Building a dream house – Addressing the address

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Addresses equal your homestead and where you go each night to leave your shoes on a floor. It is your abode, castle and nest. It allows you to know where you live and wash dishes. As trivial and enlightening as it sounds, our future home became real when we received the 911 address the other day.

There are multiple addresses for properties, especially for those in rural areas. As the area turns and becomes populated, rural routes and post office boxes regurgitate into county road and farm market destinations. The government wants to know where to go when you have a fire or health emergency. Therefore, 911 address are created to be able to quickly assist your emergency need. This is a database not easily celebrated or embraced by “other” entities.

Confusion escalates when the utility companies, water, electric and gas, list the property address as it was initially presented. They appear to be unable to change it to the current or most recent label. It may even be an address unrecognizable to a current owner because the address they’ve been using for decades is different. We have actually purchased multiple properties with addresses to connect utilities were unknown to the current owner. They obviously used different information, previous account numbers, ESI ID numbers, etc to light up the house or flush a toilet. You are told when calling the utility to provide the “service address” as well as the “physical address” or the “911 address”!

To get the lights on at our current home, we had to call the previous owners, who had inherited the property and kindly ask them to search out a previous electric bill for an identification marker to get the lights on. This became the project of the week and a grand fiasco. Their search through a deceased member’s past, yielded an ESI ID. We relayed this info to the retail electric provider. Much to our chagrin and wonder, a security light in the back of the property became illuminated. The property had multiple ESI ID’s and the puzzle wasn’t complete until the one for the house was located.

To avoid mishaps like the previous, we worked diligently with the proper authorities to provide the “911 address” to use for hooking up temporary electric meters for construction purposes. The “911 address” was established by walking up and down the subdivision street and notating the current house number assignments. Obviously, where we will live has a “do it yourself” method for creating your new house number. You call the government agency assigning the 911 address and they ask you to provide the current house numbers. The rhyme and reason of next 4 digits did not apply to this application!

Why are you entitled?

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As old as I am, it is still a shocker to hear someone verbalize their entitlement. It can be as small as a cosmetic customer asking for a mascara sample because she simply doesn’t want to pay the ticket to purchase the item. Samples are provided for “paying” customers to use a new product. If they like the new product, they return to “purchase” it. Sample whores never want to “pay” for anything. They feel entitled to receive.

One of our teenage daughters brought home a parasite for a date one evening. He was about 8 years younger than I was, at the time. We asked him what his ambition in life was. He stated emphatically that he was waiting for his parents to die so he could inherit their printing business. I asked him what position he presently held and he looked at me as if he’d been shot with a stun gun. He didn’t really do anything there. My husband promptly escorted him to the front door for his “do nothing” exit. Needless to say, the daughter thought we were the nut cases until we informed her of the values of work ethic, responsibility, compassion and you don’t work – you don’t eat.

When Hurricane Ike hit Bolivar Peninsula and Crystal Beach, Texas, an acquaintance, we checked on told us she was waiting for government assistance because she didn’t evacuate when required to and lost her car. Needless to say, she lost her home and her minimum wage, part time job, also. Tragic as this was, she was given a new furnished, two bedroom apartment so her unemployed boyfriend could stay with her. She was also given a check for new clothing and transportation. She told me she was going to take 5 or 6 months off before looking for a job because she had money to live off of. While she was on vacation, our neighbors were fighting with insurance companies for 2 years to settle claims for homes wiped off the face of the earth from a tidal surge. They worked hard to pay for those homes and the expensive insurance. I had to watch them shovel their personal belongings and busted pieces of their homes from their lots as they were piecing their lives back together while the entitled collected checks.

I volunteer at a food pantry. The majority of recipients are extremely appreciative for the help. The ones which irk my ire are the ones with the expensive smart phones, new cars, and smell like dope and cigarettes with their mouths going. They complain about checking in. They want you to hurry up because they have to be somewhere else. They are agitated if they have to wait. The biggest bam is they complain about the food items they are receiving. They want steak and pastries.

You should live your life with the rewards earned. No one owes you anything. You are not entitled to receive something simply because you exist. If you didn’t pay in – there should be no proceeds available for you. The world would work better. I draw the line for the elderly and children. Never condemn the innocent and those needing true assistance. Education is the key to correction.

 

Building a dream house – Plans and planning

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Plans & Planning

Plans & Planning

It took a long time to plan the move to the Paris area. Years of fretting over how to leave a city life behind. The decision actually fell into place with frustrating 2 hour commutes, road rage incidents,employment incidents, turning neighborhoods and the world we knew changing – as we changed.

There have been a great number of sacrifices, including leaving the locale of where our grown children live. Reality kicked in full blast with the lack of retail access to items we took for granted. It was beyond comprehension a convenience store would close at 9:00 pm before moving to Northeast Texas. The sidewalks roll up early here. If you want a Hostess fried pie – you’d better get your ass in the car before 8:45 pm.

We tried to buy a house here. It didn’t work for me. We bought our property before we were sure what to even do with it. Countless hours were spent searching the internet and home plan sites. We made the final choice of house plans about 4 times. The size of the house and how much bucks it would take to build it were the most prevalent factors. Sure I could pick out plans for a huge mausoleum but who was going to clean and maintain it. How could we afford a gazillion doors? With a few bottles of wine and endless conversation, we came to the conclusion, this new house would have to take care of us when we are unable to care for ourselves. Just as our first house raised our children and created the suburban dream.

Your house is never truly yours. I always wanted to create a fantasy world in my home. I didn’t want to be like my parents – which were the epitome of “The Wonder Years”. I didn’t want that but that is exactly what we created. We are – what we know. We did keep a bicycle in the vestibule and had huge acrylic abstract paintings on the walls but it was a mainstream house. The new house was initially going to be like an urban modern loft type of joint. Then I realized no one in Paris, Texas would want to purchase it when we truly needed a buyer. The taste of most homeowners in the Northeast Texas area points more toward kikker cowboy western motifs. So, we will be traveling the middle of the road type of hacienda.

The outside will be beautiful garden-variety by the home plans we purchased and will be to the liking of many. We have become minimalist in the sense we are tired of cleaning and packing and kicking around chachkis.  I enjoy them at other people’s homes but not in ours. The interior will be easily switched to unexceptional and standard when we are ready to exit the premises permanently. I am tired of painting everything country white, white-white and beige by all the names – eg: Swiss Coffee. Paint is easy to change.

We’re not going to go crazy and hang the Jeep Scrambler from the ceiling. It will be uncrowded, modern and artsy-fartsy. Less is best. It is not what has been planned, but rather what is disliked, discarded and eliminated. We now know what we don’t want.

The last of the brush and stumps on the house site.

The last of the brush and stumps on the house site.

The wood on the lot is actually still smoldering. It smolders slower in the rain. It hasn’t rained here for months until we needed to get ride of a bunch of debris. The extra dirt needs brought in. The next step will be to sit and watch it settle!

We are in need of a truss builder, either on-site or off-site. There are a lack of them listed in the vicinity. Hardly any craftsman have websites. It may be the lack of internet access. Still planning and researching where to find materials and construction experts. There is no sense of urgency among the masses here. I guess they’re waiting for a bigger job to come along – like cousin Eddy.

Building a dream house – The burning bush

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When you cut down a bunch of trees, it leaves a lot of debris left over. There has to be enough room to actually build the house, move heavy construction equipment through and be able to park a bunch of vehicles. It has been determined, the man shop must be built first in order to store necessary items, like windows and doors, for the house. Like all female she people, my fear is out in the open that I may be living in the man shop if my general contractor gets tired of building after man shop is standing on it’s own. I certainly do not want to consider that option. I would be on the first bus out of here and headed back to the big city if that joke spontaneously continues to thrive.

During a drought, a burn ban is in effect. You can not burn huge trees when the wind is blowing 30 mph. We had the lots cleared for the man shop and house but had to wait for rain and the burn ban to be lifted. This project does not move as quickly as my heart wants it to. I certainly do not want to burn down our 8 acres of trees, nor do I want to piss off the neighbors by burning down their woods or homes. I like our new neighbors. They stop by to view the progress and are as excited as we are to see a home being created.

It finally rained last week. We verified the burn ban was lifted and proceeded to burn the ginormous piles of cut trees and debris left over from clearing the 2 lots. It isn’t as easy as one would think to burn green wood and keep the fires going. burning bush cThe supply list included a propane tank, diesel fuel, newspaper and the lighter we use for the grill! Every Girl Scout knows the rules when creating a camp fire. As a previous Scout, I know it isn’t as easy as it appears in all the videos to make a fire. If you don’t want a fire to start, the fear is always prevalent. If you want to start a fire, on purpose, all elements will be uncooperative.

Then my old lady anxiety kicks in. I shouldn’t be on site when fear factor hits. I could hear my mother’s voice coming out of my mouth with, “Be careful. Don’t stand so close. Is that going to catch in the woods?” I was obviously using my “outside voice”. Needless to say, this project has been going on all week. Thank God I have a few full-time jobs and extra curricular activities to keep me out-of-the-way, most of the time. I did make a mistake and tried to sashay the site in regular shoes instead of wearing the work boots purchased specifically for being on a construction site. It took the better part of an hour to clean them up. To keep me in check and shook up, everyone on site keeps telling me to look out for bobcats and wild animals. My weakness for not wanting to run into exotic animal life is apparent at all times. I took photos of what I thought were big game footprints, until our neighbor told us she walked her precious dog, Patch, down the driveway shortly after it rained!burning bush d

Moving the woods

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Moving the woods 02-27-2013Technically, we had some of the woods moved or better stated, removed, to make room for the “dream house” and “shop”. The shop is going to be the ultimate man room. It must be completed first so we can store the necessary accoutrements required to have a civilized abode. The dream originated with a small outbuilding. It has been brought to my attention that toilets and tubs take up a lot of room!

There will be 21 doors in this new home. They will not fit in my car until they are ready to be hung.  That will be a lot of possible opening, closing and slamming action! 16 windows must be installed. One is approximately 8 feet high. It is not an item purchased off the shelf at Home Depot. We are building in the country with cows and ducks roaming around. The greatest immediate challenge is obtaining specialty items at reasonable cost, including transportation and freight. So, back to the “shop” – a building was required to store items, in close proximity, to the house building site. Yes, we need a shop. Yes, this is being written by a female with little to no understanding of the future need for a huge tool and man machine storage outlet. The massive trees needed to be run down with a bulldozer. The driveway to the shop had to be cut through. I had to double check to make sure the shop is not visible when I am in the new love nest.

Oncor , the conglomerate mandated to distribute and transmit electricity visited the home site this morning. Much to my dismay, they need 10 feet across to access and lay the required “stuff”, wires and cables to run electricity from the transformer to the the future shop and house. More woods to be moved out of the way. There is no way I can live in a house with no power. God knows what my hair would look like without access to a blow dryer with a diffuser. I knew trees would have to come down, but there’s a lot more trees than even my insane imagination could muster being felled. I had better practice some zen and meditation before the water company and phone company jump on the bandwagon.

The mister and I extensively discussed whether to lay cable for a telephone land line. We do not currently have a land line or permanent residential telephone line. There is no need for one in this day and age. We previously utilized a land line for a fax machine. A fax machine is now an obsolete item in my world now. Everything transmitted from our residence is scanned and emailed. We live in a community that is not technologically savvy. The majority of my acquaintances do not know how to text or have the service on their cell phones. S Continue reading →

Happy Birthday, Lover

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My precious, dear lover is the very best God created. He certainly is the most handsome human being walking the earth. This is evident when I find beer cans on the porch table and his power tools laying in the middle of the living room floor. Who can get mad at a face like he has? This benefit certainly works to his advantage.

Lover is the foundation of what is good in the world. He had already raised a family and took on the young children accompanying me on the blissful journey we created. He not only raised my sons – he made them his sons by adoption. Lover taught them to be pick-up truck driving, walk with a Texas swagger, swing a hammer, load the dishwasher, hold the door open, tell the truth – “honest real men”. We are so proud of all of our children.

We got married 21 years ago. I didn’t see the need to get married but it was very important to Lover. His faith is not worn on his sleeve or exclaimed on a bumper sticker. It is the keystone of his character. I knew I was going to live with him and by his side for the rest of my life. He was 42 years old on our wedding day and I was 36. We thought we were half way over the hill at that point in time. It was actually a new spin which accomplished more than most dream of in an entire lifetime. I told him the only way I would marry him is if he would let me go the day we turn 89 and a half – on the same day. He will be held to that promise.

We moved recently and I found photos of our new life together. It was a testament of the magic he innovated into our lives. I remember thinking it was going to be so phenomenal making memories together – it has been more than phenomenal.

Today, my wonderful husband is sixty-four years old. He is the air I breathe and the sun on my face. He has given me the ocean, family and the reason to live on this earth. Don’t forget the Camaro Z, too! Lover is tenacious, persistent and let’s add stubborn. He built the confidence in us to always climb higher. When I think it can’t get any better, he makes it happen. My heart still beats madly when I see his truck in the driveway when I arrive home. He is my home.

Happy Birthday, Lover

I Love you xxx

 “ When I get older losing my hair,

Many years from now,

Will you still be sending me a valentine Birthday greetings bottle of wine?

If I’d been out till quarter to three Would you lock the door, Will you still need me, will you still feed me, When I’m sixty-four?

You’ll be older too, (ah ah ah ah ah)
And if you say the word,
I could stay with you.

I could be handy mending a fuse
When your lights have gone.
You can knit a sweater by the fireside
Sunday mornings go for a ride.

Doing the garden, digging the weeds,
Who could ask for more?
Will you still need me, will you still feed me,
When I’m sixty-four?…”

“yes”

 

 

 

We are building a dream house

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Our decision to move from a major metropolis to east of Egypt has necessitated the building of a home. We knew this a few years ago when I began the optimistic search for a perfect love nest for our cohabitation. There are very few homes in Powderly, Texas from which to choose.

I am an experienced real estate agent. I know how to research and find the flawless and elegant abode to meet any prospect’s heart’s desire. It really helps if you have more than a handful of choices. I know there are great homes here. It is evident the current owners wish to continue living in them! Our choices have resembled Elvis Presley flocked wallpaper decor, no hallway or privacy floor plan – you have to walk through each bedroom to get to the next bedroom (heard they designed the home themselves!), the 4 bedroom, 1 bath house and omg there is a “huge” built-in pool included with the listing! We’ve had a pool. No one had time in their schedule to clean it. Everyone swam in it the first 2 weeks and then it became this “thing” we had in the backyard to look at. I remember cleaning it, in the dark in my corporate blue suit and running all over town trying to find the correct size filters for the pump. If we ever have a home with a pool, it will include a guy named Sven, wearing a speedo. He will know how to mix a chilled Cosmopolitan and instinctively know when to turn the pages on my trashy magazine as I lay in a chaise lounge blabbing on my phone.

We came to the conclusion, we are going to have to have a home built. Is there nothing that will please me? I don’t need a horse stable or RV port. I am tired of remodeling and gutting the joint to the bricks to replace all plumbing and electricity. I’ve sucked up more sheet rock dust than a contractor. I am not in the mood to fix a slab foundation which is cracked in half. Weighing out the pros and cons, starting from scratch will at least be a different adventure.

Eight years ago, after sustaining damage from Hurricane Rita and a 21 hour car ride to escape her wrath, we purchased 8+ acres on a wooded lot, in a subdivision which includes a private lake, in Powderly.  It is beautiful. I have scoured countless websites and bought books with floor plans. The most difficult real estate agents are themselves. My husband was a commercial builder. I, actually worked for a residential builder for years. We think we are experts. The more we research, the less we know. We have agreed on the perfect set of plans, 3 times. Yesterday, we had to commit to the perfect floor plan and elevation so it could be presented to the man trying to plan the foundation work. The husband and I have agreed, after 2 fights, to be our own general contractors. We are building a dream house.We are building a dream house

My cousin-in-law asked me how many fights we have had over this decision. She is keeping track. I, initially, wanted to commit to a builder. Give them the plans and tell them to build the house. Challenges with this commitment occur when they insist on their own vendors. There are extreme limitations with cabinet, woodwork, tile, counters and window choices, to name a few. The husband does not want to put up with shoddy work, inferior product and the front door facing the wrong direction. We have talked to a lot of people with having their home built by the name brand contractors in the area. The majority were very pleased with the final project but admitted there are limitations.  I am a little picky. Personality plays a primary focus for the project. I would rather fight with my lover than a stranger. He is more handsome and I always win.

So, the project truly begins today – the floor plan is being dropped with the concrete man. He has already walked the property. We are calling the bulldozer guy, again, to clear additional trees and brush. The driveway was cut in last year, as was the initial clearing for the house.The survey was verified – to make sure the front yard is not on the guy’s lot next door! In fact, the house will sit almost exactly in the middle of the 8 acres. Trenching for utilities will chunk a huge bite of the budget but privacy does cost a few bucks.  Honestly, it was more important to want to sit half naked on a back porch eight years ago than it is now, but what the hell!

I know there is hope for this endeavor. In 2000, we purchased a home on Crystal Beach which was hand built by a retired couple. The neighbors conveyed stories of a menopausal woman, hammering shingles on the roof of a home which sat on 10 foot pilings. The beach house was literally created with this remarkable couple’s bare hands, in 1973. This little fortress withstood the wrath of Hurricane Alicia and Hurricane Rita with countless tropical depressions and storms in between. On September 13, 2008, Hurricane Ike came to shore with a direct hit to Bolivar Peninsula and wiped our dream house off the face of the earth. If a house, nailed with hand carried lumber and shingles can stand for 35 years with the coastal environmental challenges it faced from the Gulf of Mexico, we certainly can be our own general contractors without choking each other to death. I wonder what their fight count ended up being?

 

 

 

 

Technologically illiterate

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There is a general assumption sitting out there conveying the idea people over 40 are technologically illiterate. I thought this was extreme bias until I moved to a small Northeast Texas town. It appears to be rampant in major metropolises as well as rural areas.

My sister is, let me think how old my sister is, 55 years old. She is an event planner in a small suburbia outside of Pittsburgh. This family owned company still writes all appointments down on a large wall calendar and manually maintains all accounting in a ledger book. She does not utilize email, text or electronic communication with any vendors. She still calls and visits the local bakeries for cakes and pastries, often carrying photos of what the customer wants. She is unable to switch employers because she is technologically illiterate. Her boss is a control freak and wants no changes to the system. My lovely sister does not want to learn how to access the internet, nor does she have any interest in doing so. For her occupation and stage of life, it is socially acceptable for her bliss to continue. Keeping staff uneducated and in the dark seems to work for entrepreneurs.

The few people I have met in Paris, Texas seem to have the same lack of communication skills. I still have a Houston area code telephone number. When sharing my phone number, I am often informed, they are unable to place a long distance call to me from home or work. Either their employer does not allow (control and being cheap) long distance calls or their mobile phones have extremely limited regional service. It is more often than not, they inform me they do not know how to text nor do they have the capability. These are not retired or stay at home housewives. These are “business people”.

I interviewed for a professional position, a few years back, with a snot nosed twenty something. During the interview, he held up a Blackberry and informed me everyone employed there is required to keep their appointments electronically. He also went on to say the learning curve for programs they used, MS Office Suite, would take time to learn. When he finished making his assumptions and was arrogantly quiet, I told him to hand me his laptop so I could take it apart, reprogram the hard drive and put it back together. He seemed kind of shocked. He went on to explain his mother didn’t know anything about computers. While he was blabbering, my Blackberry was vibrating. I took it out of my purse, checked it and put it back – in the middle of an interview. I never would have done this if I wanted the position. I told him his mother never taught 60 people how to convert manual files to an electronic system in the 70’s either. His mother didn’t convert a financial institution from a manual accounting system to a zero paper system in 4 days, which included placing a PC on every desk and personally training everyone the fabulous benefits of every MS Office program available, including PowerPoint presentations. I am quite sure his mother had “other” talents. By the way, the interviewer and his company went bankrupt within the year. One of my friends got the job I interviewed for and she is still unemployed to this day.

Back off with embracing the idea, old people don’t know what to do with a PC, tablet or any other “hand-held device”. My father was in his 70’s and was more PC savvy than most people I have done business with. After he died, and I figured out his password, I brought his PC up to see eagles flying, flags waving and hearing the Marine Corps hymn playing full blast on his computer. He thrived on researching ship manifests for immigrant relatives, replaced drives in his CPU and conducted all business electronically on the PC. I still miss his emails and humor and most especially him-very dearly.

People do not like change. It is easier to be oblivious. Their world will remain ever so small without the advantages of world-wide access. It also cost a few bucks to be connected to cyber space. I view it as a necessary utility fee, like electricity!  Don’t get me started with how we are all being gouged for fees. I remember paying $.25/minute cell phone service. My boss would imitate how fast we would convey information when calling him. When the cost changed to the plans we have now, everyone relaxed and spoke in full sentences.

I am too nebby not to know what is going on out there. I am so afraid of missing something. The sad thing is – a lot of people still don’t know – they don’t know.

 

 

 

Uptown girl

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“…and in the streets the children screamed, the lovers cried and the poets dreamed

But not a word was spoken

The church bells all were broken

And the three men I admire most, the Father, Son and Holy Ghost –

they took the last train for the coast

The day the music died…”

Our perception of “free” is truly askew

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We were fortunate enough to be able to purchase a beach house when our kids were still fairly young. The previous owners left furniture, kitchen stuff and lots of junk (Easter baskets, dead flower arrangements,sand buckets-with sand,lobster forks,and a plaid sleeper sofa and yellow velvet loveseat) with the premises. Included with the newly acquired possessions was a television which resembled a relic from the 70’s. It was a massive box with a little screen which weighed a ton. After numerous ferry rides to the mainland Walmart, we stuck some rabbit ears on it, connected a VCR and Nintendo to it and a huge piece of tin foil for family entertainment. Being at the beach, meant “being at the beach”. I saw no sense in putting a satellite on the roof of a house which couldn’t sustain a storm door for more than a few hours, due to the high winds. The TV did pick up 54 channels, some in Vietnamese, which thrilled our youngest son. He bragged to everyone that we got a free TV.  Our estimation of cost for the television was about $47,000.00!

It is New Years Eve, today. We recently made a move to Northeast Texas from Sugar Land, Texas. The city of Sugar Land always mailed a beautiful calendar, with expressive scenes of the city. It was exquisitely executed with photos suitable for framing. I always wondered which photographer, printer and shipper was the brother in law of which politician to receive that gig. The arrival of the calendar was timely and expected. The Sugar Land calendar was “free”. There was no ordering, sitting on hold after 10 ringy dingys, or delays to making a request on an inept website. Our estimation of cost for the calendar was approximately $2,800.00 per year. Powderly, Texas doesn’t create such masterpieces. We are going to have to cough up $10.00 for 2013.

Department stores and grocery stores are famous for making you think you have received “value” in every purchase. The coupons have extreme exclusions and never include brands from vendors who don’t want to be associated with sale, low cost, or door-buster prices. Every item in the store has an exorbitant marked up original price. The item is then marked down with a red pen and put on a rack with a sign exclaiming everything is 50% of the “marked” price. The coupon, which brought you into the store is not applicable for any of the items your heart has yearned for. When the patron has their chosen items brought to the cashier, they are proudly told they have saved $247.00 for the items they have just paid $67.00 for. The truth of the matter is, you have just paid 50% more due to bingo price jumble confusion reality.

Our perception of “free” is truly askew. I worked for a home builder, selling homes to people who could hardly afford them. To “clinch” or close a sale, I always gave them a “free” refrigerator. The glee in their eyes, seeing the stainless steel majestic Whirlpool refrigerator in their new kitchen was “priceless”. Somewhere in the sales contract, an additional $2,000.00 was added, usually before I even was employed there, to accommodate the usual and customary sales technique of giving the new home owner a refrigerator, costing the company a couple hundred dollars.The spanking brand new home, no one had ever walked on the wall to wall carpet with dirty feet,  cost the buyer $345,000.00, on sale from $365,000.00, with a true value of $285,000.00. Nothing like waiting months for the home to be built, every material possession you own is in a U-Haul with all of the kids, to find out the appraisal is a helluva lot lower than what you paid – but you did get a free refrigerator! The estimated cost of the shiny new refrigerator, $60,000.00.

Think about what is “free” the next time you purchase a vehicle, get a “free” hotel room for gambling or sitting through an excruciating sales pitch for a timeshare or “buy one, get one free” Ritz crackers at Publix! Next week the crackers will be on sale for half the price and won’t be stale because you can’t eat two boxes of crackers at once. Free- WriteInSpace