At our new home, we have rented the dadu. The renter is the daughter of a friend.
The old home goes up for sale on Thursday. It's clean and well staged. The photographer did a great job taking pictures.
Now we wait.
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We are over the hump when it comes to the move in. The house is more usable than not. Most of what remains can be sold or donated.
Our new house has a dadu-- detached accessory dwelling unit-- a studio apartment above our garage. We will meet our first potential tenants later today.
We've also invited our first guests over. A nice forcing function to get everything into ship shape.
A lot is happening over the next week. On Tuesday evening, we get the keys for the new house. The main move is scheduled for the following Saturday. Between Tuesday and Saturday, we're having the carpets cleaned and moving what we can. The packing and planning causes a certain amount of tension, but my husband and I have lovingly promised each other that we won't divorce in the next two months. This promise will hold through the stressful transition.
We are buying a new home.
It's a nice home, slightly smaller than our current house. It's in a much more walkable neighborhood.
There is a little bit of drama. To prep for selling our current house, we had it inspected. The inspection came back clean. Unfortunately, part of the inspection was a sewer scope. After the scoping, the inspector didn't properly reinstall the cap. So, for the past few days we've had a slow drip out of the sewer. It doesn't look like there has been major damage. It does make your heart sink though.
We have spent the past few days in North Carolina with some old fiends of a the Husband's.
Saturday we attended their daughter's graduated university. We also helped her pack for a move. It was a long emotional day. That evening we drove down to Surf City NC to enjoy a week a the beach. It's very pleasent here. The weather has largely cooperated. Even the rain has been warm and gentle enough that walking in it is pleasant.
i’m heading out this morning. I’ve already said goodbye to dad. He cried a little then left for his morning bus route.
It’s a travel day for me. I am already getting notices that my flights are delayed.
We have designed and put a down payment on a tombstone for mom and dad. We put much thought into it. It's simple and elegant-- very similar to other family tombstones, yet reflects my parent's tastes. Mom's side has a little decoration on it. Dad wanted his side to be plain.
My brother and his wife have just left the family farm for their return trip home. I'm staying a few more days then flying off to a week of vacation with my husband.
The interment was lovely. It was well attended by family. The weather cooperated.
I'm realizing how little I actually know about much of my extended family. I recognize their names and faces, but I probably wouldn't travel to their funerals. Perhaps I'm overthinking this. Most of the family is retired and lives within a 15-minute drive of the church. A few live a few hours away. Only my brother and I must travel across the continent.
My brother puts much effort into memorizing family dates and names, births, marriages, and deaths. On Sunday, we toured other family gravesites. He noticed that I have a cousin who was born less than three months after his parents' marriage. Dad had a good laugh. Dad has always known that uncle and aunt had a shotgun wedding. They kept it hidden as my aunt was training to be a nurse in a city that only had Catholic hospitals. The secret was kept well enough as my aunt went on to have a successful career in nursing.
And my father—he is doing well. There are moments when a little grief creeps up on him. But, by and large, he is in good spirits. He is taking much better care of the house than the last time we were here. He regularly visits neighbors and relatives. He is also enjoying his job as a school bus driver.
I am back in the Ottawa Valley for my mother’s interment. “What is an interment?” I hear you ask. Well… my mother died last February. In this part of the world, in February, the ground is deeply frozen. People who die in the winter can’t be buried at that time. The burial then, the interment, happens sometime in spring after the thaw. We get together and host a mini funeral.
My brothers will also be at the internment as will other family. One of my brothers and I both flew red eyes into Ottawa. We will drive the last leg up to my parents home together.
Every few years I must relearn why I shouldn’t fly red eyeS. They sound attractive— they are less expensive and I can travel without loosing a day, In practice I sleep badly on the jet and can only get a couple hours of shut eye. I’ll be exhausted today. Fortunately, being exhausted is acceptable at a funeral.
Last night the topic of our next move came up. It started off as an argument, but ended as a good discussion. I think we got to the core of differences-- the mortgage and monthly bills. I feel very safe and comfortable in our current house. It's a fantastic investment and it will alway be easy to sell. I am in no rush to change that.
The mortgage keeps the husband on edge. He feels like he can't even consider retirement until we live somewhere else. Owning our residence out right would give him piece of mind. Work has been very stressful on him for the past few months and he feels like he has no option but to keep working. He would love to transition to a less stressful job. He seems to be uncomfortable about retiring unless I retire with him.
I think that I'm in my early fifties, in my peak earning years and working in an industry that has a history of ejecting its elders. Doors will close should I hint that I'm looking at retirement.
We had dinner with SB last night. He seems to be in good spirits. SB has problems speaking loudly for longer stretches, so a friend shared more details. SB has been assessed by a psychologist and a 2nd doctor and qualifies for the assisted suicide. Sometime in the near future, SB, SB's daughter and another friend will travel somewhere for the actual process.
Allan and Even have bought a new home. They have moved a little farther away from Seattle. It's a nice home and not far away from the water. It is in the flight path the SeaTac Airport. Outside there is jet noise every few minutes. Inside, with the windows closed, it is pleasant.
Their move has renewed my husband's and I discussion about our next home. I've been able to put off thinking about our next home. The husband has not. He still regularly searches through the apps for great houses.
We both agree that moving where in SeaTac's flight path, while very affordable, is not something we want.