tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81534435478996206242024-02-19T04:15:14.172-05:00thefourthdoorone couple's renovation realities...behind the fourth doorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01379368285379734705noreply@blogger.comBlogger338125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8153443547899620624.post-73809750014983875002013-07-11T10:23:00.002-04:002013-07-16T20:45:01.771-04:00Selling the first Door. p3. No longer a landlord and we love it. This past year without the college rental has been AWESOME. I can barely describe how nice it's been to have that albatross off our shoulders. To no longer worry about the condition of the place, getting the rent in on time, getting renters for a year, about the appliances and if they were about to die...the list goes on and on.<br />
<br />
Our old renters were scheduled to move out this summer, which meant months of showings and trying to get new tenants signed for the coming year. And it would also mean that mid-June to mid-July we'd be pulling duty at the rental getting it into top shape for the coming year. Even with good renters there is work to do after move out.<br />
<br />
Having these four weeks back means we get to work on our own renovations, and enjoy the summer too because we're not up against a hard and fast deadline of Mid-July for move it. So instead of burning ourselves out on an intense burst of four weeks worth of annoying work, we can keep our pace going on at the Wee house. I always felt like when the work was done and the renters moved in that it was like waking up completely and realizing that you've slept a month away with a horrible dream.
Since I wasn't going to burn vacation time working on the place, we were mainly weekend and after work warriors. Sure we could have hired a contractor to get the work done for us, but that cost would have put our measly profit margin deep into the red for the year.<br />
<br />
The first six months after selling, it was a lot like normal when we didn't get calls from 57. As the new year approached we'd mention how nice it was to not have to worrying about a random call saying the heat wasn't working, or have getting a water bill that show the equivalent of an Olympic sized swimming pool getting filled. January and February is also when we start the search for new tenants, usually culminating in a few stress filled months until the contract was signed. There was none of that stress this year. We lalalala'd our way through the spring, happy as can be because it was no longer our responsibility and we couldn't give two shits about who does or doesn't sign the rental contract.<br />
<br />
When the middle of June hit this year, and we didn't have to load up for a long weekend of work over there in 57, but instead got to work on the Wee house, well that was just as fabulous. Certainly we didn't need to do the work every year, and by this point we'd done so many renovations on the place that it shouldn't need major work this year, but still the knowledge that it wouldn't be us scrubbing up random DNA off every surface was fanfrickingtastic.<br />
<br />
Selling the place when we did was completely worth it for us and is a decision that we haven't regretted for a second this past year. After all the whine I've done about the place, you still always wonder if you're letting go of your investment at the right time. Sort of like selling stocks. Sure I wish we sold in 2007. So do a lot of people. You live and learn, and I'm just glad that we crunched the numbers and realized it was time to let the place at a below rock bottom price. I can't even say it hurt to go below rock bottom, because it would have hurt more to hold on to the place for another year.<br />
<br />
Would we go back into the rental game and become landlords again? Maybe. I've learned to never say never with all this house business. Owning and managing a full time rental is never as easy as people make it out to be, but I do realize that people can, and do, make a nice income from owning a rental. If we ever do become landlords again at least I'll go into it with a real view of what it can really be like sometimes.
(Yes, we still have the beach condo which we rent out during the summer. But that is so different than dealing with a full time renter that I don't count it as the same thing)behind the fourth doorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01379368285379734705noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8153443547899620624.post-38216579123925123432013-06-18T11:08:00.000-04:002013-06-18T11:08:04.596-04:00Selling the first door... pt 2.June 2012. <br />
<br />
Our original buyer has secured financing again for the purchase of the college rental. Collectively Pete and I are 1.5% excited about the prospect of selling the rental. Overall we're cautious and make plans as if selling it isn't an option that is ever going to pan out. Blase is the best word for our attitudes at this point.<br />
<br />
Inspection happens and we get a list of the repairs needed before the sale can go forward. Really the list isn't that bad but it's also not that great, because now we need to shell out the money for everything that needs "fixing" from our own pocket. Remember, we've been burned before with house sales falling through days before closing so spending this money could really be no return on investment. We load up at the hardware store and let the tenants know we'll be there for a few nights during the week to work. At this point we have a pretty good relationship with the girls and they're fine with our presence. <br />
<br />
We're getting down to the final days before the sale. At this point, we're about 3% excited about the possibility of selling the place. I didn't even ask for the time off of work for closing until about 72 hours out from the sale.<br />
<br />
The morning of closing dawns and we both work from home for a few hours. When the time comes to leave the house we act as if we're going to the grocery store, instead of headed towards the sale of our biggest pain in the ass property that we were dying to get rid of. At the real estate office we make make polite conversation with the agent, the buyers and the bank official that was there to give us the money. I remember thinking that it wasn't over and at any point everyone was going to stand up and leave, leaving the deal dead on the table. There were some delays with various things and each time a delay happened my heart would start pounding and blood would rush fast, as I was positive that it was the end. After about two hours of expecting, nay knowing, the sale was not going to go through, we sold the first door.<br />
<br />
Suddenly we one less house.<br />
<br />
Apparently selling houses isn't just an urban legend, it actually happens and it happened to us!<br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: silver;">Up next... the reality of no longer having the college rental.</span><br />
behind the fourth doorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01379368285379734705noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8153443547899620624.post-64687797575613903262013-06-17T13:12:00.001-04:002013-06-17T13:12:37.225-04:00Selling the first door... Pt. 1<span style="background-color: white; color: black;">Thank you for the kind words about my less than triumphant return to blogging! I can't tell you how nice it was to read the comments and how they helped inspire me on to not let the blog slowly die floundering (again).</span><br />
<br /><span style="background-color: white; color: black;">Now that we're measuring our renovation in terms of years everything is really starting to really swim together. I find myself stumped about when we did/demo'd/built certain things more often than not lately. Keeping track of everything on here would be helpful for my growing older memory. For most of my life I've kept a journal, going all the way back to when I first learned how to write and it's a blast looking over my life in those old notebooks and diaries. One of my first entries is "I am lerning how to writ cursiv and do not like it." (I still don't like to write in cursive, btw) Also, I lost my grandfather from Dementia/Alzheimer's so I know how precious memories are and I'm trying my hardest to preserve what I can now in case the same horrible disease strikes me in my old age. I hope to high heaven it never does though, as the thought of losing all I hold dear in my head is scary beyond belief.</span><br />
<br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: black;">So... where to start... I left off with the start of 2012, ready for a new year, and a whole new attitude regarding our 'too many houses' situation.</span><br />
<br /><span style="background-color: white; color: black;">Let's go even further back.. in March of 2011 we put the college rental up for sale. We didn't think that we had a chance of selling it until the crappy tenants were out in three months and we had a got in there to fix it up. Given the horrible condition, our speculation was that we'd not only get no offers from buyers but that we'd get some seriously less than desirable tenants. </span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><br /><span style="background-color: white;"></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: black;">For some wonderful reason Karma smiled on us and we signed a contract with the <u>best college tenants in the entire world</u>. Somehow they saw through the complete filth and destruction that the property was in and signed for the upcoming school year. It was a complete miracle that we got such great tenants with the unit in the condition that was in and to this day we're still so thankful for those girls. (No offers during this time- FYI). </span><br />
<br /><span style="background-color: white; color: black;">So June 2011 comes and we spend a solid month transforming our beat to shit, smells like an old bar, and looks like an abandoned building, college rental into something that we'd even live in. It was hard. Possibily the hardest transformation we've ever done and in the shortest time frame yet. I might write a post about that month, but might not as I'm afraid it would just come across like a whinefest.</span><br />
<br /><span style="background-color: white; color: black;">Months go on while the real estate market gets worse. And we've had zero offers on the place. So, we drop the price. Time goes on. 2011 turns into 2012. And still no offers. We instead focus on getting the girls to sign for another year. "Give them anything they want" we told our agent. Getting tenants to sign for two years is always a relief, but getting these girls to sign again would amazing and would talk a lot of pressure of us for the coming year. When the girls signed for another year I almost cried with relief. </span><br />
<br /><span style="background-color: white; color: black;">Suddenly out of nowhere we started getting showings in March of 2012. And then we got offers. Multiple offers. Really low offers, but offers just the same! We picked the better offer and started to work with them. Having been burnt badly by a house sale that fell through 10 days before closing, we were cautious and didn't let ourselves get any hopes up at all. It's a damn good thing we kept all expectations low, because what followed was a roller coaster of a house sale. Two weeks shy of the closing date, the sale fell through because the bank pulled their financing from our extremely qualified buyer. We'd already mentally prepared ourselves for the news and carried on like the sale never was an actuality. Most important, as we told ourselves time and time again, was that we had girls signed for another year. That gave us time to focus on getting other things done before we had to come up with new tenants, or a new plan of maybe moving into the rental ourselves.</span><br />
<br /><span style="background-color: white; color: black;">Three weeks went on after the sale fell through and we got more low offers. While in the process of working out a deal with someone else, our first buyer walked back into the picture. Apparently he'd been working that whole time to secure financing with another bank. Despite him being an <i><b><u>extremely</u></b></i> qualified buyer, it's hard as hell right now to get a loan through most banks for a property in a complex that is 99% rental units. It seemed like that he really wanted the place and was willing to jump through the hoops in order to get it.</span><br />
<br /><span style="background-color: white; color: black;">I finally let myself get a teensy bit excited at this point. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: black;">But only the teensiest of amounts. </span><br />
<span style="color: black;"><br /><span style="background-color: white;"></span></span>
<span style="color: black;"><br /><span style="background-color: white;"></span></span>behind the fourth doorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01379368285379734705noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8153443547899620624.post-7732498356753424902013-03-26T12:13:00.000-04:002013-03-26T12:29:03.536-04:00State of the doors.Has it really been over a whole year since I last updated the blog? <br />
<br />
I'll hit the highlights of what everyone assumes happens when you go radio silent for over a year. <br />
Not pregnant. No baby. Still happily married. Still have the houses. Still renovating one house and have not given up. Not hiding out in a cave wearing a tinfoil hat and completely freaked out about the direction this world is headed in (yet).<br />
<br />
Please let me know if I missed another reason.<br />
<br />
I stopped writing for one important reason and one silly reason.<br />
<br />
Silly reason is: I didn't feel like I was good enough to write a blog and that I should give up. That maybe people were only tuning in to read my horrific grammer and laugh at my excessive comma usage. And that somewhere out there is an ex or frienimy who is saying "I knew Eva was a moron, but man, she's really dumb." I'd hit one of those really introspective points of my life where I examined everything about who I was and what I was potraying to the outside world. And that maybe, it was me and I was the problem. With my excitment, natural enthusiasm (for everything), self centered nature, and tendancy to talk first, think later. So I spent the better part of 2012 hiding from others because I felt like I was so annoying that who would possibly want to hang out with me. My friends slowly stopped getting emails and phone calls. And in turn, the blog suffered. I felt like I couldn't be honest on here because it would just be used for fodder against me and confirming that I was indeed a giant idiot. <br />
<br />
It also seemed like other bloggers were just so much better and <strong>more</strong> than I could ever be. They could craft a long post and have it flow effortlessly along. Their blogs were carefully designed and certainly didn't rely on the standard blogger background. Most importantly, they knew what their style was and I still couldn't pick my style out of a line up. I felt like an imposter.<br />
<br />
<br />
Important reason: The last half of 2011 was rough house wise. We'd been balancing everything- the primary house, the wee house, building the garage, the beach rental and the college rental for years, and it was getting hard. That was never our plan. We were going to sell the house we live in, use the profit to fix up and then pay down the wee house. The college rents were going to go up with every new set of tenants and the property was going to go up in value as the college accepted more students. Eventually we'd sell and use that profit to pay off our now complete Wee house. Except that pesky little thing called the real estate bubble burst wide open and recession spewed everywhere. <br />
<br />
Suddenly we couldn't sell our house for a profit. Or at all.<br />
<br />
The rents dropped at our college rental and we had trouble finding renters. All when the town raised our taxes to almost double what were paying before. Our new tenants were the worst we'd ever had, by far.<br />
<br />
Construction on the garage was taking longer than we expected, in part because of six months of crappy weather in early 2011. In part because building a garage in your spare time on the weekends, 100% DIY as a husband and wife team, takes time.<br />
<br />
Our beach house was hemorrhaging value.<br />
<br />
And then I got a raging case of 'I can't keep doing this anymore'. All these houses weren't investments, they were anchors driving us down, doing the very opposite of what they were intended to do. Keeping us from being able to enjoy our lives, building stability early on so we maybe didn't have it as hard later in life. I began to really resent the houses. It got worse after my second nephew was born in June. We were elbows deep into fixing up the college rental and I took a half day off of work to see him the day after he was born. I couldn't even spare the time to go up and see him on a weekend to help my sister and cuddle this new little guy, as Pete and I were spending 14 hour days fixing up the college rental each weekend because we had a hard and fast deadline approaching for the new tenants and their move in date. Every smash of a hammer was just a reminder of what the houses were denying me. Time with my family, time with my husband, and weekends that didn't slip away in a blur of dirt and hard work. Most importantly they kept us from feeling stable. Everything was so strenuous that we knew if one more fly landed, the whole apple cart would tip over and we could lose it all. <br />
<br />
That was when, in September of 2011, I lost my shit. Tired of holding it all in and telling myself that things would get better if I just kept at everything, I blew up at Pete. I just couldn't keep going feeling like we were running backwards to catch up. We needed new goals now, since the old ones got ruined by the economy and it was getting more apparent as time went on that things were never going to be the same. Except at the time I don't think I got that across so, uh, clearly. It was mostly high pitched screaming coming from me and then me crying out of frustration. Sometimes you have a fight as a married couple and come out of it feeling productive. We don't fight really, and rarely to that magnitude, but I think this one was cathartic and allowed us to get it all out there. A lot of what I was holding onto was let go, and I felt like we could finally more forward again if we were both on the same page. <br />
<br />
So, in summary. The houses were killing us. I'd lost my motivation. 2011 was hard. I gained weight.<br />
<br />
2012 dawned after hours of slamming cheap champagne and dancing. It was a new year, and I had a new attitude to go along with it. Because in addition to the dancing and champagne, we went outside and talked for a good long while about our goals for the year, and then us, as a couple and our future. It was heartening. And gave me the motivation I needed for the time yet to come.behind the fourth doorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01379368285379734705noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8153443547899620624.post-43650740663608281672012-01-31T16:14:00.003-05:002012-01-31T16:34:11.322-05:00Muffin Problem, Solved!Remember all the pissing and moaning about my muffin top last year?<br /><br />I'm pretty happy to report that I have fixed the muffin top problem! All by buying a pair of $6 overalls off the clearance rack at Target. Overalls which, if I'm honest, give me an illusion of a spare tire, but I'll consider it to be the lesser of two body evils. Especially since the tire is imagined but the muffin top was <em>oh so very real</em>.<br /><br />Everything designated "Work Clothes" got an honest assessment from me and I ended up piling up a ton of old clothes for donation. It felt pretty good to get rid of the old, tight clothes and just stick with a few essentials that I know fit me well and can do what I need out of them. For instance, my winter work jacket was a very warm, very old pink puffer jacket from the GAP. It was an XS and my arms stuck out of the sleeves like some sort of awkward 13yr old after a growth spurt (oh the memories!!) and once I zipped up the jacket over my many layers, I could barely move. Usually I'd end up abandoning the jacket while working in favor of movement.<br /><br />Did I mention my new work "jacket" is a men's fleece lined flannel shirt? I look so 1994. And a little bit like a lumberjack.behind the fourth doorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01379368285379734705noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8153443547899620624.post-14880188138842062902012-01-30T17:01:00.005-05:002012-01-30T17:48:08.447-05:00Planning the yard. Not as fun as stomping it.Over the weekend Pete and I sat down at our table with a copy of our house's survey, a pencil and a plastic ruler that one of us clearly stole from a grade school. We were on a mission to seriously talk and map out a master landscaping plan for the Wee House. After many years of loose conversation and general agreement, it was high time that we penciled a plan for the yard together. Something to serve as our guide through this everlasting renovation of the Wee property, and that encompassed both of our many ideas for the outside.<br /><br />All in all, it was a well spent hour and a half. We measured, plotted, planned and dreamed our ideas right onto paper. I wouldn't call it fun. If anything it was just another reality check for how effing long this renovation is going to take us. But it was nice to get each other on the same page of our personal plans, you know, the ones that have since only existed in our respective brains or have only been verbalized in passing before this point.<br /><br />We got the following plans ironed out:<br /><br />- Driveway planning. Right now we have a mess of pebbles and sand forming something that maybe once resembled a driveway? Once the septic is done, we'll get right on getting something that doesn't look so... afterthoughtish put in.<br /><br />- Good fences make for good neighbors. We think both sets of neighbors are great people and are beyond excited to live next to them someday. However, that does not mean I want to be all up in their business and vice versa when we're out in our yards. Right now we have an uber low fence and a retaining wall and I feel like time I spend in my yard means I'm on display for everyone to see. They've really seen enough of my muffin top to last them a lifetime.<br /><br />- Privacy and noise reduction planting locations. Rather self explanatory in that I like privacy, hate noise and love plants.<br /><br />- Patio location. It'll be off the dining room. Another total no-brainer.<br /><br />- Fruit tree location. This one is totally all Eva and my crazy plan to turn the backyard into a wee farmette. I started with six fruit trees as my opening bid, but bargained down to four. Two apples trees and two peach in wide open back yard.<br /><br />- Split rail fence location for the grapes. Apparently I think that because my grandparents successfully ran a vineyard that I must have some sort of genetic aptitude for farming and viticulture.<br /><br />- Veggie Garden locations. Again, me and my crazy notions of backyard farming.<br /><br />- Tree locations. We're big believers in planting for the next generation and are trying to put as many trees in as possible while still maintaining our sunny yard!<br /><br /><br />And to think, we only resorted to name calling once during this whole thing! Go us.behind the fourth doorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01379368285379734705noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8153443547899620624.post-63254937583301044922011-10-06T10:34:00.006-04:002011-10-06T13:25:05.218-04:00Le Sigh. Le Muffin PlagueEight years ago I stood in a JC Penny dressing room as 20 year old trying on a pair of jeans. Admiring how Levi’s stepped it up a notch to introduce a new low rise selection and marveling at how I ever wore pants that came over my hips. Back in the early 2000’s I was rocking some serious low rise and skin tight denim around campus. All purchased from a multitude of mall stores, Cough Cough ::: Express Bikini Jean:: Cough.<br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>Thankfully in the years that have followed my college graduation I’ve learned a thing or two about the benefits of a (slightly) higher rise and pants that don’t cut off your circulation when you sit down. My denim stash is much less “Jersey” than it used to be and I've slowly given up all my low rise/glittered/bejewelled jeans in favor of quality design and construction.</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>Which leads me to my old pants, I’ve been slowly turning over denim from daily wear to work wear over the past couple of years. My now work pants are currently covered in a paint, rips and stains of construction origin. Which is all just fine… except… they are all REALLY low rise. </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>I'll just admit it. </div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div>I get muffin top now in my old jeans. </div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 375px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 500px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6174/6217632570_ea0856bde8.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 375px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 500px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6151/6217157331_66905dddb1.jpg" /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>While I still can get my old pants zipped up, <em>and you better believe I’m taking that small victory</em>, that doesn’t really mean they actually fit me anymore. A harsh reality that I think most women must face at some point in their lives: current body vs. the old body. My body has changed shape in the last 8 years, what with biology taking me from the fine boned, slim look of a college sophomore to the (not really) curvy statue of a corporate woman who spends her days sitting in front of the computer and commuting 3 hours a day.<br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div>In layman’s terms- Baby got some back now.<br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div>I’ve come to slowly slowly realize that I ...<br /></div><br /><br /><br /><div>a) need new work pants, a phrase alone that is contradictory to me. Work pants mean well worn and way past what is acceptable to leave the house in pants. </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>b) I do some heavy duty renovating and need a pair or two of serious pants or coveralls that can keep up. Old Express denim isn't exactly Ford tough when it is paired against plaster shrapnel. </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>c) Ultimately I have got to get rid of my renovation muffin top, it’s bad for my already piddling sense of self esteem. And it makes me feel guilty after housing a cheese steak for lunch on the weekends. </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>AndPlusAlso I’m sure my neighbors are tired of my crack hanging out every time I bend over on the job site. I know I’m tired of hiking my pants up before bending down to work.</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>This all leads me to my new shopping quest of procuring some new constructions pants. I’d like one pair of coveralls and one pair of jeans or pants, that should be enough for me to get rid of my old muffin offenders and get through the next couple years of work. </div><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div>behind the fourth doorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01379368285379734705noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8153443547899620624.post-13024846665655535902011-09-02T16:41:00.003-04:002011-09-02T16:46:42.471-04:00Nerdy Couch ConfessionYou know you have a Chesterfield addiction when...
<br />
<br />
<br />you *gasp* and in a hushed whisper say "A Chesterfield", when that tufted awesomeness pops up during a scene in Harry Potter and Deathly Hallows Pt.2
<br />
<br />The only way I could make this confession worse is when I tell you this all went down during the Midnight showing of HP7.2...
<br />
<br />Sigh. I blame Sandra Bullock. It was a candid shot of her Chesterfield Couch in some rag years ago that got me started on this dark tufted path of obsession...
<br />behind the fourth doorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01379368285379734705noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8153443547899620624.post-53745001348044748792011-08-29T12:40:00.008-04:002011-08-29T21:03:01.146-04:00Irene. Is Riotously Evil Not Evaded.<div>Phew.</div>
<br />
<br /><div></div><div>I'm so glad that last week and it's multitude of natural disasters is, well, so last week.</div>
<br /> Earthquake+ Hurricane Irene+ Tornado Activity + Flooding... I'm really ready for some boring weather going forward for the rest of the year. All these kids going back to school are going to have some interesting fodder for their " How I Spent My Summer Vacation" essays.
<br />
<br /><div></div><div>It is with an amazing amount of relief that I can report we suffered no major damages during the storm to any of our properties. Some limbs down, major flooding in our backyards, and an actual swimming pool in one of our basements. I'll take it. We're safe, my family is safe and our home is intact.
<br /></div>
<br /><div></div>
<br /><div>Unfortunately, my current town did not handle the flood waters so well and two bridges washed out almost completely during the 16' creek surge we had at the during the first bands of the storm. We think the bridge washed out sometime around 1am, because at 11:30 when Pete and I took a stroll around the neighborhood during a lull in the storm, the bridge was still there and seemed solid. There was an insane amount of water rushing into the lake, but nothing that appeared to be destructive. It was during that stroll that we went to check on our backyard, which slopes down a bit towards a teeny little drainage stream, was then about 20' deep, 75' wide and 100' across of water.
<br />
<br />The words "We're Effed" came outta out our mouths when we saw how high the water had risen. A whole multitude of gratitudes came forth for our deep property and small, sloping hill. Had we gotten the rain that was expected, which was a good 4-5" more, I have almost no doubt I'd be singing a different tune right now. </div>
<br />
<br /><div></div><div>The rain let up and we (thankfully) did not end up effed by mother nature.
<br />
<br />As for the actual storm itself, I slept through it. Like a log. In fact, it was the best night of sleep I've gotten in a while. All the stress of the preperation and anitcipation, combined with the adrenaline of area Tornado warnings just conked me out for the night. You should have seen me during the Tornado warning, I packed an essentials backback, laced up my Timbs and sat in the hallway for 15 minutes with the cat in one arm and dog on her leash like the paranoid freak that I am.
<br /></div>
<br />Hurricane season is so much more nerve wracking as an adult. I liked it better when a Hurricane was a potential day off of school.
<br />
<br /><div></div>behind the fourth doorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01379368285379734705noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8153443547899620624.post-90356641584256606082011-08-26T11:00:00.004-04:002011-08-26T11:37:51.668-04:00Waiting on Locust
<br />Flippity Flip.
<br />
<br />There is a hurricane coming our directly towards all four of our houses.
<br />
<br />Listen, this Jersey girl lives in Jersey for a reason, and I deal with all negatives that come with living in the Garden State by all the counter balance positives. I like the beach, hate extreme weather, the great soil and love myself a good mall. In 2011 I've dealt with Blizzards, 115 Degree Heat Indexes, my first Earthquake and now Irene is threatening to storm herself through almost everyone I love.
<br />
<br />And that my friends, scares the beejebus outta me.
<br />
<br />The only thing I am really, incredibly, extremely grateful for is the warning time. We have about two days to mobilize and prepare; to set plans in motion and evacuate as needed. I'll take it. Two days seems like a luxurious amount of time compared to the minutes Joplin, MO had for the tornado that caused such unimaginable devastation earlier this year.
<br />
<br />Last night after a long and stressful day at work, Pete and I hit up the grocery store and headed right over to the other house to prep as much as possible for Irene. We closed and locked all the windows, nailing some of the worse ones into the house. All the debris around the yard was pulled inside, things like picnic tables, scaffolding and the lawnmower got stashed in the safest place possible. All of Pete's tools got moved off of the garage floor, we put a lot of them inside the beastly '72 Land Cruiser. We also broke out the hammer and nailed up lots of extra supports for the front of the garage.
<br />
<br />I am nervous as hell about how the garage is going to handle this hurricane. At least I can rest easy in knowing it was built to code and then some, all thanks to my Dad and his insistence in building quality construction. And all the hurricane straps are nailed in like woah. So, that is some relief.
<br />
<br />Inside the house I tapped up a few windows and moved anything "valuable" into the center of the house. Hoping that if we get some blown out windows that things shouldn't get sucked out or ruined when the rain gets driven in.
<br />
<br />We also grabbed our two chainsaws and gassed them up. They'll stay with us during the storm in case clean up is needed afterwards.
<br />
<br />Tonight and tomorrow is prep for our house. Not going to lie, it makes me a little sick to my stomach thinking about everything that has to get done...
<br />
<br />Please stay safe through the storm everyone. I know our homes are important to us, but nothing is like the people and pets who live inside of them.
<br />
<br />xo, Eva
<br />behind the fourth doorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01379368285379734705noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8153443547899620624.post-82167258991490709862011-08-18T13:28:00.004-04:002011-08-18T13:37:40.539-04:00Not At The Big Top<p class="MsoNormal">The daylight is changing down here in South Jersey just a tiny bit, we’ve hit that time of year when nature cruelly reminds you that colder days and less sunshine are ahead and are coming faster than you'd like. Instead of exclaiming about how nice it is that the sun just went down at 9, we’re starting to see signs of the sunset starting earlier and earlier. As always late august reminds me of childhood and how I’d start to dream about the upcoming school year and all its unknown mysteries ahead. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">This year I have no school to go back to. And I’ve spent most of the summer ignoring the one outlet I have for getting out all the thoughts, feelings and memories I have associated with this time in my life.</p><p class="MsoNormal">The truth is, Pete and I obsess about our housing. Paying, planning, selling, cleaning, decorating, fixing and living in them. Most of our free-time life revolves around our houses somehow. I just needed a little break from something in our house cycle, and also, maybe my job BLOCKED BLOGGER. Since my lunch break was my number one time to blog you can imagine how much that sucked. At first I was devastated and pretty sure it was just a glitch since the page would load and load and load until I got a time out error. But as the days turned into more days, I knew it was for real and that I was going to have to figure out a new way to keep up with blogging if that was what I wanted to do. So I thought about my blog, its life cycle, where it could go and if it was what I really wanted to do by putting out my 'dirty house laundry' on the internet for everyone to see and judge.
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">The problem with blogging at home? My office tends to run at about 95 degrees in the summer with it’s non- a/c having, summer sun getting self. I don’t even turn my home computer on unless I have to because I’m freaked out about overheating and loosing everything that I haven’t backed up (everything). Plus, I’m both uber lazy and very busy. Work and full time adult life, family, friends, holidays and all that jazz.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">So with a few obstacles blocking my lazy self from blogging, I took the easy way out and gave my brain a break for a few months. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">It was nice.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Until I started realizing that I was composing blog posts in my head without even realizing it. When I found that amazing $100 Chesterfield on Craigslist, I mentally started a post about it, and then I started the follow up post that detailed how it was already sold and despite my best effort to be slimy and offer him triple the asking price- I still didn’t get my dream couch.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Oh, and the time Pete and I had 30 more minutes worth of work to do for the day before a summer storm rolled in with no signs of quitting. I mentally was telling everyone how I might win the best/most crackpot dangerous DIY award of our drenching rain installation of a ledger board on the garage. Ladder/Rain/Drill… not the safest combo ever, but Pete needed to get it done that day for his sanity and I recognized that in him, so I worked while getting drenched to the bone. With promise of dry clothes and pizza afterward.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Projects went on. </p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">The Summer Sweltered.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I met my newest love, who arrived in a 9lb11oz Nephew package.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> Harry Potter Ended. </p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Life went on.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I just didn’t blog about it.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">But I’m ready to get back to here, and hopefully everyone is ready to stick around for the rest of our house related follies</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> Sorry to disappoint any that thought maybe I ran away and joined the circus. behind the fourth doorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01379368285379734705noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8153443547899620624.post-55685144966625962762011-07-01T15:41:00.003-04:002011-07-01T15:49:44.682-04:00Lawn Maintenance, Shop Vac Style<div>The one where I tell you about how my husband had to vacuum the lawn.<br /><br /></div> <div> </div> <div>57 has a few patches of grass to its name. Nice little bits of lawn in the front, and a big enough sized pad out back. The space out back would blend seamlessly into the other units and vague "no mans land" if a two sided fence coming off of the house did not offer a bit of separation from all that. Why two sided? One side got ripped down a few years back, and we decided to keep it open as a sort of gate/passageway to the back door.<br /><br /></div> <div> </div> <div>This area out back is where kegs are kept for parties in all but the most frigid of winter weather, plays host to the nice weather beer pong games and, judging by the amount of butts in the air conditioning unit, is where the smokers go to get their nicotine fix on. The ground is a hybrid of greenery and an ancient cement landing pad. After these tenants moved out it also hosted shards of broken bottles. Not just ONE broken bottle spread about but it looked like someone was hoarding broken glass in our back yard. We have female tenants moving in next, I'm presuming that they are going to be like 97% of the female college population in their footwear choices and will wear flip flops all the time until it snows on the ground. At that point (again, presuming) they'll switch to uggs or toms. Flip flops + Broken Glass = No Bueno.<br /><br /></div> <div> </div> <div>We want these girls to like 57. Perhaps like the place so much, that *gasp* they don't destroy it and give a crap about keeping it in decent condition.<br /><br /></div> <div> </div> <div>So Pete did the most sensible thing he could think of to clean up the broken glass the backyard.<br /><br />He vacuumed the grass with the shop vac.<br /><br /></div> <div> </div> <div>It worked.<br /><br /></div> <div> </div> <div>Shop-Vacs never cease to amaze me with their versatile vacuuming ability.<br /><br />PS- We got an email from one of the tenants today asking when they could expect to see the security deposit back. Gave me a good chuckle.<br /></div>behind the fourth doorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01379368285379734705noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8153443547899620624.post-7489818795624744752011-06-30T08:30:00.001-04:002011-06-30T08:30:02.886-04:00Rubber Gloves Required<p style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;">Here is a little peak into what our lives are like when we’re working on 57. </span></p><p style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;">The first Saturday we got the keys back:</span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;">8 am: head out door</span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;">Buy much needed iced coffee at mcdonalds.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;">8:20- arrive at 57 braced for worst. Take a brief tour of the place mentally calculating damages and making notes of items that need to be replaced. Snap picture of the cabinets and measure them while jotting down the sizes on an old “how to compost” leaflet fished out of giant purse.<br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;">8:45 head off into Philly for a Habitat for Humanity RE-Store garage sale. Cheap prices plus 25%?! Yes please.<br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;">9:15 arrive at the garage sale which started a mere 15 minutes ago. The place is mobbed already.<br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;">9:20 Call dibs on a matching stainless stove and microwave set for the beach house.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;">9:25 Dibs again on a sink base.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;">9:45- I get in a long line with the tickets and my 6 free books and wait while Pete goes to snag a parking spot by the door. While waiting in line I watch multiple fights over a table set and grill happen. Also, lament that I can’t purchase the amazing French provincial buffet for uber cheap because of lack of space in house/trusty SUV. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;">10am- Buy all the items for… <span style="font-weight: bold;">$146</span>. Load the SUV where everything fits snuggly inside, curtsy of creative arranging. Amen for our large car. I’ve said it before but we could not do what we do with these houses without an SUV. It is essential to the way we do home renovations. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;">10:30- Go to Wal-Mart, pick up heavy duty cleaning supplies and some snack food to keep at 57. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;">11:30- Head over to Lowe’s for a few items for 57. Buy the exact model of dishwasher we’ve been eyeballing for the beach house on clearance for $200. <span> </span>Somehow, despite meaning to we’ve just bought the remaining appliances for the beach house. Squick.Have to leave dishwasher there for later pick up due to lack of SUV cargo space.<br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;">1pm- Picnic lunch in the shade outside of 57 on our scrap rug from the trunk, 57 smells too bad to eat in there.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;">1:30- Start scrubbing down the walls and bathroom floor. Sister-In-Law, Janet, comes over. Get almost the entire downstairs scrubbed with her help. Janet rocks. Go through a half gallon of bleach and heavy duty de-greaser.<br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;">7:00- Call it a night and head home</span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;">8:00- Head out the house showered<span> </span>and cleaned up for a quick trip to another Lowe’s to price out cabinets and get dinner.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;">8:30- Price out stock cabinets.<br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;">9:30- Ordering beer and nachos at a favorite bar to discuss the day and make a tentative budget for the place. Budget also gets written on scrap composting pamphlet.<br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;">11pm- Home. Crash into bed.<br /></span></p><p style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;">Busy and especially expensive Saturday, although, we got so much accomplished that I fell into bed feeling really good about the day. Which is really, the best way to feel when you're falling asleep.<br /></span></p>behind the fourth doorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01379368285379734705noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8153443547899620624.post-57598319016923536902011-06-29T07:54:00.004-04:002011-06-29T08:01:25.809-04:00The Draining Month Begins<p style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >Since 2004, this mid-june to mid-july has the potential to be my least favorite time of the year. It is when we get the keys back in hand from our college rental unit and have a scarce four weeks to make it habitable for the next group of renters.<span> </span>Every year we hope like crazy that our renters will want or can stay for an extra year (come on fifth year seniors!)<span> </span>Which means no clean out, no repairs and another year’s lease is signed with ease. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >In the off years between renters the unit is an unholy mess and gargantuan effort to get the place in inspection passable condition, all in the short four week down time. When we have to deal with 57 – what I call the townhouse- it eats a giant amount of our summer work schedule right up that leaves us and our wallets drained. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >This year 57 might just be the death of me. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">We’d been getting reports from our property management company, first year for them btw and it has been so worth it, about the condo and how was everything was in deplorable condition for a long while now. When the heater broke our HVAC guy gave us the skinny on the damage to the place and said he went right home and jumped in the shower after working on the unit because it was so gross. <span> </span>When we got the notice that the renters would not be returning for the next year we felt relief, these guys were trouble and the sooner they left our lives the better. However, in the meantime the unit was having trouble renting and we were getting feedback from the agents that all people they brought through got hassled by the current<span> </span>renters and that everyone was so appalled by the filth they wouldn’t consider renting it.<span> </span></span></span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >After a few really stressful months something AMAZING happened, the agent brought through a bunch of girls and a father to see the place. The girls got hassled and at that point the father gave the renter a piece of his mind about his actions and the condition that the place was kept in. (points to that dad) Amazingly, the girls signed the rental contract with us a week later!!! Angels sang down from the clouds.<br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >All that happend in the spring, flash forward to the first week of June and our contract was now up with the current tenants. The moved out on Friday, we stopped by early Saturday morning to check the place out, opening the door we braced for the worst being that there was already visible damage to the outside of the place.<span> </span>I was expecting Camden. What we got was bad. Really bad. The worst we’ve ever gotten back and this was the only time we’ve ever had tenants for just a year.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >However it wasn’t the bombed out crack house that I was expecting.<span> </span>It was more a beer soaked, dirt slimed, graffitti’d party den that was a bit of cross between a Frat house and a dive bar off of route 95. I also counted no less than 18 not-very-graphic-or anatomically correct man parts drawn on the wall. Everywhere I looked something was wrong. There were hand prints on the ceiling, vomit on floors, tons of giant holes in the walls and someone tried (and succeeded) to kick the front door in.</span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >Here is a good part to mention that both Pete and I lived at this place, separately, for over three years. NOTHING LIKE THAT EVERY HAPPENED WHEN WE LIVED THERE. Pete will even tell you about the most epic party ever that he threw where the 5 surrounding towns had to bring in their police to break it up, and yet… nothing like this damage. The worst thing that ever happened was we caught someone peeing on Pete’s car. </span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;" class="MsoNormal"><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >Let me lay out a picture of what was broken:</span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span><span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >-</span><span style="font: 7pt 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >Dryer</span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span><span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >-</span><span style="font: 7pt 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >Stove</span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span><span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >-</span><span style="font: 7pt 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >A/c</span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span><span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >-</span><span style="font: 7pt 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >Hot water heater</span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span><span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >-</span><span style="font: 7pt 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >Downstairs vanity</span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span><span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >-</span><span style="font: 7pt 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >Four doors</span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span><span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >-</span><span style="font: 7pt 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >Every wall in the dining room</span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span><span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >-</span><span style="font: 7pt 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >All but one ceiling light is broken</span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span><span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >-</span><span style="font: 7pt 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >The light in the bathroom</span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span><span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >-</span><span style="font: 7pt 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >Upstairs medicine cabinet</span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span><span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >-</span><span style="font: 7pt 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >3 yr old Carpet was shot</span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span><span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >-</span><span style="font: 7pt 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >All the walls in the living room have graffiti on them</span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span><span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >-</span><span style="font: 7pt 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >Fire Alarms ripped off the ceiling</span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span><span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >-</span><span style="font: 7pt 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >Upstairs window</span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span><span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >-</span><span style="font: 7pt 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >Front porch </span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span><span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >-</span><span style="font: 7pt 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >Walls in downstairs bathroom</span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span><span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >-</span><span style="font: 7pt 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >Every closet door is missing a handle</span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span><span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >-</span><span style="font: 7pt 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >And there are random bits of trim missing</span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span><span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >-</span><span style="font: 7pt 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >Shelves in closets</span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><span><span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >-</span><span style="font: 7pt 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >Paint, can paint be broken? Cause this paint was up the creek bad.</span></p><p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;"><br /></p><p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; font-weight: bold;"><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; font-weight: bold;"><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" > </span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; text-align: left; font-weight: bold;"><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" >The next month is just going to be splendid.</span></p><div> </div><p style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; text-align: left;"><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" > </span></p> <p style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in;"><span style=";font-family:Calibri;font-size:100%;" > </span></p>behind the fourth doorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01379368285379734705noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8153443547899620624.post-9187426201272329212011-06-27T08:35:00.000-04:002011-06-27T08:35:00.849-04:00Upgrading the microwave cart<div><br /><div><div>Let's go back about a month ago...<br /><div><br />Eva: I'm going to throw this old microwave cart away. It's just getting in the way, taking up space and we have no use for it now.<br /><br />Pete: Are you sure? Did you take a picture of it yet?<br /><br />Eva: I'm positive I snapped a pic of it. There is no way I didn't.<br /><br />The conversation ends with me bringing the 80's era wood paneled microwave cart out to the dumpster in bits. Last night I just checked my entire library of pictures. There is not <em>one single picture</em> of this horribly ugly wood sticker paneled thing anywhere hiding on my computer.<br /><br />Blogging fail.<br /><br />Unfortunately the before would have been helpful at just how far we were able to rejuvenate a little corner of the beach house for $110. Use your imagination and rest assured this microwave cart was just as horribly outdated as the rest of the condo.<br /><br />Originally sitting in this little corner was hip height mdf wonder of a "wood look" cabinet that sat on wobbly plastic wheels. One of the doors sat a precarious angel, always threatening to fall off if you closed the door with too much force. On top of the doors sat one drawer that we shoved every take out menu and spare trash bag into. Topping off this whole shebang was the matching wood look microwave. Don't you wish you had a wood paneled microwave also?! </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>Since a full kitchen renovation is on the books for the future, but not anytime soon, we knew that we'd be keeping the stand alone micowave until the point of the gut reno. It really is wicked handy to have around and we're sure that our renters appreciate us having one. However, that flipping ugly cart had to go, it was bringing down the whole look of the stairs right back into the 80's. Putting the microwave on the counter was out as a solution. Our counter space in that kitchen is almost nil. There is really no room for a microwave on the counter at all. </div><br /><br /><div>We did some combing of craigslist but nothing struck our eye as working well for a new microwave cart. Falling back to ye old faithful for the beach house, the two of us planned an Ikea trip after work. It's not exactly a "trip" so much as there is an Ikea about 15 min from where we work, but we did make plans to hit up our fave non-shore pizza spot beforehand for some cheesy saucy goodness. The budget was "as low as we could get it", but we definitely didn't want to spend more than $100. </div><br /><div>Surprisingly that amount of money doesn't give as many options as you might think.<br /><br />After combing the aisles and displays in Ikea we settled on the Bekvam, a nice solid wood kitchen rack for $60. It was a nice and small option that didn't break the break and fit the space. The nicely compact box of parts fit neatly into the back of our sedan and we drove away with the mission accomplished.<br /><br /></div><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2DUNlDZLlsVqbL1L5p-sTHtiHyv9ohVg-LNVNfvgm1tHrB6-rKlXfUm5H_B_dkGMbfLWYOjQMjEF8Dnqkdm9ILTT5vqixqqzC2HDec_-Zx_7enEm2uqBgn4cLloiMoMcv8M3eNS8e5Wc/s1600/Ikea+Cart.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 250px; display: block; height: 250px; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615698138540476514" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2DUNlDZLlsVqbL1L5p-sTHtiHyv9ohVg-LNVNfvgm1tHrB6-rKlXfUm5H_B_dkGMbfLWYOjQMjEF8Dnqkdm9ILTT5vqixqqzC2HDec_-Zx_7enEm2uqBgn4cLloiMoMcv8M3eNS8e5Wc/s400/Ikea+Cart.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />A few days after buying the cart we found ourselves at Home Depot, which isn't that strange since we're there all.the.time, and while bringing up our cartload we walked out the store right by a bathroom fixture display. There was stopping on our part admiring the really good deals to be had and we both zero'd in on this one vanity cabinet w/ a soft gray/ ivory washed color that had clean shaker lines. For $99 it came with a stone top and under mounted sink, the quality of the piece was pretty damn good considering it's recession-friendly price tag.<br /></p><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5291/5488012222_136cafc304.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 375px; display: block; height: 500px;" alt="" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5291/5488012222_136cafc304.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><p>Then I opened my big trap and " Wouldn't this look nice as the microwave cabinet?" came tumbling out before I could stop myself. Damn it Eva! I always make things more complicated. We already had a very nice cart purchased and this one was more expensive. This one was clearly nicer, and it would fill that awkward space under the stairs better. So we bought it and shoved the giant and unyielding box into the back of our SUV. </p><p>The next week, we journeyed back to Ikea to return the other cart and while browsing the fantastic "As-Is" section I snagged a large door/ side panel (?) in a black color for $3.50 to use as a protective extra counter on top of the sink vanity. The new counter also keeps the microwave from falling into the sink, we just assumed that the giagantor microwave would cover the smaller sink completely and it does... but almost doesn't. Which leaves the potential for a microwave-in-the-sink disaster at threat level red. We also didn't realize this until after the sink counter was glued down. Hence the new topper counter top!</p><p><br /></p><p>Sink Vanity turned Microwave Cabinet: $99</p><p>Appliance Spray Paint- $6</p><p>Ikea Counter- $3.50</p><p>We're really happy with the new microwave cabinet, it fits in with our whole modernization effort of the beach house perfectly!<br /></p><p><a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2342/5792506706_d05c35075e.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 375px; display: block; height: 500px;" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2342/5792506706_d05c35075e.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div></div></div>behind the fourth doorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01379368285379734705noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8153443547899620624.post-48102028852986087672011-06-06T11:23:00.002-04:002011-06-06T11:29:21.477-04:00Opperation Staircase- Completed!<a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2342/5792506706_d05c35075e.jpg"></a><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div>All throughout the month of May we had a deadline looming with the approaching Memorial Day holiday. That unofficial kick off of summer meant our beach condo rental season of the beach condo was gearing up to take off. Call me crazy, but I think our renters would be expecting stairs in a two floor condo. Which meant we had to find the time in the jam packed month to rock out the final steps to finishing up the stairs and hallway. </div><br /><br /><div><br />Desperate to not have a repeat of last years ridiculously stressful final project wrap up and pre-season cleaning, we made a realistic time line of what tasks were left. Being honest with ourselves and how much actual work was left made all the difference this year! Instead of stuffing everything into one workfest of a weekend we decided to stretch the time and break our project list into two weekends. </div><br /><br /><br /><div>The To-Do list looked something like this:</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>- Install steps<br /></div><br /><br /><div>- Poly and silica coat steps</div><br /><br /><div>-Install handrail</div><br /><br /><div>- Switch out Microwave cabinet</div><br /><br /><div>-Paint "new" media cabinet</div><br /><br /><div>- Hang wall art</div><br /><br /><div>- Uber deep clean</div><br /><br /><div>- Pack up all "our stuff" and put rental items out</div><br /><br /><div>- Get burned on beach</div><br /><br /><br /><div>In case you don't remember, we decided to make our winter/spring project in the beach condo the staircase and hallway. The staircase was a beat up blue carpeted nightmare topped with a plastic tube as a handrail. Ever since we replaced the hallway/upstairs landing blue carpet with the same laminate wood flooring as downstairs it wasn't a huge project to freshen up the space, but one that was really needed! </div><br /><br /><div><br /><br />Where did I leave off with the stairs...ah yes. I was pissing and moaning about staining the wood steps and how despite my best efforts I couldn't get the stain to absorb evenly. Sigh. Such is a nature of pine and light stains, you can apparently condition the wood all you want but it will still absorb the stain with varying degree. Either that or I just plain suck at one the easiest diy tasks one can do. The great news is that after applying three coats of brush on poly the steps looked 75% than they did when simply stained. Perfectly acceptable for something that is only going to get stepped on IMO.</div><br /><br /><br /><div><br />A big thorn in our sides during this project was wtf to do for the handrail. We checked out every single availible option and debated at length about what to do. Finally, it got down to two weeks left before Memorial day and we needed to pull the trigger on something. As luck would have it, we drive right by the showroom and warehouse of one of the biggest suppliers of sprial staircases in the USA on our way to work. We stopped in on way home and talked to a super nice sales guy about our options. At first he showed us this gorgous custom oak banister that I was drooling over, but it was $900. So I kindly cut the sales chase and said "That's gorgeous, but we're looking for something much more economical and in the DIY range. What do you offer?"</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>Which is how we ended up with a $300 brushed stainless coil in the back of our car as we pulled away 20 minutes later. It was the cheapest option that looked the best and that we could DIY. A black factory powder coat was availible for an extra $150, which I would have loved to get but could not justify opening the wallet even further for. Even though the railing was way more than we wanted to spend it <strong>was</strong> justifiable in the fact that we could not find a-n-y-t-h-i-n-g else that work. And rather than continually spend money here and there for experimental items we bit the bullet and bought the item for full blown retail. </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>Then, by the end of the weekend we had this:</div><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 375px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 500px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5066/5791956405_77ef6af740.jpg" /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2030/5791950095_0509ddb07b.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 375px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 500px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2030/5791950095_0509ddb07b.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2342/5792506706_d05c35075e.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 375px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 500px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2342/5792506706_d05c35075e.jpg" /></a><br />The stairs are complete and I LOVE THEM.</div><br /><em>Want to see what we started with? Check out the first post of Opperation Staircase </em><a href="http://thefourthdoor.blogspot.com/2011/02/operation-staircase.html#comments"><em>HERE</em></a>.<br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div>behind the fourth doorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01379368285379734705noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8153443547899620624.post-9670183316532780392011-05-25T12:09:00.003-04:002011-05-25T17:36:52.917-04:00Skeeto UpdateTo follow up on my plea for mosquito advice here are the updates:<br /><br />- <strong>a bat house is no <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">beauno</span></span></strong>. Pete has put the ix-nay on that considering we back to woods with "natural" bat houses. It is true, we see plenty of bats playing in the evening air around our properties so no real need to attract more.<br /><br />- <strong>fabric softener sheets</strong>= may help a bit. Last night I went out to work on my garden at dusk after work, and besides wearing leggings and high boots, I coated myself in Off and stuck fabric softener sheet around my person. One at the top of each boot and another in my ponytail. All bites <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">received</span> last night were on my lower back and upper thighs. I witnessed the bugs wanting (I could just tell they wanted to) to bite my knees and shins but ultimately steering clear of that area. No telling in how many sheets of fabric softener are needed for full body protection.<br /><br />I'm wary of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">eating</span> the raw garlic clove at day trick. Supposedly it makes you smell bad to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">mosquitoes</span></span>, but I've tried it before for other health reasons and consuming raw garlic daily makes you smell bad in general. Garlic smell wafting outta your pores on the regular does not make you any friends. Unless you don't want friends. Then I highly <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">recommend</span> you swallow crushed raw garlic cloves with honey everyday before breakfast. Everyone will steer very clear, humans and bugs alike.behind the fourth doorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01379368285379734705noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8153443547899620624.post-73460681988714739112011-05-23T09:43:00.003-04:002011-05-23T09:59:17.607-04:00tiny little nest...<a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5070/5702828547_a2e92bfb3e.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 500px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 375px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5070/5702828547_a2e92bfb3e.jpg" /></a> Isn't this just the funniest little thing? Any ideas as to what it could be?<br /><br />If you guessed a wee hornet nest you'd be right. This 1" mini city in the clouds was inside my (quite rusty) wheelbarrow. Sucks for the hornets, but I had to destroy the tiny nest being as how I<strong> a)</strong> hate hornets <strong>b)</strong> I had to use the wheelbarrow for an actual purpose and<strong> c) </strong>am not in the business of hornet farming.<br /><br />Quite a difference in size when you compare this to the <a href="http://thefourthdoor.blogspot.com/2009/08/buzz-buzz-buzz.html">bee hive I found inside the Wee house</a> while tearing out walls...behind the fourth doorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01379368285379734705noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8153443547899620624.post-40154053919998298492011-05-19T13:32:00.001-04:002011-05-19T13:35:24.266-04:00Dead Snake. Live Tree Planting.<div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><strong>Problem:</strong> You have a mondo sized pile of dirt in your yard.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div><strong>Issue:</strong> That dirt needs to level out a lot of yard square footage.</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><strong>Final pickle:</strong> The task would break your back and cause a certain wife named me to stop talking to her husband after about hour 10 if done by hand with shovels and wheelbarrows. Potential for quite from jabber mouth wife- almost worth the sore muscles.</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><strong>Solution:</strong> Ask brother in law if he would mind lending you his tractor for the job. </div><br /><br /><div>pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease<br /><br /></div><br /><br /><div>This all how we ended up with a kick ass tractor for a week to help us with getting the fill dirt spread to grade the land around the garage. All in all, the tractor was heavenly! It was such a workhorse and I think I'm in love. Not even kidding, I broached the topic of starting our search for one about two hours into using the borrow tractor. The thing just rocks. Buying one is not in the cards now, but maybe in the future, once we actually live in the Wee house, we'll be parking a tractor in our ginormous garage. </div><br /><br /><br /><div><br /></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 500px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 375px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3201/5702799797_978c8508e3.jpg" /><br />We also took advantage of the tractor by using to help us plant our long talked about willow tree. One of our long term landscaping goals was also to grow a weeping willow tree in the back of the back yard by the stream. The area is the perfect spot for planting a willow, they love being near a water source, lots of sun and should be kept father from structures with foundations since the root system can be extensive. </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>So why did we decide to go for the willow tree now? Time! Simply put, time is on our side with the house. When we do move into the house, <span style="font-size:85%;">in about a decade...,</span> the tree will have had the necessary time to get established a little bit. In our personal experience with planting trees it takes about two years for the tree to get over the shock of transplanting and start to flourish. We did splurge for one older bigger tree at a nursery, and then trimmed the budget a bit by grabbing the glorified twig version from a big box store for much cheaper. </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>The older tree weighed a damn ton! Never under estimate how much a balled tree weighs people! It may look manageable, but I can assure they are quite the load. We learned that the hard way with our first married Christmas tree, a balled blue spruce that now is thriving in the Wee house yard. It just about killed our arm muscles to make that happen for a not quite four foot tree.<br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3094/3172043071_c0f1b74911.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 500px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 375px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3094/3172043071_c0f1b74911.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>Using the tractor we were about to get the two willow trees and all of the necessary tree planting equipment- plus my super pale self - into the back yard with ease. Other tree planting equipment is a rake, shovel and brick of peat moss. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 500px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 375px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2660/5703388092_871abc7d1c.jpg" /></div><br /><br /><div>Funny thing about pictures is that while I look calm and smiley, the inside of me was gagging and trying not to look at the dead snake that Pete just beheaded which is just outside the frame of the shot. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>As we rode the tractor to the backyard I had to hop off to grab my camera, right after I dismounted I saw the snake slithering away from the old shed. holymolyomg. I don't do slithery things. Screaming, <em>and you better believe this former teeny bopper from jersey has a set of lungs on her</em>, I ran back to the tractor and stood on top of it while freaking out. I grabbed the shovel, thrust it towards Pete screaming <strong>KILL IT</strong>. Poor guy didn't really have much choice in the matter what with his wife acting like a lunatic and all, he went ahead with beheading the snake. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>Could we have let the snake live, yes. It wasn't going to do much to me besides give me a few (more) gray hairs if I ran into it again but I was freaked out and I don't respond well in situations like that andplusalso I flipping hate snakes. Afterwards I kept calling Pete Neville, which he didn't get at all because Deathly Hallows Pt.2 hasn't gotten released yet and he's never read the books. (Anyone else super excited for that scene? It's one of my favorites)</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>After the snake was dead we went on to the back yard to plant the trees. Planting trees in our yard is super easy since we don't have any bedrock laying just under our top soil. First you dig a big ass hole. We always aim for a hole twice the size of the root ball, and for the bigger tree the tractor did most of the digging. Then, you back fill the hole with a bit of the dirt and add some peat moss. Eyeball the amount to be even and enough that when you put the tree in the hole, it won't be completely buried. Trees are not tomatoes and should not be deeply buried when planting. We aim to get the root ball even or just above the ground. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 500px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 375px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3287/5702820813_fa3b7778df.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 500px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 375px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2307/5703391994_57f2c97b33.jpg" /></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>Once the tree is in at the right level, put the rest of the leftover soil back. Water the crap out of the tree for a long time and don't be surprised if you don't see any growth or improvement right away. Trees take time to get established and over the shock of transplanting. At this point you stand back and admire the tree. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5022/5703396074_e8dae336f8.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 500px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 375px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5022/5703396074_e8dae336f8.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div>behind the fourth doorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01379368285379734705noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8153443547899620624.post-90114261269980052442011-05-13T14:43:00.000-04:002011-05-13T14:43:00.895-04:00Plea for skeeter advice!<a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2434/3930458280_20c2ed85e5.jpg"></a><br />This weekend I told Pete that I'm pretty sure mosquitoes subscribe to a newsletter that clues them in on my location, if there is one lonely bug in a zip code then it will find me. Or if there are 50 million, they will all find me for feasting on. Just me. I can be right next a group of people and no one else will walk away with bites. Something about my A+ blood makes their tiny little insect hearts sing with happiness.<br /><br /><br /><br />The bites cause a major reaction on me as well, they get all puffy and itch like hell for days. Especially compared to Pete, who usually gets a bump that is gone in two days. I also don't usually stop scratching until I start bleeding and a teeny bit beyond that point. Which all makes for some (not very)attractive legs in the summer...<br /><br />Part of me really wants to include a picture of my legs just so you can all see I'm not being a drama queen. My legs get tore up in the summer because of bugs. the other part of me doesn't want to gross out my readers with legs that look like they've laid down in an ants nest covered in honey.<br /><br />I digress.<br /><br />The point of all this is to ask for help. I would like to spend my 28th summer not looking like I bug bitten mess. For once I don't want to have to wear pants in august because the bites look like my lower legs have been attacked by some ravenous beast, and I don't want to have to go through a box of band-aids a week trying to make the bites heal without scars.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Please, give me any tricks you know of to get the skeeters away. I'll do and try them all. <strong>Anything</strong> from skin so soft to pure deet to eat <em>three cloves of garlic a day</em> is welcome advice. Has anyone had luck with lawn treatments? I currently coat myself in Off before leaving the house and multiple times a day when working outside. But I still get bites. Lots of bites. Including one under my eye that makes me look like I've been rumbling in alleys with dancing gang members that carry switch-blades.<br /><br /><br />Thank you.behind the fourth doorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01379368285379734705noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8153443547899620624.post-90135060216316328782011-05-11T11:27:00.000-04:002011-05-13T16:43:05.623-04:00Clearing the yard...<div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Here is where I could go on and on and on about cleaning up the rest of the yard. But endless talking about yard work is really boring when I get down into the writing out the details. There isn't much of a method to clearing a yard either, so don't let anyone fool you into thinking there is. Pick a starting point and just work until it looks better. That method works for both big and small efforts. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3296/5702779467_c26155d0ed.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 375px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 500px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3296/5702779467_c26155d0ed.jpg" /></a> Side yard waiting for clean -up.</div><br /><div><br /><br /><div><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5021/5703352838_1eb52c3efb.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 500px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 375px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5021/5703352838_1eb52c3efb.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div>We tackled the side yard, which was a mess of overgrown trees, creeping vines, cinder block and tree parts like roots and limbs. Since I'm a little bit more than scared of snakes I had this genius idea to beat the piss out of the piles/ground with a branch before going in to grab stuff. Smart eh? Scare any potential slithery things away! I'm pretty sure it worked since I didn't see any...on Saturday..</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>As the sun beat down on us, we worked on clearning everything up and piling it on the patio holding area. Cement in one pile, organic in another and random construction lumber in the final pile. There wasn't enough time to get to the dump, so everything sits waiting for this weekend when we're going to be taking at least one trip over to the county dump.</div><br /><br /><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 500px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 375px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2127/5702795803_0c0820b7aa.jpg" /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2153/5703362220_f84ac49425.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 500px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 375px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2153/5703362220_f84ac49425.jpg" /></a> Our patio looks like it belongs with a crack house. I can't wait to tear that slab up and the lean-to down.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div>behind the fourth doorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01379368285379734705noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8153443547899620624.post-6100140478487344892011-05-10T23:26:00.001-04:002011-05-10T11:29:38.495-04:00Cleaning up Concrete<div><br /><div><br /><br /><div>Right after the dirt got delivered, we hit the Wawa for breakfast and my coffee. The call for the dirt delivery came much earlier than we anticipated, so getting out of the door fast was in order for us to get over to the Wee house with a certain amount of quickness. That speedy exit meant that I didn't get a chance to brew my needed morning coffee at home.</div><br /><br /><br /><div>I love that about South Jersey, you're never far from a Wawa :)</div><br /><br /><br /><div>After chowing down and caffeinating in the back yard we got down to the second order of business for the morning, cleaning up all our random concrete piles around the yard. Some from the removal of the old "garage" foundation, others from the construction of our new garage and then the odd ball piles of cement that where littered about the yard. We had a little less than two hours to get the trailer loaded and hustle our butts over to the recycle center. In theory 120 minutes sounds like a decent amount of time, but when it is reference to unearthing and moving concrete- it is not nearly enough time.<br /></div><br /><div>We worked out a pretty great method of attack of the topsoil and concrete pile. I took one side with a bevy of buckets and one of my crowbars for poking into the dirt and pulling out the big slabs. Pete hit up the other side with a metal rake and the tractor cart to help us move the larger bits and full buckets up to the front yard. </div><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2203/5703353964_e7355eb048.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 375px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 500px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2203/5703353964_e7355eb048.jpg" /></a><br />The pile afterward the massive pick through, see the post from yesterday for the before shot.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div>Being mindful of the clock and how much weight our poor SUV can handle towing, we had to call it quits on loading the concrete around 11 and hightail it outta there to get the recycle center before they close the gates for the day. We got there 5 minutes prior to last call and 35 minutes before closing time. </div><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 500px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 375px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3547/5702771681_57db303b05.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 500px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 375px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3023/5702773477_7b4a6b0681.jpg" /> </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Once again, and certainly not for the last time, we found ourselves under the high tension wires unceremoniously chucking cement and cinder blocks into a giant pile of rubble. To avoid hitting the other with an errant throw to the pile we work on different sides of the trailer. </div><br /><div><br />It took us 13 minutes to clear the trailer. Boom. Done.<br /></div><br /><div>The best part, all the disposal is freeeeeeeee and gets recycled. At the county dump we would have had to pay and everything would have ended up in the landfills. I love this place, I just wish they would take my wallpapered plaster walls. </div></div></div>behind the fourth doorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01379368285379734705noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8153443547899620624.post-33420384105743321132011-05-09T09:46:00.005-04:002011-05-09T14:14:38.394-04:00Fun fact: Dirt is not cheap<div><br /><br /><br /><div>I have sunburn on my back, bug bites on my neck, blisters on my palms, several broken fingernails and a bruised forearm. All that adds up to one really long weekend working outside on the Wee house. It really felt good to get back to business on the house, and busting out these long weekends of hard work. There is much to talk about, including the story of how Pete killed snake with a shovel. But that and other stories will come at a later time.</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>Despite the fact that the house is half gutted and the garage isn't completed, we decided to spend this weekend focusing on improving the yard a bit. No massive landscape effort to turn it into paradise, but we really needed to clean up the yard like woah. There were pockets of really overgrown jungle vines, random bits of the old garage's cement foundation piled up and cinder blocks scattered about. It just wasn't pretty and if we let everything to continue to grow with wild abandon over the summer it would be much harder to handle in the fall. </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5069/5703326778_58667756db.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 375px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 500px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5069/5703326778_58667756db.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div>A major part of the weekend for us was going to be getting some fill dirt delivered and then working on grading the land around the garage/our driveway and side yard areas. The "natural" flow that our yard had before was disturbed by the new garage, and we really needed to boost the dirt up around the building. At first we started getting quotes on how much a load of topsoil would be, thinking that it better to just use that because of it's ability to grow grass and fill in low spots of land. However, the prices we were getting just put top soil out of our budget- it was about $22- 27$ per yard, we needed 18 yards and every single place was charging extra high delivery fees thanks to the current hefty price of diesel fuel. Then we found the price sheet for Winzingers, our trusty free concrete recycling center, and topsoil there was only $15 a yard, BUT fill dirt was only $5 a yard. Plus the insanely high cost to get it delivered, which was more than the actual dirt. </div><br /><br /><div></div></div><br /><br /><div>Our poor neighbors had to deal with this as their wake-up call on Saturday morning. I felt like a jerk for disturbing the neighbor calm with a dump load of dirt at that early hour.<br /><br /></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 500px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 375px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3502/5703338470_4d21542fcb.jpg" /><br /><br /><br /><div>The total still ended up being freakishly high for just dirt, but the final bill was a lot easier on our wallets with the fill option. Although, these prices really help to change the old adage of "cheaper than dirt", cause dirt is not cheap anymore. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>We'll get a small load of topsoil in the fall and use that as a thin frosting layer for the grass seed something to grab onto. So what if we had to pick part of a curb and asphalt out of the pile, the fill dirt was going to serve it's purpose of filling in the low spots...</div></div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 500px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 375px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5302/5703865556_8e155228b9.jpg" /><br />The dirt delivery was just the kick off of our hard working weekend! Anyone else accomplish a ton during this past weekend? Or did you get to enjoy fabulous weather without having cheap dirt stuck to the sweat that was all over your body?<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3502/5703338470_4d21542fcb.jpg"></a></div>behind the fourth doorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01379368285379734705noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8153443547899620624.post-955782180085444072011-05-03T10:07:00.000-04:002011-05-03T10:10:04.173-04:00no go on plaster disposal plansWhen we took our leftover cement and cinder block to the recycle center we also brought along a bucket of plaster with us. The point was to ask the center if they would accept the plaster for recycling for free. If they did take it, that would save us bundle of cash on the county dump fees where you are charged by weight. Plaster is heavy y'all.<br /><br /><br /><br />Good news: They'll take it.<br /><br /><br />Bad news: They won't take it if it has wallpaper attached.<br /><br /><br />Dream Killing News: Every inch of our house has wallpaper on top of the plaster.<br /><br /><br /><br />For about five minutes I debated how practical it would be to scrape off a century's worth of wallpaper from all remaining plaster surfaces of our house before demoing the plaster for recycling. Then I remembered- our old wallpaper seemed to be put up with a permanent sticking charm. No amount of warm vinegar/fabric softener water will loosen the wallpaper's death grip on our walls and this delusional plan of mine shouldn't even be attempted.<br /><br /><br />So we're back to square one when it comes time demo the rest of our walls. Buckets and paying for the county dump. Fun times.behind the fourth doorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01379368285379734705noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8153443547899620624.post-50556808364782133342011-05-02T11:44:00.001-04:002011-05-02T13:06:28.146-04:00Saving money to lose it<span style="color:#c0c0c0;"></span><br /><br />This year Pete and I have been focusing on lowering our financial output. Which is a fancy pants way of saying we've busy been searching out ways to save our dollars. You always read advice in how to save that has you watching the nickles and dimes, but we decided to attack with the big guns and go after a few ginormous bills that where making our checkbooks weep.<br /><br />Besides, I already brew my morning cup of coffee at home and forgo the fancy afternoon lattes.<br /><br /><br />First up was the home insurance on the Wee house. Do you have any idea how much coverage on a vacant property that is in the midst renovation costs? It is mind-blowingly expensive. When when we got the coverage it was hard to find someone who would even write the policy for us.<br /><br /><em>What? You don't want to insure this hot mess of a house that is sitting empty and gutted? I can't even imagine why...</em><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2543/3832772067_b5c18d36cc.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 500px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 375px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2543/3832772067_b5c18d36cc.jpg" /></a><br /><br />A few months ago, Pete's parents found themselves with an empty house that they needed to insure. They got refered to a company that writes vacant property policies and the quote came in way less than what we were paying. Call us flabbergasted. We raced to the phone and inquired about a policy for ourselves. Turns out, we could get the same coverage we have now ( we have a few riders on our policy for injury because of the reno's ) through them for about $1,500 less than our current payment. Yeah...That is comma in our savings amount.<br /><br /><br />Needless to say, we switched insurance and are super happy to put that money into the garage and renovations instead.<br /><br />Next up was our Wtown taxes. New Jersey has notoriously high property taxes. It is a fact of life for living in the Garden State and the price we all pay for being with a 30 minute drive to mall or Target at any location in the state. Way back in 2007, when the market was still *hot*, our entire town got reassessed on the home values and after that reassessment our property taxes <strong>doubled</strong>. Which was not so awesome.<br /><br /><br />Last year we failed to sell our house for something very close to the assessed value. (Also not awesome). Which led us to believe something along the lines of " Hey. The town is wrong. We can't sell our house for this much, so it can't be worth X amount." So this tax year, we filed for the lowering of our property assessment, which would lower our property taxes.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p>The whole petitioning process cost us $5 and about an hours worth of time in filling out forms. We asked for an insanely low amount, but it was also the price that we honestly think that our house could possibly sell for if we needed to unload it asap. So there was some justification in our minds for the price point we choose. The adjuster called us, and basically was like " um, how are you asking for this price? There is no way you're house could be worth this little when compared to the comps."</p><br /><br /><p>Ahhh we beg to differ...</p><br /><br /><p>None of those other comps have a train running next to their house. And despite all the appraisers, property assessors, real estate agents and mortgage lenders we've had out to the house- not one person can give us a nailed down price on how much the train hurts the value of our home. </p><br /><br /><p>We met with the lovely lady who came by to inspect the digs, there was home tour conducted of casa and property. She sat down with us and agreed with our appeal. Not quite for the rock bottom price we proposed, but that was a long shot anyway. We reached a happy middle number and signed off on the OK. The new taxable assessment is about 12.5k lower than the previous amount and brings our taxes down a sweet couple hundred a year.</p><br /><br /><p>Despite the fact that it means our house has lost value (uh-duh) I'm still filing this whole tax appeal process as #winning. </p><br /><br /><p>Did I mention that we got notice that our college rental property taxes are going up? Oh, I haven't? Well that is long story for another time, but in the shortest summary: Taxes are going up the exact amount we just saved between the insurance and appeal.</p><br /><br /><p>#taxesareforsuckers<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></p>behind the fourth doorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01379368285379734705noreply@blogger.com0