The Timeline (for those of you who need a scorecard..)

To all friends (Facebook and real-time) and relations who have endured the constant back and forth of my posts this year...thank you. The end of all this kerfuffling and despairing and recovery and backtracking and paper-shuffling and scanning and signing...is nigh. So--here it is: the tentative timeline for where we are and will be for the near future (with annotations):

From last May till this point: We have had a room added to the San Diego house--which leaves us now with a fully furnished 2 bedrooms, a wonderful little library and a new, more open feel in the house. The house has been repainted inside, a tankless hot water heater installed, and new lighting put in for the library. We have replaced a garage roof, a garage door, blinds in LR and bedrooms, a new floor and blinds in the office behind the garage. We have had our DR table refinished, our hunt board repaired, a new fence put in, bougainvilleas drastically pruned back (except for one that, for unknown reasons, the garden people spared), trellises reinforced and straightened, and the back yard re-aligned with pavers taken up and a new walkway installed. We are waiting on a new design and plantings. Also waiting on a new roof for the house (see below) due to an unexpectedly wet winter here that produced some serious leaks in two rooms. And now....

March 31: Fly back to Alexandria from San Diego (sigh) leaving behind only a few unfinished projects, namely a new roof for the house (under contract) and a re-do of our yard., and a closet installation to be done when we return.

[500 S Fairfax is sold, but we are renting back--as part of the contract--till June, so will be living there till the new house is vacated by the sellers, who are renting back from US.]

April 3: Walk-through of the new house--121 Madison Place--in Old Town. A bit north of King St, and a block closer to the river. Think 'near the Sport and Health club'. Measuring tape and rug and furniture placement brain-mode at the ready.

April 7: Meet with move estimator to get price and schedule a firm date for our move.

April 15: Tentative move-out date for the folks at 121 Madison Place...subject to change.

April 15 thru May 9: Total chaos of packing, changing utilities, address changes for every possible contact known to man, including all magazines and newspapers, cleaning, donations, trips to the dump, disposal of books (yikes), renewing commitments to Folger, Library of Congress, Map Society, and scheduling doctor and dentist and assorted appointments therewith. Additionally, seeing friends who we have sadly neglected while in CA,  Also, arranging move, reserving parking for moving van, getting new parking stickers, rug cleaning, arranging for removal and rebuilding of Murphy bed, removal and rebuilding of map cabinet, repairs at new house (as needed), possible painting (ditto), repairs as needed at 500 South before turnover, self-moving of fragile items, cleaning of new place, shelf-lining in kitchen, establishing HVAC maintenance agreement...and (as they say on TV) 'but that's not all...'

May 10: Tentative date for move. It may go earlier or later, depending on some or all of the above.

May 10 onward: Same chaos, only in reverse. Sort of the Ginger Rogers quote.."backward and in high heels".

May 23: My own personal deadline for being moved in and totally unpacked. Followed by a well-earned trip to NY to see 'War Paint' and the revival of 'Hello Dolly!' with Bette Midler.

June 1: More realistic deadline for being moved in and totally restored to normal life.

July 3: Kay and family arrive for a week-long visit!!!

And then, there follows a weekend in late July at the Contemporary American Theater Festival in Shepherdstown, WVA, a week at Chautauqua in early August...and THEN....

Back to San Diego. And, believe it or not, the end of the year from hell, March 15, 2016 to mid-August, 2017. Normal life? What's that?

You realize, I have left out all the everyday errands, the hours and events at the Folger, the movies, the dinners, the cooking and cleaning and daily maintenance, both personal and domestic, the driving,  the meetings, the lunches..well, the LIVING that we do in between all of these events.

All in all, it looks like a busy summer. But...we're still standing. Maybe propped up a little, or leaning to one side, but standing, nevertheless.

Home Stretch

It looks like it might just happen. I have crossed all fingers and toes, have not canceled my email subscription to realtor.com (just in case that might be interpreted as excessive confidence), have not canceled our homeowners’ insurance and replaced it with renters’ insurance, have not given out our potential new address, or even had change of address cards printed. It hasn’t happened yet. The papers are not signed and in my possession, and therefore it has not—in my mind, at least-- happened yet.

Maybe it is just that we are not on the spot watching it all progress; or maybe it’s just that we have had so many glitches along the way that they seemed (at times) insurmountable. I have never been so close to walking away from a sale or purchase in our 40+ years of selling and purchasing. It has been a grindingly long process from last March’s optimistic schedule to this March’s weary agreements and addendums. But it looks like it might just happen. Finally.

Today our buyers are signing the papers and the money is changing hands. Not into OUR hands, of course, but into the hands of the next closer of the next deal, with our name and loan number written on the tag. I’m not sure we will even see any money, other than numbers on a HUD sheet (or ‘closing document’ as they are apparently now called), where the proceeds from our sale are balanced against our obligations for the purchase, and found to be approximately equal. Funny how that works.

In any event, if the papers today are shuffled just right, and the papers two days from now are likewise stacked and shuffled, we will give up one set of keys for another, rent back for a month or two, and start arranging a move for the month of May. I can file all the emails and texts and documents and information and addresses that have decorated my laptop for far too long. I can move on to more decisions, more scheduling, more accommodations. The lady at City Hall who arranges moving van permits has probably not forgotten my name, and I bet I can remember how to pack china.  I suppose I should be nostalgic, but I’m not. I’m simply ready to move on.

Nine Circles

Dante,  in his master work "The Inferno", proposed nine circles of hell. I forget exactly what the names and conditions of those divisions were, but I can be fairly sure that they are replicated in the world of real estate transactions, and might even be amplified by current technology.

Let me stipulate from the start that we (beginning in March of 2016) initiated a ridiculous trifecta in realty world: we contracted for, and were keeping tabs on, an addition to one house in California; we were preparing for the sale of another house in Virginia--and launching it on the market after serious decluttering; and we were shopping for yet another house in Alexandria in our spare time. Add to that that these efforts were all linked in time and sequence in a variety of ways--involving financial considerations, timelines, and our locations-- and you have the realty equivalent of a bicoastal 15 puzzle, with a few storage spaces thrown in to make things a bit more complex.

We are nearing the end of this nightmare of a year. The addition to the San Diego house is complete, and we are currently mopping up details, like a re-do of our back yard and decisions as to where pictures and maps will hang. The Virginia house is under contract, after several repair issues and and things look good for a final closing in the next week. We put in a contract on another house, and that closing is within 15 days, if all goes well. There will no doubt be some additional wrinkles making their appearance before all is said and done--as both sales involve rent-backs. BUT, I am hopeful that we have descended into the ninth circle and are gradually working our way back up again to our normal state of existence. In other words, once you hit bottom, the only way left to go is up.

I will not bore you with the ins and outs and ups and downs of construction, sale, or purchase. Let me simply throw out in this paragraph a short--and unfortunately, incomplete--list of things we did, some of which went wrong in semi-spectacular ways.

1. Moves to storage spaces on the west and east coasts (arranging a storage space, scheduling movers to remove excess stuff to make room for furniture from back east--or removing stuff from east coast house to ready it for sale)
2. A move of some stuff from the east coast (and keeping track of where the truck is)
3. Finding, ordering, waiting for delivery of rugs in the west--then laying them!
4. Deciding where things go on each coast: what goes west, what stays east, what gets donated, what gets disposed of.
5. Emptying the room behind the (San Diego) garage so that it might be refurbished.
6. Shop for, order, measure, wait for delivery, prep the room and install flooring in that room
7. Replace the (San Diego) garage roof (not planned, but necessitated by big leak.)
8. Replace the gutter and downspout on the garage (still working on that one)
9. Revamp garden; tear up pavers, install concrete walkway (in progress)
10. Get broken leg on hunt board repaired and returned and placed.
11. Have dining room table refinished. (Beautiful. Our big success story.)
12. Replace blinds in front of house and in garage room.
13. Hang pictures and maps throughout house (in progress)
14. Replace (SD) garage door motor and springs (unplanned, but sort of necessary...)
15. Convert alcove in new room to a closet (shop, choose, measure, order, install) (nope--not done)
16. And at the same time, read, fill out, send, amend, sign, fax, scan, send, text all the paperwork and documents relative to the sale of one house and the purchase of another on the east coast,
17. And--to complicate things further--the buyers' agent is certifiable , which, at one point forced us  to threaten withdrawal from both deals on the basis of four holes in the drywall that will need repair when our Murphy bed is removed. That she insisted we do the day before the walkthrough. While we were in California.

But aside from the sturm und drang of all this, we are emerging, more or less unscathed, with maybe an extra gray hair or two for our efforts. We are hopeful that the subsequent rewards will turn all this into a vague memory--or at least a funny story or two to be told over dinner someday.

Valentine

I know
there should be a heart and an arrow
and a card and some candy--
flowers too, if that would help
convey what I feel.

I know
that most of the time, I am
cranky and impatient
and bossy and annoyed, and
let's not forget 'unreasonable'.

I know
that I am hard to love
at the best of times
and at the worst....well,
let's not go there.

And yet, I know
you have loved me,
made me laugh,
been by my side,
for all these years--

What else can a valentine be,
if not patient, if not kind,
if not faithful, and hopeful,
and enduring, and all the things
you are already?

You have always been the best of me,
my foundation, my comfort,
my home, my heart,
my Valentine.

And now, a brief pause in our programming.

On reflection, it seems as if, in the past few weeks, I have turned off my Washington awareness in favor of household issues. That is true. It is far easier to focus on immediate problems than to look at Washington and try to forecast what the next few years will bring. It's not very useful, but it IS easier on the psyche.

So now, while a lot of personal balls are still in the air on this side of the country, the big ball has dropped in Washington. Donald Trump is the president. There was no last-minute reprieve; it was not a collective bad dream; there is no easy way out. We simply need to endure the embarrassment (and worse) of having an ill-prepared, inarticulate, narcissistic, misogynistic blowhard as our representative on the global stage for the next four years. Hard as it is to digest, this is the bitter pill we have to swallow. Gulp.

What is to be done in a situation where the country has apparently run amok? When Congress appears to be lining up behind this creature and his billionaire boys' club (otherwise known as a cabinet), actually supporting (or at least feigning support) for his off-the-cuff policies. He has so little respect for the American voter that his promises and policies change at his whim, rather than in response to factual information,  He picks and chooses what he wants to believe, and dismisses as 'fake' whatever does not fit his particular reality-of-the-day. What can be done?

The running advice has been to speak up and make the voices of reason be heard; to provide financial support to those organizations that are bound to be most affected by Trump cuts and his conservative Congressional cohorts. Social media calls upon us to be the change we want to see in our world--to be the kinder, gentler people we want to see in the news. What this all brings to mind is something I learned years ago as a child in a Franciscan school and sang at my high school graduation: the blessing of St. Francis...

Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace.

Where there is hatred, let me sow love,

Where there is injury, pardon.  

Where there is doubt, faith--

Where there is despair, hope,

Where there is darkness,light,

Where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek

To be consoled as to console,

To be understood as to understand,

To be loved as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive, 

It is in pardoning that we are pardoned,

It is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

Words to live by, particularly now. Sing it with me.

Superwoman is dead: the next episode

Superwoman is dead. I don't think I realized that until the rugs were delivered and JC and I had to wrestle with rug and pad and placement, not to mention moving furniture to make room. Seriously, every day of this (relatively small) move, I have given thanks that we did not wait to make these moves till we were older. They would never have happened. I reiterate: DO IT NOW if you are thinking about downsizing.

I wish I had been documenting this week, but I have been too busy and too tired. Usually we hit town and launch immediately into what needs to be done because we only have a week or two to get things accomplished. We have done the same this time, and I fear that in mid-February, we will stop, look around, and say, "Now what?" In the past two weeks, we have met and scheduled and packed and unpacked and shopped and stored and hauled and (let's not forget) laid rugs and padding, and given our credit cards friction burns from overuse. We have stepped onto the merry-go-round as it hurtled along, full-tilt, and we're still standing. Barely.

It used to be that this was not that difficult or that exhausting. I remember moves where I faced a family room so full of unloaded boxes that we couldn't step inside the doorway and had to unpack a path to the TV set--using a stepstool to get at the highest boxes. I remember unpacking alone while JC was off on a trip, trying to get everything put away before he got back. And I did it. No more.

BUT...the end is in sight. As always in a move, there are bits of homeless debris here and there that don't belong anywhere. There are things that are in the wrong places and things that cry out for organization. Right now, I'm not listening. It's time for a cup of tea and a cookie, and maybe even a nap.

Notes from the West Coast

Here we are, the first week of 2017, and while the rest of the world (or at least the rest of my world) is cringing at the prospect of the inauguration, we are in not-so-sunny California, dealing with the middle third of our moving trifecta for this year. We are putting the west coast house in order. Which entails rugs and blinds and figuring out where to direct the avalanche of goods coming our way from the east. On Friday.

In this house, we currently have 5 gate-leg tables. Coming with the movers are two standard dining tables, each capable of seating 8 to 10 people. It is apparent from all this that we could hold a sit-down dinner for 40, without even breaking out a card table, or utilizing our kitchen island (which seats four.) We are currently deciding which of these tables will win a trip to our newly-acquired storage space. A difficult choice indeed.

Then there are rugs. We are blessed with hardwood floors throughout, and cursed with the necessity to cover them. One bedroom has carpeting; the living room has an Oriental rug. Which leaves us with the need to order three rugs-- and two runners for the hall. Macy’s January sales are our friend. As is Overstock.com. Of course the rug we want may be out of stock, which complicates the issue. But all will be well. I have faith. If not rugs.

The local movers (we have long since deemed ourselves too old to haul furniture on our own) arrive—on time! And with THREE guys and a truck, instead of the titular TWO. I had tagged most of the stuff to be stored, and they set to work. At the point when they were just about done loading, our yard people arrived, ready to discuss in detail their plans for improving the yard, which (of course) had to have our imprimatur before they could proceed. In the midst of which discussion I got a call from our friend the contractor back east who had kindly agreed to walk through the condo we are considering and render an opinion. As if three conversations at one time were not enough, the moving coordinator texted me at that point about the whereabouts of our truck, which had developed truck trouble in Texas (sounds like a new reality show..) At least the weather is nice.

I would be lying if I said this was all bad. I sort of like pushing furniture around, changing my environment, looking at things from a different perspective. There are always discoveries to be made, and a little shake-up now and then is good for the soul. The San Diego house was furnished piecemeal (as I remember, we opened up the door to our largest storage area and told the mover: take it all..) and now, we are trying to impose some order upon it and make it even more of a home, rather than a place to get away to for a week or two.

So, when the truck-from-Virginia-via Texas pulls up on Friday, it will set in motion the final stage—at least for the San Diego house—unpacking and finding homes for all the books and boxes and woodenware and cut glass and china and the myriad of other stuff packed last spring that have been waiting for transport west. Oh, the adventure of it all!

(to be continued)