Isn’t it odd to think that only seven weeks ago I would write about feeling nervous about possibly putting an offer on a house, and today I would be writing that the house is ours and in fact we now own two houses, which is its own new source of anxiety?
We were able to have a tour of the new house with the previous owner, who had lived there almost fifty years. She showed us which room she’d used as a nursery, told us it had taken her forever to choose the paint color for the kitchen (she left us a baggie containing labeled paint chips for walls/cabinets and a labeled sample of the countertop), mentioned that if we take the curtains down to clean them we should pin numbers on the backs so they can be hung back up in the right order (the floors are uneven, so the curtains are all hemmed to different lengths to look the same length). She was happy that the house would be lived in by a large family, and that we were probably getting a dog; she’d had one child and a varying cast of in-laws and a series of golden retrievers.
We took the kids over there last night, and we picked up pizzas on the way and had our first dinner in the new house. Then we walked around and looked at the house, which Paul and I agreed already seems different (in a good way) now that it’s Ours, and the kids had a lot of fun looking at each other and yelling things through the floor/ceiling vents (big open vents you can see through, from the days when the fireplaces were downstairs and there needed to be a way to get the heat upstairs; we’re going to have to keep those vents in mind when having private conversations).
We also found a place on the floor that looks like a hedgehog:
It is really too bad, really very too bad, that neither of the people in this marriage is a matter-of-fact, pick-up-the-phone, just-get-things-done person, or else by now we would have various workers ready to get in there and do their thing. Instead we have not yet called a place to come look at the floors, and the floors need to be refinished before we move in, and I was just yesterday chatting with someone who said she was having her floors refinished and the place was booking six weeks out. So. Well. We will get through this time in our lives, and also maybe the place WE call will only be booking THREE weeks out.
You know how some people refer to the lottery as a tax on people who are bad at math? I think of this delay (and its accompanying expenses) as a tax on people who are bad at making phone calls and getting things lined up ahead of time. That is in fact a soothing thought to me: it turns it from “How could I be so dumb?”/”What’s wrong with me that I can’t handle these things?” into merely a fairly-assigned fee. Everyone has their own areas where they are weak on a life skill, and each of those places has its own tax. You don’t need to beat yourself up about it, you can just pay the fine and move on with life as a perfectly-normal imperfect person.
And furthermore, we all have stuff we’re extra-good at, and those things can help compensate for the fines. Like, maybe you’re good at paying down debt early, or maybe you’re good at doing repairs around the house, or maybe you can sew, or maybe you’re a good sale/clearance shopper, or maybe you’re good at keeping/sorting handmedowns, or maybe you’re good at maintaining social connections, or WHATEVER. It makes sense that we would all have areas that result in savings/earnings, and other areas that result in taxes/fees/fines.
This gentle framing and self-awareness made me tear up this morning. 😘
I can’t wait for all the new house adventures!
I empathize with the whole thing. You give me hope that I could move one day, having only two children and a small house currently.
Can I put in my two cents that you keep the floor hedgehog? Tell the refinishers, when you find them and however long from now they arrive, that he needs to stay. Because it is darling.
Yes. The hedgehog must stay. When we were remodeling the House on the Corner we made sure the carpenter didn’t totally erase the broomstick-sizes hole in the middle of the living room that had housed the bell under the coffee table that the owners tapped with their feet to summon the maid. (1927 was different.) The hole had been carpeted over and we were so delighted with the fancy-schmancy origins of our home. It still makes me smile to see it.
Congratulations! I’m really happy for you! And I hope you keep the floor hedgehog, although I see a curled up Yorkie. So, I know I live hundreds of miles away from you, so this is not helpful information in the call-this-number-to-get-a-fast-floor-guy way, but maybe it will be encouraging. We hired some people to pull up our carpet and put in a wood floor but when they pulled up the carpet (which I swear we had also done), they found a hardwood floor underneath so we sent them away and had to find a floor refinisher instead. Because all our furniture was already moved around, we wanted it done right away. We found someone who could come in the same week. So it can be done! Also, we are apparently bad at evaluating what is under carpet.
I’m good at reading and also good at supporting the library with my fines! Win/win! :)
I always say I tithe to the library. It helps me reframe the hundreds of dollars I give (fine, OWE) them, and supports an institution I believe in religiously.
I pay Life Fees too! I lose library books and DVDs regularly, which means paying really big fines. What else? I’m an impulsive, hasty, last-minute shopper, so I generally buy things before they go on sale. Impatience Tax.
On the other hand, I’m good at using up veggies that are starting to wilt in the fridge. Skillet veggie egg dish! I am speedy with forms and patient surveys. I’ve had to challenge our insurance company once or twice over charges and did well with that.
The reason I came over to comment, though, was a scene from Howard’s End, in which the Schlegel sisters (Emma Thompson and Helena Bonham Carter’s characters, if you’re a fan) discuss the likelihood that a visitor would have been tempted to take some of their silver:
“I dare say it is all for the best,” opined Mrs. Munt. “We know nothing about the young man, Margaret, and your drawing-room is full of very tempting little things.”
But Helen cried: “Aunt Juley, how can you! You make me more and more ashamed. I’d rather he had been a thief and taken all the apostle spoons than that I– Well, I must shut the front-door, I suppose. One more failure for Helen.”
“Yes, I think the apostle spoons could have gone as rent,” said Margaret. Seeing that her aunt did not understand, she added: “You remember ‘rent’? It was one of father’s words– Rent to the ideal, to his own faith in human nature. You remember how he would trust strangers, and if they fooled him he would say, ‘It’s better to be fooled than to be suspicious’–that the confidence trick is the work of man, but the want-of-confidence trick is the work of the devil.”
“I remember something of the sort now,” said Mrs. Munt, rather tartly, for she longed to add, “It was lucky that your father married a wife with money.” But this was unkind, and she contented herself with, “Why, he might have stolen the little Ricketts picture as well.”
“Better that he had,” said Helen stoutly.
“No, I agree with Aunt Juley,” said Margaret. “I’d rather mistrust people than lose my little Ricketts. There are limits.”
***
This also reminds me of a conversation Swistle had with her mom about the cost of an experience. I think it was a bottle of Scotch, right? You’d read a book with a scene featuring a very detailed description of the taste of Scotch. It wasn’t your favorite, but the experience was worth the price.
Great post!
Oh, I love this, and had forgotten about it. Rent, for believing in people. Thank you.
I have thought of this again and again over the past few days. This is really good.
I think of it in church often, every time I debate whether to take my purse with me to the bathroom, or when I fetch my daughter from Sunday school. “If someone takes it, I’m paying rent.”
:)
Yes, yes, I was just going to suggest keeping the hedgehog. Many years ago we had our painters paint around the doorsill markings where we had recorded our children’s height and the dates. They were a bit charmed with the idea and even walked us back to be sure the area they taped off not to paint was done just right. And that was the part of the house I most hated leaving, in the end.
Congratulations! Eager to hear the processes and the quirks. And what a nice thing to get the former-owner tour!
Congrats on getting the house!! I can’t wait to hear all about it.
The life tax idea is fascinating. Why beat myself up over something I can’t change? For instance, I am not coordinated and never will be, and berating myself for being a klutz hardly helps the situation.
Yay and congratulations on your new house!! I hope you all will have many happy years there! We have those same huge old floor vents (complete with fancy cast iron grates) and they are so fun and visitors get a huge kick out of them. The privacy isn’t so great but at least I don’t have to yell too loudly to summon everyone downstairs!
Congratulations on the new house. It sounds delightful!
The hedgehog is darling! Congrats on the new house. :)
A life tax type conversation happens in my head every time someone talks about how easy it is to cook from scratch or stick to an exercise routine. Then I spend way too much time speculating on how often that person overdraws her checking account or shows up late to a meeting.
Oh, congratulations. How exciting!
One of my taxes is losing stuff, and then replacing it. Or simply embracing the thought that I should own a dozen pairs of reading glasses, scattered strategically around my house. Which I have mostly embraced, but which (the larger issue, not the reading glasses per se) then makes it difficult to tell my elementary schooler that No, Really! He must do a Better Job of Keeping Track of His Things! I Mean It!
… or at least, to do so while keeping a straight face.
There is a possibility of saying “Trust me. It is easier to learn this and fix it now than to try to fix this in 20 years.”
(But yes. Every room in my house has its own pair of scissors. It’s grand!)
Well, that is more or less the line I use about why good daily dental care is important, though I remain somewhat unconvinced that having sturdy/stable teeth (or not) is within our control, at least, beyond the margins, i.e., I *did* brush my teeth as a kid yet I *still* have lots of fillings and have needed a bunch of root canals and … oh argh. So, yes, but I’m not sure how many times I can claim that, no, I just want you to do better than I did!
Congratulations! I’m so pleased about your new house because I know I will enjoy reading about it as a distraction from dealing with my own! I love that the previous owner gave you a tour and shared little details and history. It sounds like such a nice happy transition for a house—like a very good start (floor refinishing or no floor refinishing :).
Mazel tov ❤️❤️❤️
THIS IS ALL SO WONDERFUL!! Enjoy your last few weeks in your Young Adult house (YOU ARE STILL YOUNG BUT YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN). I hope you’re able to do The Walk-Through with the YA house’s new owners as well!
Congrats on the new house, and good luck with this new adventure. I love following along.
Thank you for the comforting idea of my fair share of “tax” on things that I happen to not be good at. We aren’t good at actual taxes, and now even the extension date has come and gone. :( But I am good at volunteering and social connections and many other things!
Congratulations on your new home!
It warms my heart, thinking of the old owner and her happiness with having a large family moving in, making the house come alive. It’s a beautiful thing.
I know you don’t like to reveal too much and you’re not really into tons of pictures on the blog but—please! I am dying to see this house and it sounds amazing!! So any pictures you can manage would make me so happy! :)