It’s the last weekend in my home of 23 years. I had to eliminate an old pile of wood before giving up the house, scraps left from the demolition of a picket fence.
One last fire.
It’s fitting, I think.
26 Sunday Mar 2017
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inIt’s the last weekend in my home of 23 years. I had to eliminate an old pile of wood before giving up the house, scraps left from the demolition of a picket fence.
One last fire.
It’s fitting, I think.
22 Wednesday Mar 2017
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inSpring is here. The days are getting longer, trees are showing their buds, crocuses are popping up.
Most important, preseason baseball is in full swing. Literally.
This is my favorite time of the year and I can’t wait for the season to start. Adding to the anticipation is the excellent showing of the USA in the World Baseball Classic, one of the best tournaments I have witnessed to date. So excited am I about the new season that the Cardinal wear is already out of the closet.
If my Cub fan friends see that last sentence, there will be sarcasm in the air.
21 Tuesday Mar 2017
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inNo, that’s not a picture of my new luxury condo. I did check it several times to make sure no families had moved in, just in case.
That sucker was as big as a large RV. Several neighbors and family members quipped that ther was no possible way that I could fill a dumpster that large. They scoffed at me for my foolish spending, saying that I could have spent far less for a smaller container, more appropriate to my needs. Perhaps the sparse accumulation of snow that fell the day the dumpster was delivered was an indication of the corresponding accumulation of junk over the years we have occupied our property. 23 years of accumulation, in a house occupied by my hoarding missionary’s daughter of a spouse — she throws away nothing, including empty boxes just in case something needs to be returned to the store. In her defense, much of what she had growing up came out of donation boxes, outdated and patched. She is accustomed to recycling and reusing, so it is difficult for her family to throw anything away, if simply because some day someone else might have a use for it.
The container was delivered on Monday afternoon. I started tossing and tossing and tossing the next day. By Wednesday evening, I had finished eliminating the junk from the backyard shed and the floor level of the garage. That meant there was only one area left — the rafters of the garage. I dreaded that task. Not only was it dirty and dusty, but it was crammed with heavy boxes of books, old baby furniture, as well as a complete dirty remnant of carpet that had been stored there for the whole 23 years we occupied the house.
My wife finally decided to help me with that job, about halfway through the rafters. I welcomed the assistance, tired of carting stuff down the ladder. Thursday night, the task was finished, a few odds and ends tossed over the side of the full container.
That’s right. FULL. To the brim. Full of junk. Full of quite a few memories. All delivered to the landfill.
March 31 comes next, the day we say good bye to the house.
12 Sunday Mar 2017
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inTags
That’s right. You read it correctly. I have a serious crush on a 29+.
Don’t be hating me. After all, a crush is harmless, hurts no one unless it turns into obsession. It could.
Her boyfriend let me ride her yesterday, a cushy, plush, effortless jaunt that gave me just enough taste to makes me want her more. She belongs to him, though. I will have to get my own.
If his name was Jessie, she would be Jessie’s girl. Can we pretend his name IS Jessie? I want to sing the song.
I’m already dreaming about her. In my dreams we are gliding across sun filled fields of daisies, forever joined together, birds singing around us, guiding us into the rocks, escorting us into the woods. Heaven on earth, the sweat glistening in all the right places.
I woke up in a pool of drool, my pillow soaked.
She has big ones. I like big ones. She is a 29+, gorgeous 29″ x 3″ balloons with perfect knobs. I am in lust.
Her name is Salsa. Salsa Deadwood SUS. I want her. I want her badly.
06 Monday Mar 2017
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in…the dulcet tones of STEVE?
Yes. Steve.
This past Wednesday, I recorded a voice over at a tiny professional recording studio. I walked in with a script in hand, was greeted by an energetic young brunette engineer and escorted to a little room, with a closet sized room in the corner that was lined with acoustic foam, a music stand, and an adjustable height microphone with a round spit shield in front of it. She handed me a glass of water, asked me if I am claustrophobic (I lied and said no), gave me some instructions about how the session would go, then closed the door. I could see her and multiple monitor screens, essential for me to follow each segment of the recording as we recorded the script in bits.
There was a choice to wear the headphones or not. I chose to wear them — I wanted to hear my voice. We began with a long sound check as the engineer monkeyed with the levels, brought out a little more of the bass in my voice. I have to say, it was pretty cool to hear myself!
Breath control was more difficult than I anticipated. I managed to make it through most of the takes without snorting in the microphone or breathing heavily like a deranged pervert. There were a few repeated bits as I worked on inflection, as well as slowing down and adding pauses, cleaning up a few places where I slurred or dropped a pronunciation. Some of the challenge for me is simply forgetting what is left of my southern Illinois accent.
I made it through 90 minutes, a bit tired when the session was finished. The engineer seemed impressed, told me that I sound like the guy who narrates some of the How It’s Made videos. That made me feel good. However, when I listened to the finished product later on that night, I still felt happy about the job that I did on the voice over, but realized that I am far from professional. It was a good experience, though.
The voice over was for the first of a series of product training videos the company I work for is producing. My employer is based in Hungary and I was chosen because, and I quote, “Steve sounds very, very American”. That’s a compliment, right?
If my voice over actually is used, I will post it here. Here is the link to the audio files, if you are interested in hearing this dork’s voice — SteveSuckedAndItIsRecorded
05 Sunday Mar 2017
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inTags
This blog is going to have a little side story in it that will cause you to scratch your head in doubt. It will, if you are anything like me. I am scratching my head also, but am seriously thinking about doing it for the practical benefit(s). Soooooo… hold that thought.
The quest for an affordable paradise continues. Unless something causes the house sale to crash and burn, I have until March 31 to find a place to live. Now, don’t let that thought cause your stomach to knot, because I am not losing sleep over that prospect. God gave me a brain, enough experience in life, to figure things out and to realize that there is a solution to this one. Even if it means that I have to impose on a friend to sleep on their couch or commute from my brother’s house on the north shore of Chicago, an hour commute on a perfect traffic day, it will be OK.
My brother lives in a neighborhood that once was the housing and stables for Fort Sheridan in the Highwood/Highland Park area. If I lived with him for a while, I wouldn’t be slumming it, as well as being able to enjoy the short walk to Lake Michigan and all of the bike paths in the area.
The house buyers presented their requests for repairs and credits for my house earlier this week and my lawyer has responded. We have not received a response to our proposed changes to their requests, but I don’t think that there will be huge issues (did I just jinx myself?). This past week, I started looking for contractors to get prices to make the necessary adjustments to my house. That part is painful to this penny pincher, the credits and repairs likely going to be in the $3000-4000 range. Yeah. Ouch. Most of that money is a credit for window replacement, the rest for mold remediation (that is expensive) and an electrician to update the fuse box. I am debating how I am going to handle replacing some of the framing and drywall in the garage, possibly having some friends who rehab for Habitat for Humanity assist me with that one. I only have so much cash right now.
Which reminds me — my wife dropped a little bomb on me last week. She bought a car, from her sister, for our daughter about a year ago. The price was $2500 for a nice little Nissan Versa. I agreed to buying the car if my wife would pay for it. I pay all of our bills from my pay and my wife pays only her car payment, as well as a doctor bill now and then. I just didn’t have the spare change to pay for a car. Guess what? You probably already have guessed. She hasn’t paid a penny to her sister. My wife’s net pay is around $2500 a month. A small amount of discipline would have allowed her to pay her sister for that car by now. Sooooooo, my wife announced to me that she wants me to pay her sister for the car from the money we get from the sale of our house. It’s going to look funny to my sister if we buy a car for our son and we haven’t paid her for our daughter’s car, she said.
It looks funny to me, too was my response. The verdict is out on this one. The I-don’t-have-to-be-a-nice-guy-any-more side of me wants to tell her to have fun dealing with her sister on this one. The common sense side of me says that maintaining a cooperative atmosphere might be more important that a little bit of money.
I continue to try to buy a condo at the condos and villas of Emerald Green. Early on in my search, I focused on Emerald Green because it’s affordable, nice, quiet, scenic, and extremely well maintained by a very active association. It’s also only a mile away from where I have lived for the last 23 years, a place I dearly love. I have failed on two attempts to buy a condo there. Friday, I made an offer on another condo, using another real estate agent who is a friend and is motivated to be a hero for me. He’s also extremely aggressive, something the guy who I was working with is not (but that guy was a great listing agent). This one is looking good. There is another offer besides mine, a cash offer, but my offer is the highest bid, as well as my agent really working on the seller’s agent. This condo has a direct view of the river, something I am interested in simply because of the therapeutic value, something the months to come will require.
Here’s the story that is going to seem cockeyed to some. Yesterday, I took a look at another condo in Emerald Green, one that isn’t yet for sale but will be soon. The owner is the woman I dated seriously before my wife. I bumped into her (not literally) at a stoplight in town a year or two ago, exchanged phone numbers, talked to her a little bit. I called her out of the blue when it became clear that I would be looking at a place in Emerald Green, found out that she wants to buy a house, so I asked her if she would show me her place when it was ready. Her place is in great shape, move in ready. She owns it. We could make the transaction without real estate agents. When I shot her a price, her eyes lit up. It was higher than she expected, the price I want to pay.
Here’s the kicker — I told her that I would have no problems with her taking her time to move out. I would move into the spare bedroom in the mean time. Funny thing is that I trust her. She trusts me. Of all the girls I dated before my wife, she was the most laid back and down to earth.. and it’s obvious to me that she hasn’t changed. So, the idea that she could stick around until she is ready to move was not a bad thought to her. It helps us both, gives me somewhere to go at the end of the month, gives her motivation to get moving on finding her house. She would get things like a lawn mower, leaf blower, garden tools, fertilizer spreader, etc.. from me. By the way, she is looking for a house because her 22 year old son wants to move in with her.
That’s my back up plan should I not win the bid on the condo that I am currently trying to get. I am real close to having this little piece of the puzzle solved.
The quest for paradise continues.
01 Wednesday Mar 2017
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in*Sigh*
Another one bites the dust. The seller for the condo that I made an offer on last Friday accepted an offer that came in after mine. Even though the condo would have required a lot of work, it was in a beautiful location that would have made the work worth it. I am very disappointed, but, well, I am not defeated and remain optimistic. At the moment, the condo development that I want to live in has nothing available.
I may not need to be in a hurry. This evening, my real estate lawyer shared the letter from the lawyer representing the buyers for our house, regarding their requested modifications to the contract resulting from the walk through inspection they did last Saturday.
Bear with me, please. I have never sold a house, so this stuff is new to me. I know that some buyers try to take advantage of the inspection to get a better deal, so they make requests that can seem ridiculous.
Let me just supply this little tidbit — my house is around 32 years old (or more). I know how well maintained it is, know that it has a new roof, new asphalt driveway, new faucets, new air conditioner and furnace, new carpet in some rooms, new master bedroom windows, new shed roof, freshly painted, new hose bib in the garage. In other words, it took a three hour walk through inspection because they really had to search for stuff. The only credit I am/was prepared to give was for 6 windows that are still the original windows. The seals in those windows went bad and are recaulked, but they really need to be replaced. If I wasn’t selling the house, I would replace those windows this year. This place isn’t perfect, it’s not new after all, but I’m not patting myself on the back unnecessarily. This place is in very good shape and is a nice deal for someone.
I am going to see what the lawyer says, but if the buyer sticks to their guns, they are not going to be buying my house. The letter asks for eight modifications to the contract —
These buyers supposedly need to move in by the end of March because the house they are renting is under foreclosure. I hope they enjoy their tent because all but two of the requested modifications will be rejected, maybe all if the credit requests are too greedy.
I know, I know. Patience, little Stevie Sunshine. All will be well.
We’ll see what my lawyer says.
a teacher's journey
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