtor says, there’s no reason to offer more than a cent over asking. Your price range is falling, STILL. Don’t let ‘em scam you.
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michael lee
This house sold for $250k over the current asking price a year ago. At the peak, it appraised for almost a million. I know that what you’re saying is true for most properties, but this is one that had a ton of equity in it at the asking price.
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Bruce Siegel
Thanks, Michael. Yeah—sometimes it happens that way. Mine’s more stubborn, unfortunately.
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michael lee
Well, the deal is possibly back on. Pray for wisdom.
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june
Praying.
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aly hawkins
I’ve been out of the loop for a few days. What’s the scoop?
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michael lee
We accepted their counter-offer this morning. If they re-sign the offer (which we think they will), we’ll be in escrow by the end of the day.
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aly hawkins
Holy smokes! Still praying…
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Zack
AHHHHHGHGHGHG!!!! I can’t take the stress! Seriously, I thought I could just watch this unfold from the sidelines, but I feel somehow involved. Fingers re-crossed…..
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michael lee
We just bought a house.
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Zack
YEAHHHH!H!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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Zack
And now……the daily rape that is escrow. Call me when you need someone to just sit and cry with you.
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michael lee
are you busy tonight?
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aly hawkins
CONGRATULATIONS, my loves! I can’t wait to help you move in. (I think it’s our turn to help anyway.)
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Zack
As a matter of fact, I’m not busy tonight. Email me back, and let me know what time Sara and I are coming over. And yes, we’re bringing the GOOD wine. Any excuse to celebrate, that’s been my official motto for about a year now. (Hence your mid-week, 30-something birthday bash)
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michael lee
Also, if anyone would like to hire Gretchen or I to babysit, or teach piano lessons, or do some light yardwork, give us a call. We’re now totally completely poor, and are willing to do anything for cash. Anything, Bobby.
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Stick
Wow, turn my back and suddenly you’re broke like the rest of us! Congrats!
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june
WHOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
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Jon Mann
That’s awesome. My wife and I just had our offer accepted on a condo in Orange County and we’re dealing with the wonderful process of escrow. Good times.
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michael
The Christmas House
Well, Phil and Sandy’s (Gretchen’s folks) house in norther Washington is now the official Christmas House.
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Linda
Beautiful!
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Chad
I dunno. It just doesn’t feel very Christmas-y. Where are the palm trees?
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aly hawkins
Place matters.
I hate moving. I’ll just get that out there so there’s no confusion. I’ve moved over 20 times in my young-ish life (not counting packing up every three months for three years at boarding school, or the come-and-go college thing) and that’s more than enough for anybody, even anybodies who like moving, which I’m pretty sure I was clear that I don’t.
On the other hand, there’s nothing quite as wonderful as finally moving out of [read: escaping] a place you don’t like living, especially if what’s waiting for you on the other end already feels like home. (Aside: Moving also doesn’t suck quite as much when you have good friends who help out — not just with the truck loading and whatnot, but also with the “Here, let me pack up your kitchen. That way you don’t have to evaluate whether or not you should keep the seven-eighths-empty container of chili powder that looks like an abandoned ant farm. I’ll decide, because I can evaluate the chili powder without sentiment or equivocation.” I’ve decided that the next time I move — God grant that it shall be far, far in the future — I’ll have friends pack up my whole house. There are enough pressing decisions to be made in the world without me having to agonize over near-empty spice bottles. Aside ends here.)
Ash and I bought a condo about three years ago, which seemed like an excellent idea at the time. They say that home ownership is the best investment you can make outside of an education, bloo-blee-bloo, and we took the plunge. Newsflash: Home ownership is the best investment you can make if you actually want to live where you buy a house. They neglected to mention this small (yet not insignificant) caveat, and we spent the last three years trying to make the best of living in a condo and a community that just never felt like home. In case you’re wondering, three years is a really, really long time to make the best of anything.
We sold our little place to a guy who seems genuinely excited about it (God bless him), and found a kick-ass little house to rent (God bless Craiglist) with a big back yard, hardwood floors, a separate space for Ash’s studio and Thai, Italian and Texas-style BBQ all within walking distance…not to mention terrific landlords, Marty and Eden, who live on a ranch in Santa Paula with four rodeo horses and 14 (yes, fourteen) rescue dogs.
When Ash and I came to take a look at this place three weeks ago, I walked through the side gate and thought, “Hey, it’s our home.” Being a third culture kid, I’ve maintained for a long time that “home” is people, not a place. But I’m starting to re-evaluate this position — I’m beginning to think that place matters.
This idea is still totally alien to me, but I think there’s something to it. What I’m thinking is that it’s not necessarily specific places — i.e., Wewoka, Oklahoma or Okefenokee, Georgia — it’s the vibe of a place that makes it matter. The values vibe. (Not speaking politically here.) Everybody has something that is really important to them, and if the place they’re livin’ doesn’t let them do that thing with some ease and regularity, it’s never gonna feel like “home.”
Before Ash & I got married, I lived on the Reisser Compound in what is still affectionately known as The Puppy Palace. Long ago, The Palace was Carrie’s playhouse, then a poolside changing area, then Zack’s House of Unspeakable Acts, then the birthplace of a litter of Chelsea the Wonder Dog’s (RIP) puppies, then a storage unit for stage costumes, then my apartment. (Now?? I don’t know. Maybe its original purpose has been revived for Ella.) But as booty as The Palace was, it was home — I could easily and regularly do the things that are important to me: hang out with friends in a beautiful place talking about and doing life, and be creative. And I haven’t had that since.
But…six years later (to the day), I find myself again, finally, “at home” in a place where I can do the things that are important to me — to recap: hang with friends, be creative — with ease and regularity. (And I don’t have to live in a former canine maternity ward to do so. Which is a plus.)
The point of this incredibly over-long post is that I’m grateful. God is good even when things are crap, and I’m glad to have experienced crap if only to recognize this important fact. But man, I’m a fan of blessings…and I can’t wait to share them with you. The side gate’s open. I’ve got fixin’s for s’mores. Bring a beverage. Make yourself at home.
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Sharolyn
S’mores… you’re killin’ me… I’ll be right over. :) I have some unorganized thoughts on this topic. Thanks for the influence of your insights.
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Zack
Just so you know, Ally – every one of those Acts is, in fact, speakable.
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June
Congrats! Whoo-hoo!
Three years IS a long time…that’s how long we lived in Nashville…we kept waiting to start liking it. Then, we moved to California.
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Morphea
Ugh, Nashville. I hate Nashville.
I’m so, so happy for you, Aly and Ash.
Cerise
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Karen
Why is Nashville so bad? We like it here…aside from the humidity in the summer and the freezing cold without actual snow in the winter and the bugs.
Place really does matter. Great post Aly! I am so glad you and Ash have found your place.
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grammy
And just for the record, the Puppy Palace is about to be de-spiderized, painted, and indeed returned to its original function, a princess playhouse for said granddaughter, Ella. I bought the wooden miniature kitchen at Costco for $100. It has 4,724 parts. I propose a backyard pool party during which you all put the blasted thing together!
Aly, Paul and I want a place on your calendar for weird food, great wine, smokes and hanging with the twos of youse in your new digs!
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June
And, when you’re all done with the toy kitchen, you can come help us put together the play structure we bought at Costco. It weighs 800 pounds and has more pieces than that. Aly and Ash, if the new place doesn’t work out, you can take up residence in it. It has a roof and a table after all…and you could sleep on the slide. Well, one of you could.
If it weren’t for the weather, the geography and the culture, I’d love Nashville! Hey Karen, saddle up one of those bugs and head west sometime…”dry heat” is not a myth. (And I’ll load up the iced tea with a pound of sugar to make ya’ll feel at home.)
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Karen
The funny thing is I am mostly from California. Unfortunatly for us I don’t think we can ever move back to California. I miss it a lot sometimes. I am not a sweet tea drinker, can I come have a diet coke?
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June
Of course you can have a diet Coke…and I’ll add some fresh lemon. And for the record, I can understand why people like “Nashvull”.
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Morphea
I’m not saying Nashville is bad. I know many people who live and visit there and love it. I just don’t like it there. I spent the worst 6 weeks of my life to date in that city and I never want to see it again. So, Karen, it’s not your citay. It’s just me. And the crazy dickheads who helped make it a plague-ridden location for my psyche.
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Karen
I can definitely understand that. There are places like that for me too Cerise! Maybe you can come visit and we can fix that horrible memory with a better one.
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Morphea
That would be kewl. Thanks!
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Steve, 
sharolyn and 6 others are discussing. 
Linda are discussing. 
michael lee 9:53 am on 30 May 2009 Permalink
my parents’ home, that is. This is their wine cellar.
Chad 2:10 pm on 30 May 2009 Permalink
At the Lee’s house, the wine is simply out on the counter in a massive bowl with a ladle.
You can take the kid out of the ‘rillo, but you can’t… um… make him drink wine from a… this is falling apart on me.
sharolyn 9:53 pm on 30 May 2009 Permalink
This picture provides more questions than answers.
The scotch tape is a nice touch.
michael lee 10:32 pm on 30 May 2009 Permalink
it’s meant to be a zen exercise in contemplating my childhood. there is no answer. only wine jar.
Dean 11:03 pm on 30 May 2009 Permalink
If they use scotch tape on wine “jars”, what kind do they use for whiskey???
Cerise 1:18 pm on 3 June 2009 Permalink
Wow, Chad, even your failures make me laugh.