Next year.

It's a cool Michigan Saturday. There's a home game in town, and we're staying away from the hustle and bustle. For this year. Next year, I imagine we'll walk into town, go to the farmer's market, eat some lunch in the middle of the crowds.

Next year, on a day like this, we can go the open fire house. Or get up and visit the great warehouse sale from at the cool kids clothes shop.

Or we'll head up to the pumpkin patch. By next year, Cricket will have stopped called pumpkins apples.

Next year, I'll have a friend over in the morning, and we'll sit on the back deck wrapped in sweaters over mugs of coffee. Maybe we'll have taken a brisk walk before that.

Next year, next year, next year. It's like a mantra for me these days.

Because we are we doing this year that makes us need to wait for next year? We're packing up our house. We're moving into the house I was terrified and excited to have. And now we have it. And I'm still terrified and excited. Next week is the move. So next year...

There's a House

In the shade, at the end of a cul de sac. A family room, small kitchen with cherry cabinets. Three bedrooms. A sparkly white bathroom. It wraps itself around you as soon as you walk in the door. A back porch with a table beckons visions of friends with wine glasses, children playing under the carport in the rain.

I'm terrified of owning it.

I'm terrified of not owning it.

My Favorite Snob

When partner and I first started dating, we went up to my favorite bar where I was more than a regular. We cozied up to the bar, ordered some drinks, and proceeded to watch the action on the television. Every television in the place was on covering the event: the 2000 Gore/Bush election. After were felt assured that Gore was our next president (Whew, that was close) we started talking to Barbara, my favorite Irish bartender. I happened to mention that was "easygoing" and both Barbara and my new paramour, Partner, started laughing. Simultaneously and heartily. Partner looked at me and said, "Seriously? You think you are easygoing?" And Barbara said, "You are almost everything but easygoing." For a minute I thought I felt angry, which is, of course, not the reaction of an easygoing person. They reigned in their laughter and Barbara said, "You're easy to get along with, but not easygoing." In perhaps the most easygoing moment of my life, I had to see that they were both right.

It isn't easy when you are confronted with home truths about yourself that you would rather not acknowledge. I've been doing a little of that the past few days with several things in my life-- some very personal and some others I'm more willing to blog about, one of which is my not so hidden snobbery. I don't want to think I'm a snob, and mostly think I'm pretty down to earth. I grew up in an incredibly snobby part of the world and like to think I've rejected that part of my past, but alas, I don't think I have. I think, honestly, that part of my reluctance to admit I was going to attend nursing school was rooted in that. I don't remember anyone wanting to become a nurse. Doctors, yes. It was as if a nurse was somehow not good enough or couldn't hack being a doctor. (I could have hacked being a doctor and even thought about going during nursing school, but ultimately I'd like a life.) And see me even defend it here? As if being a nurse still isn't good enough? And finally I even like the idea of being a nurse.

We're moving. Probably sometime in September. I've long said to Partner I could live in a box, but in reality that just isn't true. Number one, it would be damn cold in the Michigan winter. Since I nixed the box, we're (in all likelihood) moving to family housing. This morning when I was talking to my friend Jeremy on the phone about this change of address, I noted that our new place will be smaller than my master suite. "God," he said chuckling, "You are such a snob." And I thought, oh shit, another 'easygoing' moment? Am I snob?

I recalled lamenting that I would have to pack up my Waterford and china and not use it for a year. Yeah. Because I use it so much now? I also recently told a new friend I wouldn't be able to live anywhere that didn't have a grocery store that sold chevre. This is true and I don't deny it, but surely this marks me as a snob? Or at least a cheese snob?

I'm a newcomer at a delightful tradition called "winenight" and I thought "I better have these ladies over soon before we move." Because they won't like me if I live in a small apartment rather than a show house?

I think I've talked about how my family in Ireland was fairly derisive of anyone they called "house proud." I've never wanted to be that person: the anal house proud mother. I thought I'd grow up and have a ramshackle old house that was delightfully cluttered by children's things and wet towels and several dogs. Toast crumbs on the floor (I have that now too). Balls and nets and sporting equipment scattered on the grass. Kids running in and out. Cooking for whomever wanted/needed it and offering glasses of wine to parents as they came to retrieve children, who of course, were reluctant to leave my easy going, carefree home.

I'm not sure I am this fully this person anymore. I do like clean and organized, but I am hoping that this year (and upcoming years) of living away from luxury home life will ground me back into the person I more see myself as. While I'll always believe in a good chevre and like my floors to be vacuumed, I'll have to just let other things go. It would help if you stopped by for a glass of wine. Just step over the mess.

Home Is Where You Hang Your Hat?

My last class of nursing school was cancelled today, so I am sitting on the couch, in my pajamas drinking hot tea, eating cold blueberry pancakes, and watching men's synchronized diving on CBC (with the bitchiest commentator ever!). Life could only be better if it were a little bit warmer and my feet weren't cold. Otherwise, I'm blissfully trying to forget that I have yet to write a paper, study for a final, and pack up a 3300 sq foot house. Everything seems achievable other than the packing part.

We've been looking at houses, endlessly-- on the multi-listing, Craigslist, the newspaper-- you name it, we've looked. We have found houses we have loved and missed. "Sorry. Already rented" We have contemplated buying a few and missed those as well. We just need to make a decision already. Any of the moves are going to be challenging. The house I wanted the most (and missed) was smaller than my current master suite. I'm a little daunted about how to minimize my life to such a degree, but excited about it too. Where ever it is that we move to, I'm going to be able to clean it so much faster and have far less shit to clean.

We're down to three choices at the current time. Each has pros and cons.

1. Family housing: Main pro of this? Cheap! Cheap! Obviously very family orientated and tons of kids for Cricket to play with. They even have a gas stove, and since I don't understand how anyone cooks on electric, the gas is definite plus. It's so close to a grocery store that we could walk there. It's also quite close to one of the hospitals I might apply too. I could ride my bike until the snow comes. It's also near parks. The cons? Well, it's family housing. We're going to be 36 and 40 respectively this fall, so in some ways it feels like a lot of backtracking. And you know, it's not exactly luxury housing.

2. Co-housing: Many of the same pros as family housing but without being family housing. Many kids, many eyes watching them. I love the idea of co-housing, but wonder if I'd be able to abide by all the rules. I love the idea of community meals, especially as we are embarking on another busy year. (Partner will be doing the same program I did.) Cons: The rules? And it's a still further out of "town" than we wanted to be. Our goal was to live on the bus line and be within walking distance of different amenities. I wanted to live in a larger neighborhood, and the co-housing we are looking at is located in the back of business park. There's walking, but not really what I envisioned.

3. Private house: They are out there. We found one yesterday that we both liked. The bedrooms were larger than postage stamps, which was refreshing. It was clean and well maintained. The current tenants complained about the landlord, which was worrying. Pros: Private house-- no shared walls! Felt roomy and cool. Had a full basement, which is definitely nice for storage. The other pro? It probably shared a backyard with a very good friend of mine. Cons: The dodgy landlord, for one. The tenants also said it was cold there in the winter, which sucks. It was also on a larger road, and I could hear the expressway. Electric stove.

I vacillate minute to minute-- wherever we live will ultimately be fine. We'll be together and that's what matters. I guess for now I should get off the couch and start packing.

Graduation on Friday! More blogging to come!

Still Selling

Today I got very surly as we loaded the Cricket into the car, yet again, for another showing. Why do they always want to see the house when it's his nap time? And just as a matter of reference, this is how desperate we are: the showing today was not for a sale, but for a renter. And we mistakenly put the price for rent about $900 dollars cheaper than we should have. Who wouldn't want to rent our house for the price we listed?

Apparently it doesn't make a difference to the guy who saw the house today since his company would be paying the rent. He's coming back tomorrow to take pictures to send to his wife, who lives in a different hemisphere. I don't want to say more than that. (But I cooked lamb in the house tonight and am considering leaving my Wallabies tee shirt out in the closet, maybe a rugby call on the back deck...) But if they want to rent this house for at least a year, with the option of staying on for a year or two after that, maybe the Michigan market could rebound in that time and instead of selling our house for under appraised value, we might actually sell it for what it's worth.

You know the market in Michigan is bad when even the builder can't make money on her own home.

I get a little frustrated when I read blogs of other Michigan home sellers who are frustrated that their houses aren't selling and they've only been on the market for a few weeks. (Just FYI, I'm not talking about people I actually know.) I want to whine, "Look at me! Our house has been for sale for a year! A year! And now we own TWO houses for sale!" But realistically, I have to look at the house I'm living in. I can't complain. Really. I live in the type of house I thought I'd never live in. We're leaving behind this lifestyle for some time to come, perhaps forever, so maybe I should just enjoy the life of Reilly while I can. Mix up some martinis and sit on the back deck, look out over the backyard. Grill up with friends while we have room to mingle and then some...

The truth is that we're mostly moving because of money at this point. Michigan has the highest unemployment in the nation, and guess what? When people are unemployed, the real estate market tanks, and then guess what? People aren't really building homes either. Since our fates were hitched on the building star, which has now fallen in a blazing glory to earth, we're crushed under its weight.


But the fact of the matter is that we've wanted to change our lifestyle for some time now. We don't feel like we're living very responsibly. Before this point there have been two of us living in 3400 sq ft house. When we started planning the new house, we were going to go smaller, and somehow it ended up 400 sq ft bigger. (Although we were more "green" in our approach there; the geothermal heating and cooling rocks!) But there's no reason we need this much space or need to use as many natural resources as it takes to live in a house like this. And even with Cricket, we still don't need this much space. In fact, I'm positive I'd like less space with him. Less time cleaning/weeding = more time with child.

I also want to teach him different values about work. Right now we have someone mow our lawn, shovel our driveway, mulch our beds, etc. What does that teach him about ownership? I want to do those things as a family. Even though I complained as kid about things like raking, it was actually fun to be out in the yard on a crisp autumn afternoon with dad and a rake, and the delight of finishing a hard job. There was something almost magical going out to shovel the driveway late at night in the middle of a snowstorm. The snow swirling in flakes around your face lit up by the porch light and the muffled silence and scrape of the shovel on the drive and the promise of hot drink that would make your cold hands tingle when you got back inside. Warming up under the blanket was that much sweeter for the work you did.

I also want him to have friends to play with and places to ride his bike. That doesn't exist here. Brother K thinks I'm crazy-- our backyard is sizable and he thinks this is a kid's dream, but it wouldn't have been for me. I suppose I've always been social, but I think having a small yard with a kid next door or down the street is preferable to playing alone in your acre backyard. Yawn. Boooorrrrinnnggg. When I think about what I loved as a kid it was playing with other kids in the neighborhood. And I went everywhere on my bike: the library, the swim club, friends houses, my grandmother's, church, school-- everywhere. It was exciting when a parent would propose an after dinner bike ride to get ice cream. Now we'd be taking our lives into our hands to go bike out on the road next to our house.

And I hate that if I want to go for a walk with Cricket, I have to load him in the car seat from hell, drive to a neighborhood or downtown, unload him, and then stroll. I tried walking him on our cul de sac; it was like watching paint dry. It would be so much fun to just go out the door with him and, voila! Sidewalks and neighbors-- what fun, oh my! When we walk through the neighborhoods I covet, I love to look at the kids toys out in front of houses, sidewalk chalk drawings, strollers parked in driveways, and imagine our lives in such a place. Once when we were taking an evening walk I overheard another child leaving a friend's house. "Goodnight, Henry-who-has-to-sleep-soon!" he called out. Other children were busy spraying each other with a hose. I want those memories for Cricket, not playing alone in his big backyard.

The logistics of our downsizing are something to consider though. In all likelihood we'll rent while I'm in school. Even we don't rent, we're planning on moving from a 3400 sq ft house, not including the basement in that footage, and a three car garage to something probably around 800 to 1200 sq ft. (IKEA here we come!) We won't have a formal dining room and kitchen nook, so what do we do with two tables? No more four bedrooms, so two there's two extra beds to contend with. It highlights the excess we've been living with, and it's a hideous addiction. Even in the quest to downsize, do you see how I call for even more consumption? (The IKEA reference.) I don't need to buy more stuff to downsize, but it's so how we get used to living. It's time to break the cycle.

So rent my house. Buy my house. It's horrible and sad and scary and exciting and liberating and new all the same time. I think I'm ready.

On and On, On and On, On and On.

I'm so sick of cleaning this house. Another showing tomorrow. I hope these people like it. Half our furniture is at the Showcase house so our own home looks alternately really empty and really big. After we moved out the TV armoire, the two club chairs, and the side table from the family room, I looked at Partner and said, "Wow, this is a really big room." People have commented that the room is too small. It looks big again. At least with the reduced furniture, it's easier to clean. Not as much dusting. And vacuuming can happen without having to move pesky chairs and such.

There's no dining room table here anymore either. It's also doing double duty across the street. Along with all Cricket's furniture, and the guest room.

The house looks like one of those big houses that people move into and then can't furnish. I want to post a note:

NB: We do own furniture. Go across street to Showcase house to
see it. Or don't go across. Just stay here, imagine your own furnishings, and buy this house.

In the interest of selling, my monthly burying of Saint Joseph on the blog:

If We Can Just...

Our house has been for sale for nearly or over a year now. I can't really think about it too much. People keep coming through it, which is great since it means it still generates interest, and there have been several "second" showings, but no bites. One person has even looked at it three times. Three times, lady? You like it already! Buy it! We're selling it for under appraised value, significantly under value, mind you.

I've found myself thinking, "If we can just sell our house, I'll be happy."

How often do we set ourselves up by thinking like that? I'll just be happy if: we sell the house, we find the house, I lose X pounds, I get the job, I get into that school, I obtain that degree, I have a baby...

Let's take that last one for example-- the baby. I know that I thought I'd have everything I wanted if I just had the baby. That I'd be happy. And then after Cricket was born and in the NICU and I spent so much time crying, and even after that when he came home and it was freezing cold and I felt like a prisoner in my home, I didn't have that "happy" I had envisioned. I had to realign my expectations, but the fact of the matter is that we do this to ourselves. Set ourselves up in some fairy land where one thing is the answer to everything. And really, has it ever worked that way? The odds are pretty low.

There's no magic pebble, Sylvester.

I won't be any more or less happy on the whole if we sell this house or not. If we do get an offer (soon), I'll be really happy for a few hours, and then the realization that we'll have to pack up our house will set in. And then as much as I think we'll be happier living in a smaller house in a city neighborhood, I'm pretty damn sure there will be pitfalls associated with that too. In reality, I'm a pretty happy person, but as much as that's true, I still find I need to remind myself of that fact every once in awhile. Like when our house has been on the market for over a year.

I don't mean to suggest that there aren't situations where getting out of them or into them might really change one's general happiness level. After I graduated from college, I went to live in the UK for a boyfriend and it was disastrous. I really was much happier after I left him. But it was so much more immediate then. I didn't find myself saying, "I'll be happier if I can just break up and leave M," instead I just knew I had to get out. When I did, I realized how much improved my life was.

I just think it's dangerous to assume that there will this one thing that will change and make you a happy person. I think the happiness we feel is inside and comes from our general outlook on the world, and so often we all fall inside the "I'll just be happy when..." trap. I'm trying to avoid going there again, but at the same time, I still think I'll just be damn overjoyed when this house finally sells.

Calling St Joseph

Of course in the midst of everything else, don't forget our house is still for sale. We had a showing on Sunday. They came half an hour early and we were still here. I was surly at their arrival. But apparently we're on their short list. Pray hard, because between the death of the car companies and this news, we'd be nothing short of miracle to sell the house now. And since we need a miracle to remain solvent, it would really come in handy. If you want to drop a line to good old St. Joe re: Katie and Partner's house, we'd be in your debt.