May 2007

We are on the flight home now. I just finished up the entry I started on the way out, having spent all my computer time thus far editing photos. It’ll be nice to return from a trip and have all my pictures and posts ready to go for a change.

Our day in Seattle went smoothly enough; it was nice visiting with Dan and Seattle was a really cool down in which to spend a day with him. Brunch in the rotating Space Needle restaurant was truly the best way to kick off our vacation. Afterward we kicked around town until we could walk anymore, met up with Tim at the hotel, and grabbed a late dinner before hitting the sack.

The cruise aboard the Norwegian Pearl was amazing beyond description. We enjoyed running all over the ship, gazing out at the mountainous shore, playing board games and bingo, relaxing with massages and hot tubs, and exploring new cities. We visited the Alaskan Brewery and took a tram to the top of Mt. Roberts in Juneau; hiked our way to the Laughton Glacier from Skagway; bummed around Ketchikan looking at salmon, eagles, and totem poles; and discovered what a sleepy, unexciting town Victoria, B.C. is, where the most interesting destination downtown still open past 5 p.m. is a wax museum.

There were a few arguments during the trip, mostly tense little disagreements over stupid things because we were around each other more than usual. But everything always worked itself out by dinnertime. Having Tim and the Websters around was awesome. They added another dimension to the trip that we would have missed had it been a family-only affair. There were also a few scares, like the glacier hike that almost wasn’t. We never thought twice about booking the one excursion that interested us through the Norwegian Cruise Lines website. It didn’t occur to me to check for an email confirmation, but when we found out at the on-board excursion desk that our registration never went through we spent lots of energy fretting and scheming about how we’d be able to hike. In the end we scored two tickets from the Norwegian Star, but it was a worrisome few days.

More about this hike we almost missed. First of all, we got to make the hike in snowshoes. It was incredibly awkward at first having to walk like a gunslinger so I didn’t step on myself, and an odd feeling overall knowing that much of what we were walking over was either more dangerous or impossible without them. Every now and then someone stepped into a particularly soft spot and ended up knee- or waist-deep. Highlights include trekking across a wide river covered in snow — we could hear the water gushing only two feet below us for the whole 20-foot crossing — and making our way upstream to a waterfall by jumping across and weaving around flowing water. It was quite a rush.

The ship itself was spectacular. It was a new vessel having recently made its inaugural voyage in November. The “freestyle cruising” model that Norwegian uses is much, much nicer than the alternatives. It was convenient and fun to make our own reservations from night to night, and in the one occasion that we couldn’t get a table in our desired restaurant for a party of 11, we simply picked a different one. The food was exquisite in every restaurant and even the buffet and the staff was overly friendly in every instance. Our one complaint was with the bullshit Bingo, where they used automatic machines that let everyone play 72 cards at once and negated the possibility of winning with the paper cards that we find to be more fun; not only that, but they charged more for them too. That’s it though, our only complaint and my final text detail.

The photos of all this and more are up in their own online album and are a lot more descriptive.

House worries can hold off for a week while we enjoy our vacation. The trip was a gift to Lauren, Dana, Jamie and my grandmother from Dia and me for X-mas, the best part being that we presented it (no pun intended) as a scavenger hunt. We planned it down to the last detail and spent hours prepping the pieces, and since I have nothing better to do right now, I’ll relate those details here.

We bought each of my sisters a small gift, something they would be content in receiving but would still leave them wondering, “Really? This is it? I got Bob a <insert gift here> and Dia a <insert gift here>, and together they only got me this?” The scavenger hunt set-up.
Looking for clues.
Solving the last riddle. We wrapped them up and put them under the tree upon our arrival at Rudderow South. The real presents were the giant X-mas sacks we hid in our room, one for each of them. As anticipated, the girls lobbied to open their presents on Christmas Eve, and since I’m usually the lone holdout to the requisite unanimous vote they were shocked when I acquiesced. So for the first time ever we proceeded to open our presents early. It wasn’t until wrapping paper was strewn across the room that regret began to set in: no presents to open in the morning, nothing to look forward to anymore. Dia and I had trouble keeping straight faces, and an even harder time trying to sleep as visions of scavenger hunts danced in our heads.

The next morning we heralded the arrival of Santa Claus. The girls trod skeptically down the stairs to find their sacks of presents waiting.

Now, in each sack were a bunch of additional gifts — individually wrapped — to prolong the fun and throw suspicion off the scavenger hunt until they were all ready: a license plate cover, a mini-umbrella, a box of tiny bubble magnets I made from family photos, stickers, and a green Philadelphia-Eagle-themed copy of the family house key. The pieces of the puzzle included: a bottle cap, a small key on the same ring as the house key, and a gold skeleton key imprinted with one third of the first clue. Here’s what unfolded next in terms of the big present:

1. Jamie found her bottle cap first since she dumped her bag out all at once, but thought nothing of it.
2. Lauren noticed the extra key on the ring and immediately became suspicious that something was up, though she kept opening presents.
3. Dana found her skeleton key, and noticed the phrase “IDE THE CHRI” printed very small. When she deduced that it was part of a phrase, and put it together with the fact that everyone was opening different versions of the same presents, she demanded the three keys.
4. They figured out the phrase LOOK INS – IDE THE CHRI – STMAS TREE and, well, did.
5. They removed the box we had hung inside our fake tree the night before. (Fortunately when we arrived there was no one home to interfere with our preparations.)
6. On the box were three locks, which Lauren recognized as the right size for the key she had found. Jamie knew which lock her key would open as soon as she noticed that one of the locks bore a symbol matching the bottle cap she found earlier.
7. The box opened to reveal a set of three ring watches, and as expected they went to try them on immediately. Each found a note rolled inside: The hunt begins. Say nothing and proceed immediately to <insert room here> and turn on the ceiling fan.
8. The first clue for each girl fluttered to the floor, sending each on different path of riddles written in rhyming couplets that would take them all over the house and even outside. (Poor Dana ended up with the clue leading to the barn across the street.)
9. At the end of each individual path lay another challenge, this time a word scramble that could be solved more easily while working together. Lauren and Jamie made quick work of the cipher and soon had the locations to literally the last pieces of the puzzle.
10. 10. The final locations were searched. Finally, Lauren, Dana and Jamie were in possession of six pieces of paper that combined to form one final riddle: a calendar page from the month of May, with squares 19-27 marked off, cut into the shape of Alaska.

It was a long riddle, but one that everyone agreed was worth the payoff. Dia and I invested a lot of time and money into putting it all together, shopping for supplies, constructing everything, writing the clues and finally hiding them, and keeping it a big secret from everyone. It was fun to watch them laughing their ways all around the house wondering where our trail would lead them, almost as awesome as seeing their expressions when they learned we were heading out west together and that our grandmother was coming too.

So here we are, enjoying the fruits of our labor with a big group trip to Alaska. After all the preparations it’s still hard for me to believe that we’re finally on our way.

Also on the plane with us right now are my parents (though they paid their own way), and all eight of us will be spending the day in Seattle. Tim is meeting us tonight at the Hampton Inn to join us for the cruise as well — our trip became more appealing ever since his brother bailed on their family trip, meaning Tim would be the only person under 40 and single. Finally, the Websters are also coming; they’re spending the night at the airport since they get in late, but we’ll meet up with them on the ship. The final familiar face on our trip will be Dan. He’ll be meeting us at the hotel and spending the day with us: first for brunch atop the Space Needle then sightseeing then dinner with us and Tim.

I’m looking forward mostly to making it aboard our ship where the real vacation can begin. Not only will I be able to shuffle off the role of organizer, but it’ll mean an end to my most annoying travel experience ever. Starting with the months of incessant questions from all members of the family, peaking with this morning’s phone call from Dana telling me that she and the other girls were at the wrong airport only two hours before our flight was scheduled to take off, and finally settling into the slow burn of a five-hour flight without reclining our seats since Alaska Air screwed us into the back row of the plane.

But never mind that now. Pacific Northwest, here we come!

Buying a house is taking a toll on my marriage, and I’m really not joking. Not a day has gone by that Dia and I haven’t yelled at each other since this purchasing process began. It’s beginning to look like there’s no end in sight for these quarrels, either. Well, at least we have one last vacation to Alaska next week before our miserable lives continue to fall apart.

Below is a letter I’m sending to my realtor in a few minutes.

I’m a little annoyed at the Sellers’ official response today.

Let me first start by saying that I’m still very excited about owning this house. Any trepidation that I am feeling is only because every now and then I allow Dia to get me worried about finances.

That said, I can feel my excitement dwindling every time I start to think about the things I learned at the home inspection — the things I could not possibly be expected to have known as a first-time home buyer. I’m thrilled to take on this renovating challenge, but in order to focus on the things I had planned to do I have to be sure the rest are taken care of by the Sellers.

1. RADON - Addressed satisfactorily
2. OUTSIDE TERMITES - Addressed satisfactorily
3. ROOF - Addressed poorly: “noted roof corrections” does not spell out whether they will actually re-tar and re-silver the roof, or whether they will provide proof of warranty. Normally I’d agree that either option would be fine, but the fact it was not spelled out in the Sellers’ officially documented response frankly annoys me.
4. CHIMNEYS: not addressed at all
5. PATIO: not addressed at all
6. BALCONY: not addressed at all
7. WINDOW FRAMES: not addressed at all
8. STOOPS/STEPS: not addressed at all
9. BASEMENT TOILET: not addressed at all
10. FIREPLACE: not addressed at all

I’m not familiar with real estate etiquette, but common sense seems to dictate that neglecting to address even one fourth of our concerns shows a lack of respect. Whether I have a right to be or not, I’m extremely angry.

We have scheduled appointments for Saturday and Monday mornings to get estimates for the chimney and concrete work, and we will provide you with estimates Monday afternoon. (I think Dia got an estimate over the phone for the minor electrical work, and will hopefully be getting that estimate to you Monday as well.) If our concrete, masonry, and non-upgrade electrical estimates are over $2,500, then this ceases to be a practical property to purchase, and we will have no problem walking away from this money pit especially when considering that in order to get estimates for everything else on the list we need to have access to the house and rearrange our lives to schedule an appointment.

As a side note, I’m frustrated we didn’t note the low-hanging power lines or asbestos vinyl tile in our corrective proposal, but Dia tells me it’s too late to do anything about this from a real estate transaction standpoint. To help alleviate my frustration, I went ahead and reported the hazardous power lines to PECO and they’ll be sending someone out to the property soon; the vinyl tiles I’ll just remove myself and hope I don’t get lung cancer in 20 years. LOL.

We’ll see how this weekend’s estimates pan out and get back to you Monday. Either we were wrong and $2,500 will just about cover everything or we’ll be notifying the seller that their lack of response is unsatisfactory and we’d like our $10,000 good faith money back. The place is a dump that was never properly maintained (seriously, no flue caps?) and there is too much at stake to be making this kind of gamble.

I hope this letter doesn’t come across as disrespectful to you, as I think you’ve been absolutely wonderful in putting up with us through this incredibly annoying (because of us) process. I’m just flabbergasted that we waited all week for a form letter containing fewer than 30 original words — and that’s counting proper names, dates, and signatures.

Sincerely,
Bob

And if I hear one more comment from someone who either doesn’t have home renovation experience, or is satisfied living in a townhouse, I’m going to scream. Seriously.

We’re letting the Great American Real Estate Process work its magic for us now. Whether it yields us a new house or our deposit checks returned in the mail remains to be seen. Shortly after writing my last post I headed up to bed where Dia and I spent half an hour rehashing the projected expenses, anticipated stumbling blocks and every other variable again. With everything we found in our house inspection expected to eat away at our renovation fund we decided that it wasn’t worth it to buy the house unless there we took care of all the surprises first. We pulled no punches when sending the sellers our post-inspection addendum; there was no point in sugarcoating the things we found only to own a house we weren’t happy with. Dia received early word from our realtor that they’re coming up with estimates for our list of concessions, hopefully meaning that they’re realistic about the house’s condition and are willing to make sure this deal goes through. With all the unforeseen repairs taken care of, if financially instead of in actuality, then we’re back on track to owning our dream construction project.

Our house may not be as wonderful as I pictured it on the day we made our offer. There were more things that need updating than we initially thought, such as converting the electric from 100 to 200 amps, putting a new cap on the chimney, upgrading the heater so it can handle central air before we even purchase a condenser, and treating for termites on the property (not the house).

We still love our little diamond in the rough, but with these important fixes sucking the money out of the savings we allotted for the kitchen and walls it’s becoming clear that it’ll take a lot more than a few months to do what we want. If we don’t get a credit from the seller, we might not be following through with this house after all.

Now I find myself wishing I kept my big mouth shut about finding this place. I’ve still got much of my adventurous spirit regarding the repairs, thankfully, though I can see it starting to wear thin if our progress ends up being slower than expected. Dia’s dad biting off more than he can chew, running out of money before we get much of anything done, not being able to handle things we thought we could… these new things are starting to weigh on me in addition to my initial worries about design aesthetics, time management, and scheduling.

It also doesn’t help that I brought my grandmother to the home inspection, where the voiced her concerns about purchasing such a house. She kept mentioning how my cousin paid only a little more for a beautiful condo that didn’t need any work, and wouldn’t listen to our concerns about privacy, shared walls, or wanting a challenge. Things like “So much grass to mow” and “Look at all the things you have to fix”, while to be expected from my otherwise perfect 80-year-old grandmother, really stoked the fire of doubt with which we were already wrestling.

I still think we have what it takes to whip this place into shape, although I can’t be sure that Dia knows just what we’re getting ourselves into. If we do it we should do it right, and I’m having trouble conveying to her that we will not be able to do this cheaply, fast, and well at the same time. We’re going to have to sacrifice one and I can’t guarantee our wallets, patience or dedication to craftsmanship won’t wear thin.