01 February 2018

Renovation Weather

I hadn’t looked for a house in a year and a half. Hunting came to a halt when Tyler and I found a great rental, a house I loved in a location I didn’t. And then we broke up and I lived in a series of cold cabins with dirty carpets. I hate cabins with carpets.

In November I went on a ride with my friend Lynne and afterwards she took me over to a house her neighbor was working on. Downtown, huge garage and accessory unit, beautiful woodwork, mature trees in the yard, sunlight. It was $300,000, but the owner could have asked more. Lynne said she wanted friends in her neighborhood. I talked to Debbie and as usual she shot it down, reminding me of how realistic numbers like that were. I acquiesced.

I did a casual browse of Zillow a couple days later and saw a disheveled little house in Driggs that was $100,000 less than the one I had looked at. The photos on the listing sucked: dingy carpet, trash and belongings left behind, and most of the images were of the basement construction zone. I sensed miles of potential. I showed Cy and my coworker Jill and they agreed.
It was such a gross house.
I called up one of the realtors posted on Zillow, although I later realized it wasn’t his listing. He told me I could look at it whenever. The three of us tramped around the house getting excited, imagining the passive income from a rental apartment in the basement.

For the first time, I showed Debbie a property and instead of saying hell no, she said…do it. So I did. I made an offer and was under contract within a week, terrified of what that entailed. Convincing the mortgage people that I deserved a fat loan took some doing and some parental assistance (a loan disguised as a gift), but my mortgage is now slightly less than rent was.

This winter has been pretty bullshit and it couldn’t have picked a better year to suck. Over the holidays I was happy devoting ten hours a day to my house instead of skiing and touring. I didn’t care that it rained, blustered, crusted up, and dumped snow then warmed to sludge, all while avalanche danger remained sky high. Throw in a medical emergency to keep things interesting and I had no desire to ski. I was busy pouring concrete countertops, prying up carpet tack strips (people who install carpets are monsters), putting in wood floors, painting every room, cleaning, always cleaning.
The big sunny living/dining space is my favorite part.
Cy was in charge and I just followed directions and we really figured out the meaning of sweat equity. It was amazing three weeks later to walk around the warm, sunny rooms and know I had just increased the house’s value by way more than I had put into renovations. All the credit goes to Cy for his incredible hard work, generosity, and complete investment in a property that isn’t his.

I haven't gotten enough exercise, I feel schlubby and lethargic, but I've realized that by buying a house I’m settling down for the long haul and maybe it’s okay that every season isn’t devoted to progression and the frantic hamster-wheeling of “getting after it.”

I’ve paid my first month of mortgage and my old rental got claimed so I’m finally off the hook for breaking my lease. And in the morning I walk to work and it takes eight minutes, too short even to listen to a podcast, just right for some quiet zoned-out thinking before I’m suddenly at the office. Huge quality of life boost.
Oh yeah, I have an enormous toy palace too.

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