A full six weeks and still no sale.
We seem to have put our house on the market at an odd time in the calendar: August. Most schools in the area were back in session the following week, so any families who were once interested in relocating were immersed in back-t0-school activities. Shortly after that, we had a triple digit heat wave. Then a volatile stock market was the topic of concern. The next thing we knew, we were in the midst of Labor Day weekend. Two open houses were held in that first few weeks and only a few requests for private viewings.
Then things picked up, just a smidgen. After weeks of cleaning every morning and every night, avoiding cooking (to avoid extensive kitchen cleaning and odor abatement), paying someone regularly to clean the house top to bottom, the requests for private showings picked up. One couple from out of state expressed interest, as has an investor. We are, however, still waiting for offers.
I could complain about how tired I am, how much my back hurts from the daily 3-hour round-trip commute; I could complain about living with a fraction of my possession, clothes and general use items (because the house is staged to look like it could be lived in, not that it is lived in). I could complain about the lack of time for a social life or seeing my grandkids less often than I like; I could fret out loud about the fact that I am falling behind at work and haven't yet prepped for my tenure committee meeting next week, or plenty of other things.
That all sounds so depressing.
Things I am happy about and grateful for: living alone with my husband for the first time ever, my job, the newest grandbaby, and all the small things that make me happy like a PM with a Facebook friend and wonderful and supportive friends.
We are certainly learning how to clean up after ourselves more often (like every time we move an inch) and appreciate meal planning more than ever before. The house looks great, if not a little bit sterile.
So for the moment, we're still here.
Lake Mendocino
Saturday, September 26, 2015
Sunday, August 23, 2015
House Hunting Chronicles: Are we there yet?
Our youngest daughter has safely moved out of state.
Our son and his family have purchased their own home and are settling in nicely.
Our home is patched, painted, scrubbed, uncluttered, staged and on the market.
Damn we are tired!
So far no bites on the house.
So far no definitive choice to purchase in Ukiah.
Have I mentioned that we are tired?
Are we there yet????
Our son and his family have purchased their own home and are settling in nicely.
Our home is patched, painted, scrubbed, uncluttered, staged and on the market.
Damn we are tired!
So far no bites on the house.
So far no definitive choice to purchase in Ukiah.
Have I mentioned that we are tired?
Are we there yet????
Wednesday, July 22, 2015
House-Hunting Chronicles: Anticipation
I don't always do well with suspense or most forms of anticipation, really. If we are watching a particularly suspenseful show on TV, I often walk out of the room and return once the story-line tension is broken. I hate waiting to find out what will happen in my soaps, so I am a spoiler-finder-expert. If I am living with suspense too long in my regular life, my sleep patterns become fragmented, I am more and more edgy, and then the anxiety begins to rise until it results in a panic attack (or two, or more).
As a grown woman, I have certainly learned to live with some
And sometimes it's fun.
Right now, not so much.
The daughter has moved to Oregon; the son and soon-to-be-daughter-in-law have signed papers for their new home and will take possession either Friday or Monday. The hubby and I are taking one last trek to Ukiah to look for potential homes next week. With any luck, we will have our current house on the market in a few weeks.
The list of To-Do items is shrinking in an odd sort of way. Some items have been there for months, others come and go in a few hours, and of course there are always newer, smaller details, to add. The big, costly fixes are completed. Family photos are boxed as is anything we can live without for a few months. The deep cleaning, rearranging and staging has begun.
Anticipation is HIGH!
Two nights ago I was up awake all night, my mind pinging from one idea, one worry to the next, bobbing and weaving through the yawns. I tossed and turned, got up and stretched, went downstairs to sleep on the couch in the cool air next to an open window. Even though I wasn't checking the status of the homes we like online, I could see the pics in my mind's eye every time I closed my lids. Long term, this can be really bad for my health. I am in NO mood for another hospital stay. Something has to be done.
So, I'm trying some different things to help. I already walk every day. I already eat pretty well. What else? Last night I spend some time with guided meditation and a sleep aid; I slept through the night for the fist time in months. It was such a relief. Today I did some cleaning and some grading (I am still teaching summer school online). I'm trying to focus on the many tiny steps of the process, on the positive, on breathing. I'm trying to be in, and enjoy the moment.
Max is trying to show me how it's done.
As a grown woman, I have certainly learned to live with some
And sometimes it's fun.
Right now, not so much.
The daughter has moved to Oregon; the son and soon-to-be-daughter-in-law have signed papers for their new home and will take possession either Friday or Monday. The hubby and I are taking one last trek to Ukiah to look for potential homes next week. With any luck, we will have our current house on the market in a few weeks.
The list of To-Do items is shrinking in an odd sort of way. Some items have been there for months, others come and go in a few hours, and of course there are always newer, smaller details, to add. The big, costly fixes are completed. Family photos are boxed as is anything we can live without for a few months. The deep cleaning, rearranging and staging has begun.
Anticipation is HIGH!
Two nights ago I was up awake all night, my mind pinging from one idea, one worry to the next, bobbing and weaving through the yawns. I tossed and turned, got up and stretched, went downstairs to sleep on the couch in the cool air next to an open window. Even though I wasn't checking the status of the homes we like online, I could see the pics in my mind's eye every time I closed my lids. Long term, this can be really bad for my health. I am in NO mood for another hospital stay. Something has to be done.
So, I'm trying some different things to help. I already walk every day. I already eat pretty well. What else? Last night I spend some time with guided meditation and a sleep aid; I slept through the night for the fist time in months. It was such a relief. Today I did some cleaning and some grading (I am still teaching summer school online). I'm trying to focus on the many tiny steps of the process, on the positive, on breathing. I'm trying to be in, and enjoy the moment.
Max is trying to show me how it's done.
Friday, June 5, 2015
House Hunting Chronicles: Online Pictures: the Good, the Bad and the Creepy
Online pictures are deceptive in multiple ways; the often make the homes look bigger and brighter than real life; sometimes you can tell that a special distortion lens was used; I mean, how many rooms have rounded edges? Often a portion of tiled floor or ceiling outlined in crown moulding is all that is shown in a bedroom or bathroom shot. At times this will signal poor picture taking skills; more often than not it signals poor maintenance outside of the lens view. The blurry pictures drive me nuts; the upside down or sideways ones are only mildly annoying. The inadvertent reflection, errant leg or sneaky pet are always amusing.
Some online photo galleries will include 5 pics of the front porch and none of the bedrooms. Others don't show all the bedrooms, which is almost always suspicious. Although, I will say that one missing bedroom was left out of the line-up because it was being used as a closet; that person had enough shoes to rival Imelda Marcos!
Scent doesn't translate visually, so we can't see the pervasive bleach smells that will push me back out a door faster that you can say interest rate increase. Bleach often signals to me that the owner isn't really ready to sell. A slight musty odor is always a concern as well, especially when you just can't find the culprit.
Up close, a beautiful looking house may have tiny bedrooms and even smaller closets. One bathroom we were in had been remodeled beautifully and artfully, but it was barely wide enough to turn around in.
One laundry room, located in a partial basement, was only accessible via steep, scary stairs that looked like they led to Uncle Touchy's Naked Puzzle Room. Inside the room smelled overtly moldy, the concrete floor was disintegrating in places, and the single cupboard door only had one shelf above a deep, dark hole.
The agents we have met are an interesting lot as well. One praised us for buying while we are still so young. Another expressed concern that at our age our knees might give out if we bought a two-story house. One uttered the phrase, "Right on," about every other sentence.
"It's a process" has become my mantra.
We have found two houses we like. One is priced far higher than we are comfortable paying, and I don't think we will be able to talk them down to our level. The other is not in the location we wanted and is slightly smaller than we would like, but it has a great yard, garage and storage space.
Maybe our next house isn't on the market yet. We shall see.
Some online photo galleries will include 5 pics of the front porch and none of the bedrooms. Others don't show all the bedrooms, which is almost always suspicious. Although, I will say that one missing bedroom was left out of the line-up because it was being used as a closet; that person had enough shoes to rival Imelda Marcos!
Scent doesn't translate visually, so we can't see the pervasive bleach smells that will push me back out a door faster that you can say interest rate increase. Bleach often signals to me that the owner isn't really ready to sell. A slight musty odor is always a concern as well, especially when you just can't find the culprit.
Up close, a beautiful looking house may have tiny bedrooms and even smaller closets. One bathroom we were in had been remodeled beautifully and artfully, but it was barely wide enough to turn around in.
One laundry room, located in a partial basement, was only accessible via steep, scary stairs that looked like they led to Uncle Touchy's Naked Puzzle Room. Inside the room smelled overtly moldy, the concrete floor was disintegrating in places, and the single cupboard door only had one shelf above a deep, dark hole.
The agents we have met are an interesting lot as well. One praised us for buying while we are still so young. Another expressed concern that at our age our knees might give out if we bought a two-story house. One uttered the phrase, "Right on," about every other sentence.
"It's a process" has become my mantra.
We have found two houses we like. One is priced far higher than we are comfortable paying, and I don't think we will be able to talk them down to our level. The other is not in the location we wanted and is slightly smaller than we would like, but it has a great yard, garage and storage space.
Maybe our next house isn't on the market yet. We shall see.
Saturday, April 25, 2015
House-Hunting Chronicles: Unplanned Open Houses and the Hard Sell
The last time that we wanted to buy a house, we had to rely pretty heavily on our real estate agent. This time around, I can do a great deal of the legwork myself and I enjoy it.
I monitor zillow.com, trulia.com and realtor.com so that I can see houses as they arrive on the market along the 80 mile search area. I can get into any house with as little as 24 hours notice just by filling out a form on Zillow and making a (blind) date with a New Agent.
One such event occurred in the same town that I was already having doubts about. We met a very nice New Agent at a house that looked mostly empty. It was a short sale (don't let the name fool you, it was the result of a foreclosure) and the current owner was still living in the residence (although I think she must have been sleeping on the couch as there were no beds in the house). We were in the house about 30 seconds when another agent burst in and began a hard sell speech.
He was the Listing Agent, and he was going to preside over the open house. Keep in mind that until that moment there was no advertised open house and the New Agent (NA) who had agreed to show us the house had left three unanswered messages for the Listing Agent. Listing Agent (LA) entered in full rapid-fire-information-sharing-mode as if we had been in the middle of a conversation with him before he walked in the door ("and my finance guy will be here in about 15 minutes" and "I've got your flyers and cost estimates ready to go"). He followed us outside and talked about the particulars of a short sale. He seemed genuinely surprised that I knew the basics already (short sale only means that the bank who owns the mortgage and the property will be getting less money that is owed on the property once the home sells). The fact that the deck he was perched on was shaped like a giant sack and penis was lost to him. (The house foreclosure was apparently the result of a lengthy divorce; the design of the deck gave us some real insight as to why the marriage failed).
LA stood on the deck and talked at length about the long drawn out process that a short sale can become. Despite his need to hear himself talk, this was interesting to us because we aren't ready to put our house on the market yet and so having several months to move forward sounded potentially very good.
The house had some real potential; it was larger than our current house and the backyard had some privacy. The carpets all needed to be replaced, but there were some surprisingly neat looking nooks and crannies that we didn't expect to see in a tract home. The kitchen was pretty nice as was the general layout. The price wasn't bad and the deck could easily be replaced. NA had some good advice about upgrades and potential strategies for making an offer. We talked to one neighbor who had nice things to say about the area, but the best part of the day was the live band playing down the street.
The music was loud, but not painful, and it was so well done I swore it was recorded, but Joe insisted it was live. He was right. Upon further exploration, we found three guys hanging out in a garage playing the drums, guitar and bass. They were playing a Stevie Ray Vaughan song ("Couldn't Stand the Weather"), and other blues/rock music. We also followed a nearby road to a portion of Lake Sonoma right over the hill that had breathtaking views. The music, the weather, the views, the quiet of the neighborhood and the price were all enough enticement to lure us back to the house for one more look and some serious consideration. NA had already departed, so we went in alone and were set upon immediately by LA and his Loan Guy (LG).
We managed to take one more quick tour before being locked in a battle of wills with LA and LG as we tried to exit. This time LA focused on how quickly short sales can go and that we really needed to find ourselves a more experienced agent than NA if we wanted to purchase this house. LG was insistent that he could get us a better interest rate than the mortgage company we are currently working with (and who have treated us like family). So they bad mouthed everyone we talked about and when LA said, "What is keeping you from making an offer on this house?" I should have answered truthfully with, "YOU." But alas, I didn't, and we simply allowed them to chase us out the door.
We stopped by the only grocery store in town for sandwiches. My bread was stale.
I'm not moving to that town.
I monitor zillow.com, trulia.com and realtor.com so that I can see houses as they arrive on the market along the 80 mile search area. I can get into any house with as little as 24 hours notice just by filling out a form on Zillow and making a (blind) date with a New Agent.
One such event occurred in the same town that I was already having doubts about. We met a very nice New Agent at a house that looked mostly empty. It was a short sale (don't let the name fool you, it was the result of a foreclosure) and the current owner was still living in the residence (although I think she must have been sleeping on the couch as there were no beds in the house). We were in the house about 30 seconds when another agent burst in and began a hard sell speech.
He was the Listing Agent, and he was going to preside over the open house. Keep in mind that until that moment there was no advertised open house and the New Agent (NA) who had agreed to show us the house had left three unanswered messages for the Listing Agent. Listing Agent (LA) entered in full rapid-fire-information-sharing-mode as if we had been in the middle of a conversation with him before he walked in the door ("and my finance guy will be here in about 15 minutes" and "I've got your flyers and cost estimates ready to go"). He followed us outside and talked about the particulars of a short sale. He seemed genuinely surprised that I knew the basics already (short sale only means that the bank who owns the mortgage and the property will be getting less money that is owed on the property once the home sells). The fact that the deck he was perched on was shaped like a giant sack and penis was lost to him. (The house foreclosure was apparently the result of a lengthy divorce; the design of the deck gave us some real insight as to why the marriage failed).
LA stood on the deck and talked at length about the long drawn out process that a short sale can become. Despite his need to hear himself talk, this was interesting to us because we aren't ready to put our house on the market yet and so having several months to move forward sounded potentially very good.
The house had some real potential; it was larger than our current house and the backyard had some privacy. The carpets all needed to be replaced, but there were some surprisingly neat looking nooks and crannies that we didn't expect to see in a tract home. The kitchen was pretty nice as was the general layout. The price wasn't bad and the deck could easily be replaced. NA had some good advice about upgrades and potential strategies for making an offer. We talked to one neighbor who had nice things to say about the area, but the best part of the day was the live band playing down the street.
The music was loud, but not painful, and it was so well done I swore it was recorded, but Joe insisted it was live. He was right. Upon further exploration, we found three guys hanging out in a garage playing the drums, guitar and bass. They were playing a Stevie Ray Vaughan song ("Couldn't Stand the Weather"), and other blues/rock music. We also followed a nearby road to a portion of Lake Sonoma right over the hill that had breathtaking views. The music, the weather, the views, the quiet of the neighborhood and the price were all enough enticement to lure us back to the house for one more look and some serious consideration. NA had already departed, so we went in alone and were set upon immediately by LA and his Loan Guy (LG).
We managed to take one more quick tour before being locked in a battle of wills with LA and LG as we tried to exit. This time LA focused on how quickly short sales can go and that we really needed to find ourselves a more experienced agent than NA if we wanted to purchase this house. LG was insistent that he could get us a better interest rate than the mortgage company we are currently working with (and who have treated us like family). So they bad mouthed everyone we talked about and when LA said, "What is keeping you from making an offer on this house?" I should have answered truthfully with, "YOU." But alas, I didn't, and we simply allowed them to chase us out the door.
We stopped by the only grocery store in town for sandwiches. My bread was stale.
I'm not moving to that town.
Friday, April 24, 2015
House-Hunting Chronicles: Open Houses
I'm a huge fan of open houses. I love to peek inside of other people's homes.
Okay, that sounds weird. Let me try again.
Open houses offer insights and ideas for decorating, landscaping, layout and upgrading. I have learned a lot about different people's tastes and cemented my own. I have seen houses that I consider to be ug-ly that sold quickly and for much more money than I thought possible. I have seen how much, or how little, location, smells, colors, and square footage matter.
In the spirit of checking out all the potential cities along an 80 mile stretch of freeway, we have spent several Sundays moving in and out of homes.
One of the first was in a town I have been resistant to. I can't make a list of reasons why I don't like the town, but there is a vibe there that bothers me.
We arrived just when the house was scheduled to be open. As we stepped out of the car, we spotted a woman attempting to run across the street carrying a sandwich board. She was running behind schedule. We were willing to wait while she got set up, but she insisted that we follow her into the house. The routine, so far as I understand it, is that the owner vacates for the 2-4 hours that the home is open to prospective buyers. The agent was quite surprised that the owner was still in the house. And DIDNT leave.
It was a really, really nice house. The asking price was more than we want to spend, less than our house will likely sell for, but it was a nicer house than we currently live in. It had a lovely view of a large grass covered hill that was dotted with trees. Walking toward the view through the french doors off the living room, we were also treated to the presence of a horse on the other side of the fence. It seemed quite friendly, and was completely nonplused by the stinky cleaning rags hanging from the clothes line along the back patio. Did I mention that the inside of the house reeked of bleach? I had to work pretty hard to ignore the rags while the owner slowly took them down, chatting the whole time about the horse, the view and the fruit trees along the side fence. The agent also chatted nonstop.
Usually when a house is open and for sale, it is pretty carefully staged. Most of the furniture personal belongings are removed. The idea is to leave things a little sparse, which makes the home look larger (usually a good thing), and allow buyers to visualize their own belongings in the space. Apparently someone forgot to tell this homeowner, or she had so much stuff that she forgot to remove the extra couches and coffee tables from the bedrooms or the stacks of stuff in corners. She was also uncomfortable having strangers in her home because she insisted that the agent follow us from room to room. This led to an uncomfortable moment in the master bedroom when the agent was overly enthusiastic about the view of (the same) hill from the bedroom windows. Hand clasping, sighing and mmm-ing noises were involved.
It was clear that we really liked the house, so much so that the agent asked if we are working with anyone. That is a very common question. She wanted our agent's name. I told her. She wanted our agent's phone number. I pretended it wasn't programed into my phone. That's okay, she did a google search and called our agent while we were walking out the door ("I just want to share a few tidbits with her"). As soon as we were in the car, I texted my agent with a pre-emptive apology for the THREE phone messages this stranger agent would leave.
Nope, I still don't want to live in that town.
Okay, that sounds weird. Let me try again.
Open houses offer insights and ideas for decorating, landscaping, layout and upgrading. I have learned a lot about different people's tastes and cemented my own. I have seen houses that I consider to be ug-ly that sold quickly and for much more money than I thought possible. I have seen how much, or how little, location, smells, colors, and square footage matter.
In the spirit of checking out all the potential cities along an 80 mile stretch of freeway, we have spent several Sundays moving in and out of homes.
One of the first was in a town I have been resistant to. I can't make a list of reasons why I don't like the town, but there is a vibe there that bothers me.
We arrived just when the house was scheduled to be open. As we stepped out of the car, we spotted a woman attempting to run across the street carrying a sandwich board. She was running behind schedule. We were willing to wait while she got set up, but she insisted that we follow her into the house. The routine, so far as I understand it, is that the owner vacates for the 2-4 hours that the home is open to prospective buyers. The agent was quite surprised that the owner was still in the house. And DIDNT leave.
It was a really, really nice house. The asking price was more than we want to spend, less than our house will likely sell for, but it was a nicer house than we currently live in. It had a lovely view of a large grass covered hill that was dotted with trees. Walking toward the view through the french doors off the living room, we were also treated to the presence of a horse on the other side of the fence. It seemed quite friendly, and was completely nonplused by the stinky cleaning rags hanging from the clothes line along the back patio. Did I mention that the inside of the house reeked of bleach? I had to work pretty hard to ignore the rags while the owner slowly took them down, chatting the whole time about the horse, the view and the fruit trees along the side fence. The agent also chatted nonstop.
Usually when a house is open and for sale, it is pretty carefully staged. Most of the furniture personal belongings are removed. The idea is to leave things a little sparse, which makes the home look larger (usually a good thing), and allow buyers to visualize their own belongings in the space. Apparently someone forgot to tell this homeowner, or she had so much stuff that she forgot to remove the extra couches and coffee tables from the bedrooms or the stacks of stuff in corners. She was also uncomfortable having strangers in her home because she insisted that the agent follow us from room to room. This led to an uncomfortable moment in the master bedroom when the agent was overly enthusiastic about the view of (the same) hill from the bedroom windows. Hand clasping, sighing and mmm-ing noises were involved.
It was clear that we really liked the house, so much so that the agent asked if we are working with anyone. That is a very common question. She wanted our agent's name. I told her. She wanted our agent's phone number. I pretended it wasn't programed into my phone. That's okay, she did a google search and called our agent while we were walking out the door ("I just want to share a few tidbits with her"). As soon as we were in the car, I texted my agent with a pre-emptive apology for the THREE phone messages this stranger agent would leave.
Nope, I still don't want to live in that town.
Sunday, April 12, 2015
House-Hunting Chronicles: Real Estate Agentry and Zillow
Choosing a real estate agent isn't a problem because we love, love, love Christine Jones from Century 21 Bundesen Realty in Petaluma. I've known Christine since our kids were in grammar school at the same time. She helped us find and buy an investment property last year. She gets me; she really gets me. She understands that I like to do a lot of my own leg-work, that I enjoy research and do most of it before I ask her for help. She even knows when to disagree with me.
Christine will help us sell our house when the time comes, which is after we help all our kids find new housing. She will likely help them find homes.
Before we are ready to sell out house, we are looking around, doing some exploring and getting a feel for potential new towns. We have an 80 mile stretch over two counties to check out. This is quite the learning experience.
For those of you who like to know what your house is worth without having to talk to a person, you probably have been on zillow.com. The Z-estimate can really make or break your day. And the estimate is almost always wrong. Our neighbors sold their house last year, and despite the sales price,the Z-estimate was $100,000 less that what is was sold for. My uncle refinanced his home and the official appraisal came in at several hundred thousand dollars less than zillow said it was worth. My house was listed as being worth $1.3 at one point. NOT.
It is, however, a good source for other information for current selling price, time spent on the market, price and tax history, that sort of thing. You can even fill in the online form asking to see a property that is listed for sale, and get a call or email in return from a local agent pretty darn quickly. The first time that I did this, I assumed that I was contacting the listing agent. It was the second (or third) time that I did this that I learned my assumption was wrong.
Apparently agents pay a monthly fee for referrals from zillow.com, so when I fill in the online form, the next agent in the queue is contacted. Suddenly I find that I have three agents, one for each major area we are focusing on, including Christine.
I also have multiple Facebook friend who are agents who would gladly help us out. I also have several friend who know real estate agents who would gladly help us out. My good friend and neighbor is in the process of studying for the real estate exam. My sister-in-law is in the process of studying for the real estate exam. I've seriously considered studying to take the real estate exam myself.
I have spoken to so many agents along an 80 mile stretch of Highway 101 that I feel like I am being unfaithful to Christine, and subsequently every agent that I meet or talk to along the way.
*sigh*
It's a process.
Christine will help us sell our house when the time comes, which is after we help all our kids find new housing. She will likely help them find homes.
Before we are ready to sell out house, we are looking around, doing some exploring and getting a feel for potential new towns. We have an 80 mile stretch over two counties to check out. This is quite the learning experience.
For those of you who like to know what your house is worth without having to talk to a person, you probably have been on zillow.com. The Z-estimate can really make or break your day. And the estimate is almost always wrong. Our neighbors sold their house last year, and despite the sales price,the Z-estimate was $100,000 less that what is was sold for. My uncle refinanced his home and the official appraisal came in at several hundred thousand dollars less than zillow said it was worth. My house was listed as being worth $1.3 at one point. NOT.
It is, however, a good source for other information for current selling price, time spent on the market, price and tax history, that sort of thing. You can even fill in the online form asking to see a property that is listed for sale, and get a call or email in return from a local agent pretty darn quickly. The first time that I did this, I assumed that I was contacting the listing agent. It was the second (or third) time that I did this that I learned my assumption was wrong.
Apparently agents pay a monthly fee for referrals from zillow.com, so when I fill in the online form, the next agent in the queue is contacted. Suddenly I find that I have three agents, one for each major area we are focusing on, including Christine.
I also have multiple Facebook friend who are agents who would gladly help us out. I also have several friend who know real estate agents who would gladly help us out. My good friend and neighbor is in the process of studying for the real estate exam. My sister-in-law is in the process of studying for the real estate exam. I've seriously considered studying to take the real estate exam myself.
I have spoken to so many agents along an 80 mile stretch of Highway 101 that I feel like I am being unfaithful to Christine, and subsequently every agent that I meet or talk to along the way.
*sigh*
It's a process.
House-hunting Chronicles: The Decision
A year ago I was quite happy with my house, my town and the people I lived with. The only viable potential change on the horizon was possibly purchasing the lot next door and expanding our backyard.
That was before April when, on a whim, I applied for a full-time tenured position at a college 80 miles away. After multiple years of interviews and near misses, the interview process went smoothly all the way through to the offer. I finally found my niche. The commute seemed doable because it is a really a beautiful drive with very little traffic. Besides, I was used to the life of a freeway flyer, driving between campuses multiple times a day.
Despite my previous experience with commuting, the first semester was hard. I was so tired, so often. It seemed as though I spent all my spare time on the weekends sleeping. I thought I was just adjusting to full-time work at one location and more responsibility. Without a doubt, and even despite the fatigue, I LOVE the job, my colleagues and the students. It's been a slow fall into love; I held myself back at first because I was afraid that they would change their minds. (Apparently this is not unusual for new full-time faculty.)
Then one Thursday night I chose to sleep at a hotel after a late dinner with colleagues rather than take the long dark drive home. That was a transformative choice because I woke up completely refreshed Friday morning. This sensation brought a new reality into sharp focus: in order to continue at this job successfully, I was going to have to make some changes to my living arrangements.
The hubby and I have talked, and talked, and talked about multiple options. One of the other major changes that had taken place in the last year was that our children have moved home. Our son, his fiance and their blended family of three children are in our two extra bedrooms and our daughter moved her bed, dresser and bookshelves into the living room. The arrangement was working out so well that we were considering finding a larger spot to create a family compound. Now the arrangement has been challenged.
Options include: renting an apartment, small house or trailer, renting a house with a roommate or two, renting a room, kicking our reliable tenants out of our rental house and moving myself in. All this would perpetuate the one issue I really don't like, the fact that my life is now split between work and home. I'm not a fan of this; I end up feeling that I don't actually live anywhere, that I'm rarely truly home.
Ultimately the hubby and I have chosen to sell our home in Petaluma and move closer to my work.
Now we have to decide where that will be!
That was before April when, on a whim, I applied for a full-time tenured position at a college 80 miles away. After multiple years of interviews and near misses, the interview process went smoothly all the way through to the offer. I finally found my niche. The commute seemed doable because it is a really a beautiful drive with very little traffic. Besides, I was used to the life of a freeway flyer, driving between campuses multiple times a day.
Despite my previous experience with commuting, the first semester was hard. I was so tired, so often. It seemed as though I spent all my spare time on the weekends sleeping. I thought I was just adjusting to full-time work at one location and more responsibility. Without a doubt, and even despite the fatigue, I LOVE the job, my colleagues and the students. It's been a slow fall into love; I held myself back at first because I was afraid that they would change their minds. (Apparently this is not unusual for new full-time faculty.)
Then one Thursday night I chose to sleep at a hotel after a late dinner with colleagues rather than take the long dark drive home. That was a transformative choice because I woke up completely refreshed Friday morning. This sensation brought a new reality into sharp focus: in order to continue at this job successfully, I was going to have to make some changes to my living arrangements.
The hubby and I have talked, and talked, and talked about multiple options. One of the other major changes that had taken place in the last year was that our children have moved home. Our son, his fiance and their blended family of three children are in our two extra bedrooms and our daughter moved her bed, dresser and bookshelves into the living room. The arrangement was working out so well that we were considering finding a larger spot to create a family compound. Now the arrangement has been challenged.
Options include: renting an apartment, small house or trailer, renting a house with a roommate or two, renting a room, kicking our reliable tenants out of our rental house and moving myself in. All this would perpetuate the one issue I really don't like, the fact that my life is now split between work and home. I'm not a fan of this; I end up feeling that I don't actually live anywhere, that I'm rarely truly home.
Ultimately the hubby and I have chosen to sell our home in Petaluma and move closer to my work.
Now we have to decide where that will be!
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