So, as y’all know, the hubs and I bought this place last May (2015) and we really love it here. We’re never moving unless The Man decides to build their stupid flood control nonsense and we have no choice in the matter. Until that happens (which we haven’t heard a peep one way or the other), we’re here to stay.
So, what does that have to do with the daily prompt (Price) and the bottom line? It boils down to something my uncle told me a long time ago. Now, I don’t agree with much that my uncle says, but I do agree with this. He once told me that “water is the bane of all homeowners everywhere.” And that, dear readers, is so true it’s painful. We looked for signs of water leaking when we bought the house. We had it inspected by a reputable inspector. I, myself looked this place over with a fine-toothed comb before we bought it because the last thing my lungs need is mold. One thing about living in the Pacific Northwest, especially this part of it — there’s a lot of rain. I’m fine with rain, so long as it stays outside. I did see that the windows are old — this place was built in the 1980’s, but I’m okay with that. Everything else seemed to be okay.
I might have mentioned that we’re renting our back area out to a nice young mother. About two months ago, the sliding glass door in her unit started leaking. We finally replaced that. Seems there was no flashing above it, and the siding above it is just… rotting away. We can repair it or replace it, but it will need to be fixed eventually. The boards underneath of it needed to be replaced — obviously. So now her area is warm and dry.
We also have a leak in the skylight in our kitchen. >_< And the cheap-ass linoleum “wood” floor they put down in the kitchen doesn’t like that, so it’s curling at the edges all over the place. Stupid. Now, I’m not much for fashion or how things look, but that’s just… sad. And it’s ugly. Seems the previous owners patched the skylight up with caulking, which is not the way to patch up a skylight. grrrrr. Anyway, we’ve called no less than five roofing companies — FIVE! — and not one of them has returned our calls. “Go local,” people tell me. “Keep the money in the community,” they say. Screw that noise. If local companies can’t be assed enough to return my phone calls, why should I bother to give them my money? The problem is, we live so far from the nearest big city that it’ll be difficult to find a national chain to come out here to fix the problem.
But here’s the thing. The new door, and fixing the leak in the skylight… those are just bandages to stop the water from coming in for a little while until it can find another way in. The previous owner really didn’t take very good care of this house (as we’re finding out), so we’re coming across little things, like electrical issues, and rotting wood, and — as mentioned — leaks. We have to ask ourselves, when do we come to the point where we are simply throwing good money after bad? I mean, repairing things as they come along is all well and good, and it should hold us for awhile; but when does it come to the point where we’ve spent more on the house than it’s worth? At what point are we looking at the house and thinking that the only thing that’s holding it together are the repairs that we’ve made to it? I really do like the house. But I love the land more. The land is what called to me and said, “Stay here. This is where you belong.” I’m fairly sure the hubby feels the same. I get such a sense of peace whenever I look out my window.
Anyway, we’re weighing the pros and cons of simply replacing this house with another manufactured home, or perhaps a modular home, or maybe having one built (if we can ever afford that). The newer manufactured homes aren’t nearly as poorly built as this one seems to have been. We went and looked at some this past weekend, and it was like being in a stick built home, with drywall instead of paneling everywhere, and standard plumbing instead of Mickey Mouse faucets. We found one that was pretty nice, would last as long as we will, and probably wouldn’t break the bank. Of course, we wouldn’t be able to go out and buy a brand new home tomorrow. We still have most of the mortgage on this home to pay off — though really, much of that is the land, not the house. Plus at this point in time, the hubs is between contracts. No, we’re looking at saving our nickels and dimes for a few years, and then replacing this one with another one. Right now, I’m just hoping this one holds together that long — and that we won’t be sinking too much money in to keeping it together.
In other news, I’ve finally gotten tired enough of staring at the walls and reached out to our local vocational rehabilitation program. They’re a government program that helps to retrain people with disabilities so we can work again. Maybe I can work with them to figure out some way to get a paying job with this rebellious body of mine. I mean, building dungeons for Skyrim is fun and all, but it won’t pay the mortgage. You know? And, if we’re going to have to buy a new house and everything, well, the least I can do is put my drop in the bucket. But it’s been nearly ten years since I’ve been able to hold down a job. Well, almost ten years. The last full time job I held was in 2007, when I worked as a night manager in a gas station — just before everything went to hell — and that job only lasted about six months. Before that, it was the job I was fired from when I had my car accident in 2005. I wouldn’t even know what to put on a resume anymore. My skills are still up to date, but my references? Ha! I’m guessing that most of the companies I’ve worked for aren’t even in business anymore. I know Lillian Vernon is gone, at least the distribution center I worked at in Virginia Beach is no longer there. References? Pah. Even the professors from my college days are four to five years out of date, and I’m fairly sure they only have a vague remembrance of me. After all, they meet a lot of people over the years.
Anyway, I’ve taken the first step and reached out to them. Now I’m waiting to hear back from them. We’ll see where it leads. I’m fairly sure I qualify for their program, being disabled and all. So here’s to hoping that I’ll be gainfully employed eventually. According to their video, it could take a few months, or it could take a couple of years — depending on how much training one needs. I’m hoping they can help me, because the price of sitting around watching the paint dry is driving me nuts. But the cost of working was just as bad. There’s got to be a middle ground somewhere.