Friday, November 02, 2007

A place to land

Sunday I received a call from Holly who had decided we should at least take a look at 318 Morton Street, a property I had found a week earlier and we had scoped out at bit. She had it on good authority that we could get it for a real steal.

I thought the property had some potential, that we could live in it and fix it up. It wasn’t anything we would want to stay in a long time, it would be a good one to turn into a good rental versus the craptastic rental it had been, or to flip it and move onto another house. TGF was not convinced and Holly really wanted to see us in a better location. This particular block was mostly rentals, low end ones at that. The house to the right was so close my wingspan (remember I’m short) could touch both properties and it was a rental duplex with loud music pumping on a Sunday afternoon.

Holly was really excited by Rehabarama and wanted to show us some of the houses. We finally met the infamous Teresa Gaspar who was working on Little Bradford as the house had been nicknamed. This place was so freaking cute that if it was just me I would have moved right in. They had done a great job renovating this place. We also went to the big house on Johnson which had us ohhing and ahhing at every turn. Holly continued to introduce us as new South Park residents that just hadn’t found a home yet and quizzed everyone for ideas. We also met her husband, Michael, the other large force of nature working on putting South Park on the map. Since TGF’s wasn’t going to start work the next day as we had thought earlier in the week, she offered her services to help get this particular house ready as it was the most behind schedule.

That day I spoke again with Karin and made arrangements for the next day to see a duplex and a rental she had open. The duplex had been bought sight unseen and was a defensive move as it had been a horrible rental property and it backed up to her house. She and her husband had done nothing to it yet so she would be willing to sell it for what they paid for it in July - $22,000. The rental was one half of a duplex that they hadn’t done much too – a long term tenant had just moved out.

Late that night my phone rang and I saw it was my mother. I figured she forget that I was no longer three hours behind her but still it was very late her time so I picked it up. My father was in the hospital because he had collapsed –something with his heart. I no longer remember how she was contacted (they have been divorced for eons) but she told whoever it was that she would tell me. His heart wasn’t pumping right and he would need a pacemaker.

Monday morning TGF left to paint and stain while I puttered around the motel room. I tell you this place seemed like a luxury hotel after Cave 6. Even TGF who is rather, ahem, princess-like expectations about such accommodations was pleased. The phrase “how the mighty have fallen” may have been tossed about.

It was pretty early but I called the hospital to check on my father. The nurse I spoke to said he was stable and would be heading to surgery in a few hours. Though it was still early I called his girlfriend and heard the whole saga. Being outside seemed like a good idea so I took the dog for a walk. When I came back the mess bothered me so I straightened up the room. The time passed rather quickly and soon it was time to meet Karin and TGF to see about some housing. The duplex for sale, well, it was barely habitable and had no charm about it anywhere. The other one however was charming. Not only was the rent a great deal (and I mean GREAT!) but she offered that if we (read me) were willing to do the cosmetic repairs and such, the labor would be subtracted from the rent. It took all my self control not throw money at her and move in that day. We kept our cool and said we would get back to her. For me it was a no brainer, our funds were quickly disappearing and this was a score of high order. The place came with a stove, fridge, dishwasher, washer and dryer. It had a bath and a half – talk about luxury! Okay sure the half bath was also the laundry room, had the trap door to the basement in it and was the back door to the unit but damn it had two toilets! I had that once for about 1 year as an adult, a second toilet. Freaking lap of luxury for me.

(I received word from various parties that surgery had gone well.)

TGF worked again the next two days helping get that house in order for Rehabarama. On Wednesday I called Karin and said, as calmly as possibly, “we would love to rent your unit”. Also on Wednesday I went over to Books & Co to try to apply for a job. Apparently they only do online applications so I browsed the magazine racks (yes I bought a knitting magazine or two, I couldn't help it, I swear). I was assured once again that I was no longer in Kansas when I noticed there was a whole section of periodicals under the heading of “Guns”.

Thursday we signed the lease and I called utilities to get things in our name. We brought some boxes over which I quickly unpacked as much as I could. TGF contacted her mother about hiring the movers again and we tried for the soonest date possible to move in. In the end the move in date was set for Wednesday. Not as fast as I would have like but it made her feel better since she would be in Indiana at corporate training from Sunday evening until Wednesday afternoon. Just a few more days of motel life!

3 comments:

heather said...

hey, guns and knitting do not have to be separate but equal. knit a gun rack. you will be the envy of all your neighbors.

congrats on finally getting a place, and glad to hear your dad's doing alright.

Jbeeky said...

I am glad you found a place! Pictures! Pictures!
I hope your Dad is OK. My father had a pacemaker "installed" a few years back.

wen said...

i'm so glad it's working out for you and tgf! :) how are all the furry ones doing during this time of motel living?

and i remember when we moved to ohio. the sunday paper had a circular for guns. from k-mart. alas, my visiting east coast relatives were a bit freaked out when that fell out on the floor at breakfast. (our family had gotten used to it.)