October 6, 2023
Greetings from the box capital of south Minneapolis.
We are now legally homeless. Elliott and Martha closed on our house this morning. We own no home and have no place rented. Presumably this situation will only last for two weeks, when we are scheduled to close on our townhouse.
Some might say I'm overthinking and obsessing about this move. They would be right.
I have long maintained that "moving," for reasonably affluent people, is one of the more obnoxious tasks that humanity has devised for itself. In response to a question from a friend about that descriptions, I said I put in the modifier "reasonably affluent" because they're the ones who accumulate "stuff" far beyond their need. Those at the lower end of the income scale typically don't have the means to acquire too much stuff.
As I went merrily bubble wrapping along, it occurred to me that if we never planned to entertain again, we could have gotten rid of a huge amount of bowls, platters, table settings, glasses, and so on. Since we don't intend to become hermits, all of our entertaining accoutrements had to come along with us.
A good friend wrote back, in response to the Annals II:
Your
letter has strengthened my resolve to do one of the following:
1. Die first.
2. If #1 doesn't work, then sell the house to one of those "we buy ugly houses" or "homestead" groups where you take out what you want and they deal with the rest, fix up the house, and sell it.
3. If #3 fails, then I'm going with some group
like Gentle Transitions or Seamless Transitions to help with the move.
Both #2 and #3 cost money... so my major plan is #1!!
Kathy and I both laughed out loud when I read this to her.
Some friends of ours told me that when they make the transition from a house long lived in to the next phase of their lives, it will likely be a seniors community of some sort. Kathy and I decided that we weren't ready, as one friend wrote, to live "amongst a bunch of old people." Someday, probably, but not yet. I hope that when that time comes, we'll recognize and welcome it.
It was difficult for us to find a place, as I mentioned. Part of the reason for that is because we got into the market late in the summer, past the prime selling time. The reason we got into the market late was because of Martha. It was not an easy decision for her. She had hoped that she and Elliott could find a "new" place, all their own, with no history, rather than move into the house that her husband grew up in. We understood completely and urged them to look around to see what they could find. They did so, saw a number of houses, and as they learned what was available for the price they could afford, it became increasingly clear that buying our house was by far the best deal they were going to get. (We gave them a good price.) Elliott knew all along that buying his childhood home was likely going to be the best option for the money but he had to give Martha time and space to reach that same conclusion, as did we. Now she's all in on the deal and they have many plans for painting and rearranging room use and so on. We assured her repeatedly that once they bought it and took possession, it was *their* house and they could do with it whatever they wanted and we would have no criticism. I think that helped her decide. (I should add that we like Martha very much; Elliott made a wonderful choice of a spouse. Of course, so did she 😊)
Kathy and I have painted a few walls in accent colors and I retained the leftover paint. I asked Elliott which of the containers I should leave for them (in case they wanted to touch up nail holes, for example) and which I should take to the local hazardous waste disposal site. He told me to take all the paint away. OK then! We will later visit a house with very different color schemes than the ones we left behind. It will be fun to see what they choose. As we promised Martha, we will offer no criticism.
It's funny, the instinct to collect. I have often said that in another life, I'd be an archivist. I had the instinct early on; I saved things beginning in my teenage years. My grandparents or parents would say they were going to toss something and I'd take it. When we had to clean out houses after a move or a death, I'd be the only one who'd save items. So I ended up with (what I think are) interesting pieces. Nobody else wanted this stuff.
Elliott didn't inherit that instinct to collect. Fortunately (I guess, at least from my standpoint), I think he is slowly coming around to share my view about keeping items that link us to our forebears, so I think he'll retain much of it. Or at least some of it. Martha likes that kind of stuff, too, so she won't let him toss TOO much! I've told him, for example, that he must be one of few people in his generation who has photos of *all* of his great-great-grandparents on one side of his family (mine).
We fancied ourselves competent viewers of places we might consider buying. We weren't. When we walked into and then around the townhouse we are buying, we loved the large open dining-kitchen-living room and the large master (now "primary") bedroom. We also liked the location far more than any other place we had seen.
What we didn't take into account is the habits of our daily lives vis-à-vis the spaces. In our house, Kathy and I each have our spaces; we are in and out of each other's spaces all the time—it's not as if they're private, no-entry spaces—but we have locations where we engage in our activities. In the townhouse, I have plenty of Gary space, but Kathy gets shorted on Kathy space. Neither of us thought of this, or saw it, until we'd signed the purchase agreement and began contemplating where furniture would be placed and where activities would occur. Kathy began to realize that she wouldn't have an "office" or a good space to crochet & stream movies or shows or a place to do jigsaw puzzles while listening to audio books.
In our relationship, Kathy is the skilled and creative user of the kitchen (for which I am profoundly grateful), and in that respect she has—we have—gained light years over the small galley kitchen of our 1931 house. But for her other activities, we'll have to do some thinking about how to provide space that is comfortable and pleasant. (To be clear, I *do* use the kitchen for breakfast and lunch, on rare occasions make dinner, and am generally in charge of the dishwasher. The unskilled labor.)
The lower walk-out level consists primarily of a small room (bedroom if one wanted—and it includes a murphy bed, which I haven't seen for decades!) and a large "rec" or family room or whatever you want to call it. Those two rooms will be Gary's space, for office/study, for my paint-by-numbers table, for hosting bridge games, and with my reading sofa. So I come out fine in the space category. Since one major objective in this move is to get to one-floor living (which we only partially achieved), putting any Kathy space on the lower level defeats the purpose entirely because she'd be going up and down stairs all day (again).
This will be the first time in my life I've not had a gas stove/oven. The townhouse has an electric cooktop set into the kitchen island. We know, however, that gas appliances are a potential health hazard. For example, Iowa State has produced a report detailing the various gases and levels that can accumulate in a house from gas burners. So I will learn to use an electric stove top. (We wouldn't go to all the expense and effort to have gas piped up to the kitchen anyway.) I believe Elliott and Martha intend to convert the gas stove in the house to electric. I know, many of us have lived for years—most or all of our lives—with gas stoves and other appliances and we're still alive and functioning, more or less, so what's the big deal? Removing health threats in our lives wherever we can seems to me to be a good idea. Look how much smarter and healthier we'd be if we hadn't been exposed to noxious gases all our lives.
Packing books in boxes is boring. But I'd rather do it myself than pay someone $50/hour to do it. Besides, I'll get them in order.
With warm regards—
the dusty Gary (who doesn't dust his bookshelves very often)
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