I might have mentioned, we almost moved back in May. It didn't work out (the real estate market is cooling off but still pretty cut-throat), and since then, we had the water heater bust a pipe (again), and we had to do a bunch of remediation and repair. Then James decided we needed to move the pigeon/chicken loft/tool shed, because we realized it's probably on the corner of our leach field. This weekend, Luke actually pointed out to us that the leach field has a leak (not at the shed; elsewhere). And Sunday night, we had to call our a/c guys for a recurring problem we have with our a/c drain clogging.
Note: I started this blog post on October 13. Since then, our heat pump has malfunctioned and fortunately the company we use came out and didn't charge us. But also, we've realized that water is STILL getting into our house in the master bedroom. James pulled out the molded baseboards and drywall, and we pulled back the carpet and pad (again) to dry out the subfloor. We fixed a roof thing, tested it, and it seemed okay. But there was STILL WATER GETTING INTO THE HOUSE. We later realized there was a crack in the masonry, and maybe that was it? While James was fixing that, Laura noticed that our non-functional outdoor shower (only has hot water, so is scalding after a few moments) was kind of moldy around the handle. Got a plumber out to look at it and they closed off the valves, one of which (hot, of course) was dripping... for who knows how long. THEN we got a leak detection company out today, and they actually capped the lines to the shower just to be extra safe, and they could not make any more water come into the floor. For good measure, they caulked around the shower trim we had installed five months ago. I'm still nervous. I'll be un-nervous after a month has passed and we've had a good rain and there is no more water getting into the house.
Moving on...
This kind of thing makes me think we should rent.
We talked about it: selling our house and moving to a rental. The problem is that if you rent from a private owner, they're liable to sell the house out from under you. And if you live in an apartment... well, James's options for a workshop are pretty bleak.
So, we had our back lot surveyed, and spent the past month working through a "program" from an architect James found and really liked. We've sent the program in, and he's going to ponder it for a while and get started on some drawings. We know we want to build with eco-friendly materials like cob or straw bale or earth bags. We know we want the house to be whimsical and modest. We know we don't want to be paying property tax on three lots anymore, too.
James is thinking about re-platting our lots so that we take the part of the second lot our yard is on and make it part of the lot where we're planning to build, mostly to assure that we have lots of trees and no one decides to buy this house on the two lots, move the fence in, clear the second lot, and built another house right up on us.
So, hang on to your butts... we'll see how this goes!
I just threw that key in the trash. It's been on my key ring longer than any other key. It's the key to my parents' house in McKinney... a house that's in the process of not being theirs anymore, as they've been signing papers for the past 8 minutes that transfer ownership to someone else. But more about that in a few.
After my sister and I graduated from high school and moved away from Van Buren, AR, my dad was transferred with his work from Fort Smith to Las Vegas, Nevada. A year or so later, my first husband and I moved from Siloam Springs to Las Vegas for his work. Several years later, my sister and her family relocated to Las Vegas from the OKC area.
In the mid-2000s, my family moved to north Texas for a job. A couple of years later, you guessed it, my parents also took advantage of the tail end of the real estate bubble in Vegas and moved to McKinney. Soon after, literally a week before they were set to move to Colorado, my sister's family moved to a fairly nearby town.
Then in 2012, my sister's family and I moved to Austin (separated by a couple of weeks). It has taken four and a half years, but my parents decided to move to Temple to be within a more reasonable driving distance of their grandkids.
I might be wrong, but I feel like this is it for all of us. I feel like we're all here for the duration. My sister has two kids in early elementary at TSD, so they're tied to the town for at least a decade. That, plus my brother-in-law owns a local business. For us, we just bought a house. We want to be here at least until Mal grows up and we're old enough to be overwhelmed by the yard (which I feel will definitely happen). As for my parents, they picked a place close to a set of doctors with whom they feel comfortable, preparing for increased need as they age, should that arise. Oh, and they have friends in the area, too.
So, here's something kind of interesting about the lady who's buying my parents' house: First of all, they had multiple offers, including one from a developer. Even though that's often seen as a "sure thing," my parents went with a private offer, the first one they received (if I recall correctly). It's neat because the lady who's buying the house is a single mom and a nurse. She has a 5-year-old son who will love the neighborhood, the multiple playgrounds within walking distance, and the other kids who live there. I'm proud that my parents considered the well-being of their neighbors when they decided to take a chance on a private loan instead of going with an investor. I know, I know; I've been a renter, and I am not looking down on tenants. But in that area, they're having happen what happened in Las Vegas: big companies opening, people moving into town, developers buying stuff up to rent and/or flip, and the property values plummet. So now, everybody wins. I hope the nurse and her child have many happy times in the house and in the area.
Here's something I found shocking, though: The lady had written my parents a letter, and included a picture of her kid. She talked about how she could picture him running around in the yard, and how much they would enjoy the space. Have you ever written a letter like that when making an offer on a house? We have. We were told it helps your chances in the event of multiple offers. Well, guess what? My parents weren't shown the letter until after they'd made their decision! Yikes! Just something to keep in mind... just because YOUR Realtor has you do this, that doesn't guarantee that THEIR Realtor is going to show it to the sellers.
Anyway, it looks like this year my mom might get her wish to have the whole family at her house on Christmas. Moving on...
Today at church, someone asked me what brought me to Austin.
Dang it, that's a tough question.
On the "blithe, breezy answer" side, there's that my sister's family was moving here, and the timing was right.
But, really, I wanted to be honest... without being *too* honest, if that's a thing.
So I said something like this: "Well, after I graduated college in Arkansas, I lived in Las Vegas for ten years then moved to North Texas. We lived in a small town, and were really invested in our community and church... then we got divorced, and I don't think anyone knew what to do with us. So I tried for a year and a half, but realized that we had to get out of there."
And when I said it, it seemed like it felt like a fresh wound, which it doesn't. I am not hurt or resentful about it, but still, when you put it out there like that, it comes out as new because they've never heard it before.
With hindsight, I can see so clearly exactly what God had in mind for the forced march, and it has all been in His perfect timing, including healing and blessing and the incredible life that is mine today.
Back then, I actually did understand what the people around me were trying to do, for the most part. I know I was loved. I know I was cared for. I know people were trying to save me from myself.
But, dammit, it hurt. It hurt a lot, and for a long time, and then I couldn't take it anymore.
I know a couple of people, at least, who feel responsible for my leaving town, but, really, it was just a giant burden of hurt and unease that was not remediable if we stayed in the same place with the same people who had the same world view and couldn't or wouldn't consider that a truth other than what they believed might exist.
However...
What I wish I had said Sunday, and wish everyone could know is this: The tailspin that was my life from 2010 until 2012 sent me in a direction I never would have gone on my own, but where I needed to be.
It hurt to lose friendships I thought were solid. It hurt to break fellowship with my church, where I'd served for six years. It hurt to lose the opportunities I had to write and create and do the things I thought God wanted me to do.
However, that total break from everything I knew and with which I was comfortable gave me room to look at things differently. I realized that I'd been mistaking church-related productivity and "good works" as a relationship with God. Then, even more importantly, I started realizing that I'd fallen into an easy agnosticism... with God.
What I mean is this: When D was approaching the teen years, I was thrown some really tough questions. At the time, I felt like the most honest answer about some of those difficult things was: "Any time we can't make sense of what God says or does, it's just because we are human and can't fathom his ways..."
D's refusal to hear that when faced with the death of Egyptian firstborn, instead angrily blinking away tears and declaiming that there was no excuse to kill children ever, stuck with me... well, until this day. It will forever.
It got me to asking myself more questions. It made me look for better answers. My immediate thought was, "Is the UN somehow more moral and ethical than the God that I serve?" The answer to that had to be "no," so what else was there?
I know that some people talk about how faith is a tension, but some things go beyond tension to being completely unable to coexist in one single paradigm, and breaking down what I knew of God, what the Bible said, what the function of the Holy Spirit was, how Jesus interacted with sinners, and what does that all mean for me, for my family, and for how I view the world and coming to the conclusions (some of which are still malleable) I reached would not have been possible within the faith framework constructed around me where I was at the time.
If you want specifics, feel free to reach out. I want to be respectful of everyone, and I don't have permission to tell other people's stories... just mine.
But suffice it to say that I have developed a deeper sense of empathy, am a better parent, am in a more ideal position to love my husband, and feel like I see my actual purpose now more than I ever have. I'm even okay with being patient until my little one is more independent and I have the freedom to step out in the ways I know I am supposed to. So I guess that's another benefit: patience.
So, yeah, the overt reason I moved to Austin was because the pressure of living my new life in an old space was too much... but the real reason was that God had a plan beyond and through my pain, and he's still leading me through it. It's beautiful. I wouldn't change a thing.
Wanna know a secret? We were planning to move to Montana. Or Washington state. Away from Texas. Away from 82-degree Boxing Days and 90+ degree/humidity months without end in the summer.
We'd been planning it for a year. D already had winter clothes picked out. I had looked at snow suits for Mal on Zulily. We had a mortgage officer. We were READY.
And after months, we realized something: James can't find work in quaint little towns in the Northwest. Kalispell, where we looked originally, doesn't have much tech. And if James found a job where he could telecommute, we still couldn't get internet fast enough to do what we need to do. Spokane has more tech jobs, but two things: One, pay. It's like 60% what James makes here, and housing isn't 60% cheaper (it's less, but not THAT much less... as opposed to Kalispell, where housing is as much or more than here). Two, lots of places out that way still use Microsoft in their programming, and James has zero desire to work for a MS house ever again.
We really had researched everywhere, determined not to move anywhere that the comfort index wasn't at least a little better than here, because, why else go? And after seriously 13 or so months of this stuff, after discussions about how much James actually likes Austin (when does he have time to enjoy it?!), we realized that it made sense to look here, but closer to his office.
At the same time, our apartment complex was getting more ridiculous with their stuff, including a call asking me to make sure our kid didn't come into the office (which is attached to the clubhouse, which is open to residents) in just a diaper because it WAS a place of business and he was being "distracting." Even after one of the assistant managers had told James it was no problem. We wanted out, and soon.
We found a house we really liked near where we were living. It backed up to some trails that lead to a small park, and it seemed to be within our price range. We called the mortgage company we'd been working with when we were considering Seattle, and asked if they could help us in Texas. Turned out, they could and even though we worked with a guy who is in Bellevue, WA, the local office is actually in the same building where James works! He never realized this until a visitor to his office walked him out a different way and he saw it then.
Before we looked at the house we really liked, we had a "come to Jesus" moment of sorts. We were told that, yes, we'd been approved for actually a little more than the asking price of the house. However, we are not young people. If we took out a 30-year loan and paid it off exactly as timed (and we're REALLY hoping to pay it off earlier), we'd be in our mid-70s, still trying to come up with this giant payment. Plus, we could do it now, but it would have meant tightening the belt on some fun and maybe even some generous things.
So we recalibrated.
We dialed it back. WAY back.
And we started looking nearer James' work instead of down where we were.
The first weekend in November, we went to see two houses and really liked one. Enough to make an offer on it. It was kind of quirky, and neat, and literally right off of Mansfield Dam. It was likely the least expensive house on that street, with most in the half-million and up range. We made a super lowball offer, though, because it was obvious that it needed a bit of elbow grease to make it habitable and comfortable... And we don't do elbow grease, so we have to pay people.
The seller took offense, at first answering with a "No, thanks," then when pressed by our Realtor to make a counter offer, said, "Come back with a serious offer and we'll talk."
Which we were prepared to do. We offered much less than we were willing to pay. I don't know why we did that, but in the meantime, I'd found the house we ended up buying. We came to see this house on the following Tuesday, and... the house was fine. Adequate. Not bad. Pretty nice. But it was the yard that made me tell the Realtor, "I think we just bought this house."
After we saw the house, my older niece, who'd come to watch Mal so we could concentrate on the house (he immediately fell in love with his room, playing "peek-a-boo" in the closet the whole time), Mal, and I had a picnic lunch at Jones Brothers Park. It was raining, but we were under a pavillion. It was beautiful. Knowing how close that would be... It just added to the house's value.
The sales process was riddled with frantic hurry-ups and unbearable waits, as per usual... but buying a house in 2016 is so much easier than buying a house in 1999! Legal digital signatures save so much time and gas, it's just incredible.
Our house is on two lots, and there was a third we wanted, too. So the big hold-up in our process was the site survey. The lot is extremely wooded, and he had a difficult time getting in there and getting everything staked out. They expected the survey to be completed the day after Thanksgiving, and it didn't actually come back until about 8PM on December 14, nearly a week after our contractually-named closing date.
We'd rescheduled so many things (moving box delivery, movers, carpet stretcher, etc.) several times, and were looking at a December 27 move-in, when the planets aligned and the VA appraisal came back in like 18 hours, then the mortgage company funded and the title company scheduled everyone so that we were able to close on December 16. We moved December 22, and have been unpacked since Christmas Eve (I'm a little manic about that whole thing; I hate living out of boxes!).
James' office is closed the week between Christmas and New Year's, which is cool because it's like a paid vacation that doesn't count against his time off, so it's nice that he's able to rest so much of the week, instead of busting it like we did over the weekend!
Thank you thank you thank you to everyone who's been excited with and for us. It's a pretty big deal. My husband has never owned a home before, and it's seriously bringing out a side of him I didn't know he had! He has gone to the hardware store pretty much every day but today; he got a work bench; he is talking about all of this stuff he wants to do. It's darn sexy, if you asked me. Which you didn't. Moving on.
D is settled in and drawing. Mal is finding so much to explore, and asking every day for "Star Wars and slide," which is the park, where there are 2 Darth Vaders up for Christmas... and a slide. We are exploring the town and neighboring areas, and meeting our neighbors. So far, so good.
Lots of handyman visits this week. Hopefully by Friday, the money hemorrhage stops, as we'll have everything paid for and handled. Oh, one delightful (?) thing we've found is a lot of the local companies coming out only take cash or checks. Who still has those?! James has to drive in to Cedar Park in the morning to get a money order from our bank. We're going to open up an account with the local bank tomorrow or Friday, too.
So that's it. I'll shut up about it now. Maybe. :) Again, thanks for hanging in with us during this big transition! It's nice to be home.
I very seriously spent most of today walking around saying or thinking, "I can't believe we live here." As we explore more on foot, I'm realizing what a gem we have found, and how very very blessed we are.
The day started with Mal and I waking up... IN HIS ROOM! We got him a futon mattress, and he fell asleep in my arms on the couch last night, so I carried him in there and laid down with him. Eventually, we're planning that he'll sleep alone, but just getting him used to sleeping in his own room (even if he chooses to sleep in our room, too) is a great step in the right direction.
And, actually, it was a win/win because my husband has gotten to the point where he snores pretty much constantly, and I'm a light sleeper. So I got some zzzs, he got more from my not waking him up to ask him to roll over, and Mal was... well, normal. Woke up about 5 times before the "we're about to get up" superfeed.
Anyhoo, we got up and played a while, and Mal ate a couple of the super awesome protein balls I'd made last night. Then James got up, and we had some scrambled eggs. We let Mal open his presents because I'd talked last night to D, who preferred to sleep in.
Okay, here's something funny. When D was little, I always made sure we were up and dressed and camera ready. Kid Number 2? It was a warm Texas night, so...
He was really happy to see Trolley!
I had gotten 4 packages of Haribo gummies for the kids, and Mal picked out the Twin Snakes. The ides of that is that there are two snakes connected at the head and tail, and one is sweet while the other one is sour. It happened that there were 3 combinations, and that the red, orange, and yellow snakes were sour while the green, blue, and purple snakes were sweet. It took Mal one time of looking at each to figure that out, then he would pull them apart, eat the sweet one, and then put the other snake back in the bag. This evening, he tried to power through a lemon one, and James got that on video. It was hysterical.
This morning, we went on a walk, having seen the entrance to "Canyonlands Trail" about 1/5 of a mile from home on our walk yesterday, and decided to take it to see where it led.
I'm so so glad I hadn't researched this, because we found beautiful surprises around every corner. It was a gorgeous (and not too long) walk. I'm glad James felt like he could make the trip.
It was amazing! And this whole circuit from our house to the trail to the end and taking the streets back to our house is under a mile. However, I did it twice (later with D).
For lunch, I made pigs in a blanket, because when I was at the store the day after we moved, it was the only thing I could fathom being able to throw together, as tired as I was. I also cooked some delicious Dr. Praeger's Broccoli Cakes as a side dish.
When D got up, more presents were open. No pictures for that, because, you know, teen. But we hold the smiles in our hearts, natch. And D loved the chocolate candy seashells and little glass dragons.
Mal watched some Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood while we all kind of did our own thing, then this afternoon, when we thought Mal was ready to take a nap, James fell askeep on Mal's bed so the kiddo and I went on another walk.
We walked over to the park, because Mal kept saying, "Star Wars" and "slide." (There are 2 Darth Vaders, a C3PO, and a Yoda in the Christmas display.) After that, we walked up the hill toward town.
I love this bank of mailboxes. We've been told that our route is a training route, so the actual delivery sucks. But this... it looks like people just set their mailboxes up at the end of a road in no numerical order. There is more than one street included, and they seem random. Some of the boxes don't even have numbers at all. I also wonder how they decided the base: Home Depot 5 gallon bucket with concrete? Cinder block? Something else? There is an art about it. I might be a nerd.
We found tha tthe Exxon was open, although it was posted that they were closing at 9 PM "to celebrate Christmas." The bar next door was open, the parking lot packed. We got a soda and I was ready to go home, but Mal kept asking for "Star Wars" and "slide." So we went back to the park.
For the first time ever, I got to see the park in the sunlight! When we looked at the house, it was an overcast Election Day. Since we've been here, it's been cloudy and/or raining. But look!
THEN we walked home.
With all of that walking, two circuits of the Canyonlands Trail, then to the park, to town, back to the park, and home, and I still only walked about 3.5 miles.
For dinner, I made sliders, and, man, were they fantastic. We had some herbed super sharp cheddar, cut up a tomato, and sliced a couple of avocados.
Mal was getting pretty weepy about stuff, so we got into the car to show James a Christmas tree that we'd seen whilst out. On our way home, he fell asleep and is once again in his room. I told James that I'm going to sleep with him a few more times, and then talk to him to see if he wants to try it on his own. But I think he needs to know it's coming and agree to it.
Anyway, that was our Christmas, low key, like two of the most important people in my life like it. I had a great day, too. Again, walked around a lot, thinking, "OMG, I can see this lake within 2 minutes of leaving my house ON FOOT."
I adore this house (pictures coming next week, if the sun will cooperate). We are so fortunate to be in a small town where we can walk to the library; to a park where we can play, picnic, and fish (and later, go out on the water, if we get a kayak or something); to a few small restaurants; to that amazing trail that also skirts the lake; to a gas station for emergency candy and soda runs. Yesterday morning, one of our neighbors brought us a pan of cinnamon rolls. I just Facebook friended the relative of a friend of a friend because she lives just across the way (and don't even ask how I know this information, because I'm not sure!). James met a caddy-corner neighbor when he came out one day, and found out that guy helped paint our fence the last time the place was remodeled. So we know the names of 3 of our neighbors, almost 1 a day! I *should* know 4, but I cannot remember cinnamon roll lady's husband's name, even though she told me. I only remember hers because I seriously used it in every sentence while she was standing at the door.
I feel more at home this fourth day of living here than I've felt since I can remember (I told James the Nuthaus might have been handicapped because I moved into there with such excruciating back pain, it was more than six months before I could even sit on the couch or lounge at all). We are blessed, and I'm feeling it mightily this Christmas night, even as I relax in the comfort of our extremely effective air conditioning.
We regretfully left the Nuthaus behind around June 23, for the first time.
We spent the weekend filling up Bungo Boxes (which are awesome) with almost the last of our stuff, I went to work, Laura shut the cats into Mal's mostly-empty room, the movers loaded up the truck, and then we should have been done.
I dropped by that evening to pick up the cats. I wish I had a video of that trip. It wouldn't be as much "fun" as most: I've learned that it's safest to just lock the varmints up and make them suffer. (It's not like we were driving cross country...that's a totally different lesson).
I think that our contact at the management company started pestering us the next day about finishing up our move out. Because, hey, if they manage to get this sucker re-leased before the end of July, maybe we could get some of our last month's rent back!
I don't remember the leasing arrangements when I moved in. Laura handled those. I think she probably paid for them. I don't remember whether the security deposit was something like "first and last months' rent, plus the pet deposit" or anything along those lines.
I do know that we tried to convince the management company to let us vacate the house when we actually left. They played hard-ball about most of the nickel and dime bullshit. They let us turn off the gas, since it's such a huge safety concern, but our lease wouldn't allow us to do things like turn off the lights or stop paying them rent.
OK, that was fine. If history is any indicator, the house will probably stand vacant for ~8 months while the owners hire more illegal immigrants to perform more sub-par work to make the place look like its habitable for the next set of suckers who come along.
That sounds pretty bitter. It is, but not the way it sounds.
I absolutely love that house and its location. I wish there'd been enough room to justify buying it. And that we could have afforded it. Maybe that and the middle house on the lot would have been perfect for our family.
Except for things like the plumbing, the crazy wiring, the lack of insulation, the storage, the insane price...it's probably best that we walked away when we did.
When I did walk away, I made a point to turn off absolutely everything. Laura had already emptied and scrubbed out the fridge. The lights and fans get triggered pretty much randomly (our guess is RF from the fire station up the street), so I made absolutely certain to turn off those switches.
That also turns off the kitchen stove. (Yes, the wiring in this house is extremely screwy).
And, of course, I made it a point to turn off the A/C at its thermostat.
I felt really bad for the housecleaner who showed up a day or so later to deal with the grime we'd left behind. I wouldn't have blamed her at all for turning the A/C down to 60, cranking the job out, then putting things back the way she found them when she left.
According to our contact at the management company, she did a horrible job (in all fairness, the dishwasher is covered with Mal's grubby handprints). And we needed to finish getting our shit out, ASAP. Even though, technically, it was still our property.
For anyone who isn't all that familiar with Laura and me, that particular tactic will never work. Unless you're going for the exact opposite effect.
We made it absolutely clear that we're all in favor of someone else moving in quickly. It would be wonderful if they'd take back ownership, do whatever it is they must to make the place habitable, and start making money from new renters.
But not on our dime. Until they're willing to take ownership back, that is our house.
The management company pestered us with little blips and nudges about getting the rest of our stuff out of the way so other people can move in until we expressed our concerns that they might do the unthinkable and bring in contractors on our dime.
Which they'd already done.
We got last month's electric bill today. Somehow, the Nuthaus (where I had very deliberately done everything except unscrew those stupid fuses, because we want to maintain the terms of our lease) had a higher electric bill than Vogel Futter.
Laura was planning to go back to try to figure out what was going on, but Mal thwarted her plans. So I swung by there on my way home. I really should send them a bill for the 2 hours that I wasted.
I can really sum up the entire problem by writing that the thermostat was set at 77 when I arrived. We don't set the thermostat that low in a home we're occupying.
And that most of the ceiling fans were running. And the lights that power the stove were turned back on. And that the front hose bib had been left dripping.
Oh, and some construction company had added closets to all three "bedrooms."
Mostly. There are a bunch of signs taped to the doors promising "closets soon!" And now there are some really big Ikea-style shelving units pretending to be closets in all three of the private areas.
Maybe the owners think this will let them legally market the place as a 3 bedroom? Laura says the closet's the distinguishing feature. Our home inspector refused to classify areas as bedrooms unless the windows opened...I don't know where the line gets drawn.
But I do know that I'm extremely upset that our landlord took back just enough ownership to commission work in a house for which we were legally responsible. I suppose his lawyer's already told him it's OK.
I really want to double-check with my lawyer. I could find lots of uses for those shelves.
We're all unpacked and getting settled in, but there are still a few things that are in flux.
First, we're still in the last month of our lease at the Nuthaus. We signed the lease here on May 25, so got to pay double rent in June and July. It's been real. When James was unemployed, we didn't take anything out of our savings, but for the past couple of months, we did have to draw on that. We can replace it by the end of the year, most likely, but still. Urgh.
Well, the day we moved, I turned off, unplugged, and opened the refrigerator, then I turned off the air conditioner. Someone came and cleaned it two days later, and I feel really bad because I didn't think about the climate control for the cleaner. As it turns out, she didn't do that great of a job, anyway. I got the following email recently:
"Hi Laura,
"I am at the Nueces and wanted to make sure you knew there were a few items still here.
Also I'm not sure if more cleaning is going to be done, but there definitely things that were missed... When you come back, be sure to not lock the top locks.
"Thanks Laura, have a great 4th!"
Those "top locks"? They are the tenant deadbolts. You lock them to keep management out when you don't want them in. We'd locked the one in front because, frankly, it seemed more safe to go out the back door and have the front as locked up as possible in order to avoid having someone break into a vacant house.
But the tone of the email made me angry. It's still our house. We can lock the deadbolts if we want.
Anyway, yesterday, I received another email from her:
"Have you been back to Nueces yet? If not, that is fine since you technically still have the property through this month, I was just wanting to check."
Heh. Um. No.
We don't "technically" have the property. We actually, legally, and fully "have" the property through the end of the month. We have paid for it. It is ours. Does it need work to be made ready for the next tenant? YES. Should you be in there getting it fixed up now so that you can rent it quickly? Probably. Were you willing to let us stop paying rent early to facilitate that? Nope. So TOO DARN BAD. I'm not going back until July 31, and I told James I'm tempted to start taking our trash over there and storing it in the middle of the living room.
That is *definitely* not WJWD, though. I need to get over it. Here's a song to help us all feel better.
So.
Oh, here's something; We'd been thinking about what to call this new place, and we decided upon...
*drumroll*
VOGELFUTTER!
Yes, that is from henceforth the name of this here apartment; Vogelfutter.
Also, some people have asked me about "Team Dave's" and what that means. It's our family. We don't all have the same last name, so we can't go by our collective surname. How did we come up with "Team Dave's"? I don't know that I'm at liberty to explain that. You'll have to ask James. I mean, you know I'd tell you. But I think he likes it being our secret.
Now...
Before Daphne and I moved to Austin, I found New City Church (then Soma) online. I knew if the church were as its website seemed, we'd end up staying there. And we did. Week One, and, bam, it was the place we were supposed to be. Hard to believe that was nearly three years ago!
When we started, there were a very few kids around Daphne's age. Now, there are none. It's been that way for a couple of years, actually. The nearest to her age is more than two years younger; older, it's at least 7, meaning young adult.
I've heard and read that parents should go to church wherever their kids feel comfortable (and the truth is being taught, obvs), because whereas I, as a mature believer, can find camaraderie and/or spiritual "supplementation" on my own if need be, my teenager is unlikely to do that. I need to make it as available for her as possible.
When I first realized she wasn't meeting anyone her own age, we did BSF for a year. She did meet a friend there, but that friend had to move suddenly over a year ago. We homeschool and Daphne is not interested in many extracurricular activities, so I need for her to be somewhere that she can meet actual people at her stage of life, and she's just not.
So, it's with a great deal of mixed emotions that we've started visiting churches around Vogelfutter. And now I remember how much I *hate* visiting churches. It's like dating, but worse. Thus far, we haven't had any of the "ten minutes in, I can tell you this is a big 'no' but how do we leave without being rude?" situations.
The church we visited last week I liked immensely and would love to go there. I didn't put Mal in the nursery because it smelled like poop, and I could barely get him signed in without my eyes watering from the stench. I mumbled something (true) like, "He can't make it the whole time, so I'll bring him in when he gets restless" and ran out of there knowing I wasn't going to condemn him to the odor.
They had a cry room, and they had a lot of songs and responsive readings and even a children's sermon, so there was plenty of activity and moving. We spent about 8 minutes in the cry room, not because Mal was crying, but because he was ready to crawl everywhere.
I liked the atmosphere of the church, and enjoyed the service (as much as I could focus and participate), but Daphne "wasn't really feeling it."
Today, we visited a place that is pretty literally across the highway from our apartments. It took longer to strap Mal in than it did to drive to the building.
Daphne said it reminded her of "where we used to go to church in Sherman, but not as big." She doesn't remember that when we started going to church there, it was actually about the same size (300 people). The temperature in the sanctuary was about 64 degrees.
Mal LOVED the nursery, actually. I went in and sat with him for about 15 minutes, then left for the rest of the message (only about 15 more minutes) and he didn't even notice I'd gone. He had fun playing.
There was a middle school gathering during that hour, but Daphne stayed in service instead. Besides, I think she'd be starting 9th grade if she were in school, so she'd probably be in with the high schoolers. The high and middle schoolers actually meet every Sunday at 4, so next week I'm thinking about taking Mal to the earlier service (this one fell in the middle of his usual nap time) and then taking D to the student service.
Anyway, there wasn't a definite "no" today, or really last week, either, but there wasn't a giant neon "yes!" And the whole undertaking is... ehhhhhh. I just want to magically be somewhere that Daphne feels she's a part.
Oh, one thing going for this place today, besides the fact that it's less than a mile away, is that they have a mother's day out program, and when Mal is 14 months, he'd be able to do that for a few hours two days a week. Especially if he likes the nursery and is in the same general vicinity, that might be a good way to transition him to hanging out somewhere besides under my mammaries for a bit. (Sorry if that was too graphic.)
None of this is worthy of its own post, but it's stuff I wanted to get in writing:
1) I had mentioned some "Malstones," and later remembered this: Mal knows the word and the sign for "ball." Although he can't (or doesn't) sign or say "ball," if I sign or say it, he'll look for or at a ball. What he will do, though, is pop his mouth (like making an exaggerated "p" sound), which apparently I do when I sign but don't vocalize "ball."
2) Mal also finally has the "high five" down. He's still pretty wimpy and a bad aim with his slap, but he's tracking and can respond to the request.
3) Typically, we've been eating out at least twice every weekend, then maybe another time during the week... so thrice weekly. Since we can't walk to dinner, we haven't eaten out in almost two weeks.
4) I'm dirtying and washing a lot of dishes (see #3... and #5).
5) I feel like I won "The Price is Right"! When we moved, I got a new big Crock Pot (our old old one broke when the attic door at the Nuthaus swung open and knocked it off of the refrigerator, then our new old one was like 1 quart and we could only make tiny things), a new Cuisinart Griddler, a new Ninja (or Fruit Ninja, as my sister kept calling it, so now I call it that), and a new ice cream maker (on sale for $25 at Breed and Company right before we moved). We used all four last weekend! I made two batches of ice cream (sweet corn blueberry and chocolate peanut butter), chicken breasts with potatoes and carrots (the potatoes were from Farmhouse Delivery), macadamia-crusted talapia and butternut squash soup and artichoke and spinach dip with the Ninja, and perfect pancakes and veggie burgers and s'mores on the Griddler! Also, I make smoothies pretty much every day, and Mal barely shares them with me. I'm loving it!
6) Oh, yeah, we subscribed to Farmhouse Delivery, which is a lot like Bountiful Baskets, I'd imagine. Every 2 weeks, we get a large bushel of local produce. So far, so good. The potatoes were amazing. The cucumber was delicious, too. And onions. The only thing in which I have been disappointed so far was the tomatoes. They tasted like the grocery store instead of the ground, which I've come to expect from fresh tomatoes.
7) Daphne is still hanging out and talking more. I think this might be an insurance policy for her, but I'll take it.
8) Mal's Cherokee blood (James' side) is coming out in his ability to tan. Except for in his fat creases, which are 100% white like I am.
This post will likely be interesting only to far-flung family, but if you're not one of them and still want to hang out, then pull up a chair and we'll begin the presentation.
When I was taking pictures today, I noticed two things:
1) Now that we have storage, we use it! Our enclosed storage places are crammed to the gills with stuff; it already looks like we've been here for years. Then again, we did get about eight months' worth of cleaning supplies on accident this week. On the other hand, we were very minimalist about our open spaces, keeping them... well, open. Even though we have more square feet here, we got rid of several items of furniture. I think we were just ready to be able to move around without having to skirt inanimate objects.
2) Our apartment looks kind of like my college apartment, when I would do things like make a stylized wall mural of a garden out of construction paper during my down time at work. Some of my friends post pictures taken inside of their houses, and the homes look like they could be in a magazine, or that their art could be hanging in a museum, or that their furniture was goblin made and will only attract that which imbues it with more power. Or something like that.
Our place isn't like that. It's full of things that have sentimental value to us, or make us happy. I looked around and saw things made by my mom, James, Daphne, myself, James' mom (a LOT of stuff), my friend Jana, my niece Mackenzie, a lady here in Austin I've never met but feel like I know because of her awesome Etsy store, a talented artist we had the privilege of meeting in Haiti, and even a quilt started by my dad's mom and then finished by his stepmom when his mother passed away. Then there are things that used to be James' grandmother's (our couch, the toaster oven, that wobbly green cup), or things in Mal's room that were Daphne's, mementos from our wedding, the Wall of Awesome II (Team Dave's version), gifts to me from James, toys from both James' and my childhood, etc.
And our place will never be in a magazine, but it's "us" and I love it. I hope you like it, too!
P.S. It occurred to me AFTER I took the pictures that I could have turned on more lights in the front rooms and they wouldn't have looked so "blue," but I never turn on the lights in those rooms and didn't think of it! I <3 natural light!
The entryway, with an homage to The Nuthaus. That awesome old chest has all of our games in it, and since my dear housemates will take off their shoes at the door (here, it's better for the carpet, anyway), we're putting them on top of the chest.
Needlepoint of my favorite Bible verse by my mom, key holder by James when he was in maybe middle school, picture and other Nuthaus remnant from James' mom, and an homage to the RV my friend Lauren gave us before we left Sherman. Good stuff. Oh! And an entry closet for coats and our vacuum. I know that might not be exciting to you, but it's pretty thrilling to this gal!
The living/dining/kitchen. Carol reluctantly welcomes you.
Right as you walk into the main part of the apartment.
Above the couch is our "Haiti wall": Three pictures I took when we were there, and then a painting by Cadet Richard. To keep the country in our thoughts all of the time, and to remind us that we need to go back as a family.
To save floor real estate, we stacked! Here, there's a bookshelf that used to be in our bedroom on top of a shelving unit that was in the dining room. Then we also put one piece of a bookshelf from Daphne's room sideways, the only way it would fit. It works!
The kitchen...
...with all of its glorious cabinets! Oh, and we ordered plate hangers today. James' mom gave him a set of plates from the 25th WDW anniversary, and we're going to display them above the top cabinets.
I have a pretty awesome view from the kitchen, not counting the cat's butt.
The kitchen features a real, live pantry, believe it or not!
And the laundry room is the most ridiculously packed place already! Washer, litter box, recycling, and dryer.
Plus our cleaning supplies, tools, Christmas stuff, memorabilia from James' and my 40 years of pre-married life...
... more cleaning supplies, cat provisions, bags (you have to take your own to the grocery store in Austin), and beer-brewing supplies.
Then there's our room. we bought a king-sized bed. We realized, finally, that Mal will probably be sleeping with us a bit longer. We put the bookshelves that used to be in the living room in here.
Have I mentioned that we have a great view?
All by Daphne: pencil, marker, and ink tile.
The print on the right is one James had bought because he loved it, and I had it framed for him last year (after he'd had it for several years!). It's called "Leaning Lovers." so I paired it with a few of our own things; two photo books, one from when we first started dating and one from our wedding; the rose and ribbons that were attached to my wedding dress; and the heart we saw a blacksmith make at a Celtic music fair.
Next to the bookshelves is a set of doors that looks like a little closet.
But it's actually a magic portal into another dimension. Well, okay, it's two closets and a bathroom.
The closet to the left, jammed tight with all of our clothes. We needed to save the other closet space...
...for James' office!
And here's our bathroom, home of the best shower curtain ever, and one more of the three litter boxes. (And, yes, I LOVE our new litter boxes!)
The hallway going to D's room and bathroom (which is also the guest bathroom).
Daphne's humble abode.
The new desk ended up being a perfect fit with her bed! And she can look at herself in the mirror if she needs to reference a facial expression. She just has to access her closet through the right door.
She downsized a lot of stuff when we moved! But there are probably close to 100 stuffies in her closet. She loves her stuffed animals.
Little buddy's room.
What? How did this happen?! Two Mals?
Since Mal's just a baby and doesn't have an opinion about that kind of thing, his closet became storage for a lot of our stuff. James' guitars, amps, a heater, and some other stuff is in there. Also, several cool toys D has outgrown but that I want to save for him, and also all of the free Pull-Ups (8 bags) that we ended up getting for free (see previous post).
Of course, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the patio. I'm just going to post some pictures and you'll get the idea. Thanks for touring our new place!
Okay, this is technically the view from Mal's room. Nice, huh?
