Lots to Do

Not a lot of time to write tonight, what with work (behind in two different jobs) and travel (trip to Philadelphia tomorrow that my boss just cancelled out of so I'm on my own) and kid (keeping her entertained until school starts Thursday) and exercise (I did get out for a run in this heat!).  We survived the inspection -- $500 (well, it's a big house) bought me no new significant information about needed repairs, which may be expensive but is clearly good news.  Lots of things to fix for sure but at least the repair bill didn't leap exponentially.  Paul, the inspector, did suggest I talk to a structural engineer about one issue, who I'll call tomorrow, and we still are supposed to get an electrician in to find out if it's more than just an artistic reason that the chandeliers throughout the house are real -- that is, they take candles, not lightbulbs.  

Beyond that, I ran over to the city's CEO office again to get a final determination on how many apartments the city thinks the place has (no luck -- office closed at 4 pm -- Ok, I will decline to make a joke about city workers and their schedules), called another old friend and contractor (someone who I suspect will be cheaper than Craig who looked at the place with me a couple of weeks ago) to see if he can get me a quick estimate of how much it will cost to create the new apartment, called the lawyer to see how likely it is I'll get an official appointment with Marge at the city before Friday...  Suffice it to say, there's lots to do.

Most disappointing comment of the day -- both Paul, the inspector, and Nikki think I may not be able to put a roof deck on the building.  What??  Hardly makes sense since the brand new building of condos right in front of the house, the ugly part of "my" view I'm trying to ignore, has a gigantic roof deck -- how can the city deny me?  This is one I will fight.

Kanha did come with me this morning and saw the house for the first time.   She was bored with the inspection and enthralled with the apartment -- she's claimed the third bedroom as her art studio and has determined how we'll arrange our couch to maximize the living room view of Portland Harbor.  (She also was fascinated by the rotary dial phones throughout the sellers' apartment -- she can figure out how to operate a brand new computer in five minutes but struggled mightily to determine how to dial a phone number on these phones.  Do we count this as progress?)  I called her at her dad's tonight and she gave it the seal of approval -- "We have to buy it."  I'm working on it, honey-bunny.  

The Pleasure of Place

Sitting up in bed on just another one of the dozens of glorious mornings of this summer in my family's lake place in western Maine, staring out the window at the ripples on the water, listening to the loons call to each other -- I imagine they're talking about what a great summer they've had too.  I'm sure spending nearly twenty-five years coming up to this house has drawn me to appreciate a water view and, therefore, at some level to have pulled me toward the big old house.  But more than that, it's created a sense of the pleasure of place, that four walls and a piece of land can connect one to parents who are now gone, to conversations and laughter and hugs that are part of the indelible background of a life, to the quietness of being in a spot that touches nature so closely.  Certainly a house in the city is a different species than one in rural Maine but what I see as offered within those many many walls and nearby gardens and river and ocean makes me certain I can find my place, our place, there too.

I wrote my financial proposal and sent it off to Jim, the bank president, yesterday and he's still speaking with me by email so my dream still lives.  Nikki, in the meantime, has sent me another discouraging note, wondering how I'll make the extra loan payments before the new apartment is completed and rent is coming in and speculating that it will take several months to finish the renovation, a position she has completely reversed herself on in just a couple of days.  Well, as she says, someone has to play the devil's advocate and it's clearly not me.  

Today I officially take up the apparently God-given mantle of every parent of an adolescent in the new millennium, no matter one's own personal predelictions -- "soccer mom."  Kanha's first game of the season is this afternoon, producing the first busy (read: ruined -- oh, sorry Kanha) weekend of the fall.  Oh well, the sun is shining, I have a book, I love to see my kid play -- it will be fine.  

Points 1 to 4

A beautiful sunny day back in Portland, a glorious day to think about buying a house with a view.  I'm feeling a little more relaxed -- perhaps it's a good night's sleep, perhaps it's knowing I don't have to be back on an airplane until Tuesday -- but I like to think it's mostly because I've taken a paring knife and excised, almost completely, my emotions from the cold hard financial facts of this house purchase.  Since my brain works like it's still solving problems from my high school math team, I need to clearly lay out those facts that must be faced -- four of them, to my count:  

1. Assurance from the city on two issues:  a)  I can buy the house and get the commercial space converted to residential and b) they'll work with me to resolve the fact that the two small rental apartments are out of code
2. An appraisal that's high enough to allow me to borrow enough money in a conventional mortgage once the new residential space is in place for the list of known repairs 
3. An inspection that doesn't add TOO many more very expensive repairs to that list
4. (Here's the big one) A source of a $50-$75K loan to do the apartment conversion and other initial repairs

Just this morning I've made good progress on points 1 and 2 -- another reason this is a good day!  I talked to a lawyer (painful $$ signs but worth it I think) and then went to the city of Portland's code enforcement office to look up some documents.  Bob, my new lawyer, thinks it shouldn't be hard to convert the commercial space to residential (apparently much easier in that direction) and the boss lady in the CEO -- named Marge, which seems like a good omen -- took a few impromptu minutes to discuss the situation and, without making commitments, said she would try to work with me on all issues if I bought the property.  So that seems point 1 is 3/4ths addressed.

In addition, Rusty, a freckle-faced real estate agent/contractor/appraiser with a pencil behind his ear and a Blue Tooth stuck in it, took an hour in the house this morning to come up with an estimated value;  while he made no commitments (appraisal report will come next week), he talked, in a somewhat awestruck way, about how unusual the house is -- the artsy nature, the views, the amount of space -- which makes me (a little) optimistic on where the appraisal will come in.

Beyond that, inspection (point 3) is scheduled for Monday bright and early, and my ex, Chip, gave me a smart suggestion about point 4, which puts him on my plus side for today.  He reminded me of the bank president who we both know -- he better than me since his bank account is quite a bit bigger -- and suggested I go talk to him.   As Chip said, if anyone would know whether this kind of loan was possible, he should.  So I've set the wheels in motion on that front -- should have a meeting with him later this week.  

Lots to do, which is not a bad place to be -- easier to keep the incision between emotions and finances clean.  I'm going to take Kanha with me on Monday morning for the inspection -- I look forward to seeing the look on her face as she runs from one unexplored and alluring room to the next.  

The Way the Dominoes Will Fall

The sellers said yes, and agreed to leave most of the furnishings I asked for -- the bookcases in the hallways, the pot racks in the kitchen -- and even volunteered to leave the white antique hutch in the dining room.  At that moment, all my anxiety washed away and I remembered exactly why I wanted to live there -- it's a glorious home with a sense of warmth and place that Kanha and I would love.  

Unfortunately, my anxiety had only disappeared briefly.  My biggest concern isn't about all the work that needs to be done but about having enough money to make the necessary fixes, in the necessary amount of time.  As I've said a million times, the numbers work well once the commercial space is converted and that new, third, apartment is rented, but so many hoops to clear before then.  Will the city allow that space to morph from a quaint old retail shop into a shiny new living space?  Can I convert the owner financing quickly into conventional financing, perhaps even before the apartment has been created?  Will I be able to get enough out of the conventional mortgage to finance enough improvements to keep the place from falling over?  Is there a real risk of it falling over or can I do the repairs sequentially as I find the money to fund them?  To mix a metaphor, it's more like a series of dominoes -- will they all (mostly?) fall neatly into place?  

The good news is if they fall askew, I can exit with very little financial pain -- the fees for the appraisal and inspections -- although substantial emotional hurt I expect.  But one can always get over a broken heart, even if it's such a huge gorgeous house that breaks it.

I am in fact in Detroit, staying right downtown in the Omni Hotel that sits on the Detroit River, with Windsor, Ontario directly across the watery divide I see out my hotel window.  I went out to walk for a few minutes along their Riverwalk when I got in;   the city may be beat up and abused -- broken windows, broken buildings on every block on the drive here -- but what a glorious spot tonight to clear my head.  Breeze blowing, smell of bread baking from a factory across the border, people biking, dogs barking.  My load feels a little lighter.

Plunged

Late at night, the offer officially in, feeling exhausted.  Lots of contingencies, lots of potential outs, but it's another big step forward, a $15K check if nothing else.  The thing to remember is no one else sees the house with my eyes, for better or worse -- I would argue I see all the possibilities and am not worried about the difficulties, the unfinished edges that may last a long long time, while my friends, my protectors, tell me the difficulties will overwhelm me and my pocketbook.  Who is right?  The problem is  I can't know until long after I take the plunge.  But, in any case, won't I -- we -- have had a great place to live?

The sellers' response is due by 6 pm tomorrow when I'll be on a plane to Detroit.  Heading for the most depressed city in the country might be good -- any celebration will be appropriately muted.

Craziness

Lots of phone calls back and forth with Nikki this morning, see-sawing price and financing ideas.  We're at $535K with the sellers' mortgage terms, which is a better price than I thought I would get but doesn't leave me any money to fix the place up.  Where will that come from?  Oh, I think I asked that question yesterday.  

I'm meeting with Nikki at 5 pm this afternoon to put it in writing -- I also have a call in to a commercial real estate broker in Portland and an appointment with a lawyer who does real estate work with the city on Friday.  And I'm not signing anything without an out through the inspection -- they may not bring the price down any more, but I can still bail out if - as my friend Barbara (who thinks I'm crazy) suggests -- all the walls have to be ripped out so that wiring has to be replaced and the repair bills go from $100K to $300K.   (If that's true, I would agree that I'm a bit crazy.)

Hard not to feel anxious but as I said to Barbara -- I like excitement in my life and nothing in my life right now, except Kanha, is exciting.  This would be, to say the least.  

Living or Escaping?

I went to see another house with Nikki today, and brought Kanha too - a house at the other end of the scale:  sloping floors (not just crooked or soft in spots but at least a bunny ski hill routing through the kitchen), carpeting instead of hard wood, odd shaped rooms sold as extra sitting areas, a tiny bowling alley of outdoor space, and, for sure, no view.  Of course the price is only $189K -- too bad it doesn't work that I could buy a view with the differential I'd save vs. my desired house.  

When we had finished walking through the property and stepped out onto the street, Nikki said to me, "Oh, I have some information about the other house" -- to her, it's just "the other house" -- and my stomach did that slight flip that comes whenever news that matters is about to be given or received.  I looked at the flowering garden in the next house's yard and froze the moment in place, then listened.  To fairly good news, as it turns out.  They've come down to $575K, a full $120K down from their asking price.  Of course, this is a price that no inspection can undo -- it's take it or leave it.  Which would (will?) be fine as long as I don't have to get financing.  If the sellers can't finance it -- and that seems slightly less certain based on Nikki's feedback today -- and I have to get a bank or mortgage company to come up with the money, I will no longer be the one with the final say.  

Nikki is going back with a counter offer of $525K and then we'll have to put something in writing if we're still talking.  Another offer is still threatened, which might or might not happen.  As Nikki said, better not to think of that and pursue my own interests independently.  Whatever else happens is in someone else's hands, hands that have been persistently unforthcoming so far.  

I'm feeling hopeful now and, more surprisingly, nervous.  I suppose it's the natural outcome of getting closer to the reality of what has been hard to get -- it's the old problem of loving something you can't have;  once you can have it, perhaps it (he?) is not so hot.  For me, I think it goes beyond that though.  I went to see the uber-chick flick Eat Pray Love tonight after dropping Kanha off, all about a woman's search for identity and meaning in life after a searing divorce -- it's put me in that soul-searching zone, a place I visit often for reasons confusing to me as visiting rarely feels either comfortable or particularly clarifying.  So am I searching for a life, my life, in this house, a place to put my energies and passions and creativity?  If so, is that wrong?  Perhaps the better question is -- is it an escape from the life I'm living or can it become the life I want to, was meant to, live?  No Ketut, Julia Robert's Balinese spiritual advisor, to answer me tonight.