The Money Pit

Tom Petty sang it best. I think he was singing about waiting to see his lover again, but his observation also aptly applies to real estate.

The waiting is not only the hardest part of selling a house, it’s pretty much the ONLY part. You stick a sign in the yard and wait for a potential buyer. When a buyer looks, you wait for feedback. When the feedback is good, you wait for the offer. In my case, for two years I waited for one potential buyer after another, and even waited for an offer a couple times, but no such luck. Just more waiting. Month after month. Waiting. Season after season. Waiting.

Finally this week … WOO-HOO! The offer came! Hallelujah!!

The waiting is over, right?!?

Wrong.

I have been waiting all day for someone to give me a quote on a termite bond so I can submit an informed counteroffer.

Tomorrow I’ll wait for a response to my counteroffer.

Even if all goes well and they accept, I still won’t be done waiting. I’ll wait a couple weeks for the buyers’ bank approval. Then I’ll wait some more for the inspection. I’ll wait for the report. I’ll wait for FHA inspection. I’ll wait for FHA approval. Then I’ll wait for a closing time.

When the day of closing finally arrives, I’m sure we’ll do some last-minute waiting in the lobby and probably a little more in the boardroom while the final Ts get crossed and Is get dotted.

The tentative closing date is set for May 9. That’s 50 more days of intense waiting.

It has been brought to my attention that for some, waiting is not a big deal. Some speak of a mystical, Zen-like state they refer to as “patience.” After two years of waiting, with this patience, I’m told, 50 days should be easy.

Unfortunately you cannot run out and buy patience at Target, and there is no pill to achieve instant patience — at least not without also achieving semi-unconsciousness. I’m sure there are self-help books on the subject, but who can wait to wade through all that? I need patience NOW!

I’m sure many of you reading this could just calmly wait out the 50 days, doing whatever it is that you calm people do. But we’re talking about a gal whose favorite phrase is: I can’t wait!

I can’t wait for the weekend. I can’t wait to have a glass of wine. I can’t wait to see a show. I can’t wait to go out of town. I can’t wait for pretty weather. I can’t wait for dinner. I can’t wait to see my family. I can’t wait to visit with friends.

50 days of waiting. Yes, Mr. Petty, I concur. The waiting IS the hardest part!!

So I wake up yesterday morning, and when I lift my arms, especially the left one, I have this weird muscle pain near the top of my rib cage under my arms. As the day progresses, I feel worsening pain every time I move my arms—we’re not talking Olympian feats of physicality here, I just mean moving my arms for mundane tasks like reaching for the keyboard at my desk or lifting a coffee cup. “What have I done to myself NOW?!?!?!” I wail in wonder.

I should have known the answer right away: Yet another DIY workout gone wrong.

After a process of elimination—no acrobatic antics in the bedroom, no overzealous trips to the gym (or underzealous ones for that matter), and no marathon chicken-dance or Macarena world-record attempts—it finally dawns on me. Our latest project is a big built-in entertainment center for the den. I spent several minutes, a handful of times during the weekend, standing on the lower cabinets, pushing against a board over my head so Rush could mark for various elements. This header will eventually become an arched cap for the bookshelves. I knew at one point that my arms were fatigued, especially my left arm, which was doing most of the “work”. But I had no clue that I was rendering it useless.

By Monday night I couldn’t move without wincing. I felt like Eddie Izzard when he does his skit about Church of England members having no muscles in their arms.

This is a small muscle just south of my armpit that I cannot name and could not overwork with a set of weights and a month with nothing else to do, but one DIY project, holding up a board a few times, and PRESTO, I’m a temporary paraplegic.

DIY. It ain’t for sissies!

NYE looms large in the legend of The Money Pit. Rush signed papers at the closing

Kitchen 2010

to buy the house on the eve of 2010. Later that night a small handful of close friends, clad in parkas, gloves and scarves, bravely gathered for a brief toast, our breath hanging visible in the den’s frigid air as we looked forward to a future party in the soon-to-be-restored home.

On the eve of 2011, although still unfinished, The Money Pit had come a long way. Scores of friends filled the otherwise empty spaces. Heat

Kitchen 2011 with make-do appliances and yet another cabinet color that we hated

and air, electricity, appliances, plumbing, new tile, refinished hardwood, repaired plaster, fresh paint and too many other projects to list had been completed in that year, and the lack of furniture did nothing to dampen our New Year’s spirits.

And just last weekend we ushered in 2012 with friends and neighbors in what finally felt more like a home than a project. An almost completed kitchen, half bath and dining room, furniture in every room, a fully decorated Christmas tree and stockings hung under a new mirror on the mantel, all made the event far cozier this year. And only once in the preparations for the party did I scream, “It’s at the other house!” in reference to a large baking dish. Otherwise, everything we needed was right at hand. Progress indeed.

Kitchen 2012 with tile countertops, cabinet color we actually like, and new tulip light fixtures

So New Year’s Eve remains an important date in the life of The Money Pit. Without such markers, it is easy to feel like nothing is getting accomplished. During such a big project with so many details to juggle, the successes somehow manage to get lost in the shuffle.

For Rush and me, 2012 holds the promise of completion. We hope to finish all the almost-but-not-quite-done projects—handles on cabinets, caulk on countertops, siding on the magic shed, paint and caulk on interior trim and doors, sealer on the sanded dining room walls, glass and the last bit of tile in the master shower, and mud, paint and shelves for the closets upstairs. The only interior project left to begin from scratch is an entertainment center for the den, but that may not make it to the top of the to-do list this year. If not, we’ll just be wonderfully content to spend 2012 checking off all the projects begun in 2010 and ’11.

To all our DIY friends out there—may all your 2012 projects come in under budget and ahead of schedule. Happy New Year everybody!!

Arch between kitchen and laundry in progress

Finished archway

Rush designed and built a new cabinet for a blank wall in the kitchen

Finished built-in with lead-glass doors, tile counter and tin backsplash