(Bats 1.4) Drying the Ink

The process of choosing, paying, and closing the sale

One does not simply buy a home.

The deal can only be sealed in one place, by one special person. That place is an escrow and title company, and that person is a notary. That can only take place after a very special journey has been made. First, you must sign your life away, to take part in a fellowship beyond yourself. You pledge allegiance to your lender, and as an act of fealty you must furnish what is called 'the earnest money.'

Our current property had been purchased from my mother in 2021, in a deal where we took the bank out of the equation entirely. Financing a mobile home or trailer, even on land you own, isn't easy. Especially when the amount was so relatively low. She only owed about one-hundred-fifty for it. Our goal had been to buy it from her, then build our dream home on the lot.

We would buy it from her for two-hundred-eighteen thousand, paying off the bank and then slowly burning down a payment to her with just one-thousand a month for four years. We wanted to save up enough to build a normal home on the property without taking a lien, so we just continued to live in the trailer. The pandemic was winding down, or so it seemed. We were used to spending ten-to-twelve hours away from home, then coming back just to watch one TV show and then sleep.

We had drafted a proposed home design that would have been simple to construct and more than accommodating for us to grow into. We only needed to save up for a few years and then we could afford a loan with fifty-percent down to build the home. That's when both interest rates, material prices and labor skyrocketed. There was also an avalanche of new regulations around how homes needed to be built in Washington state. Economically, building was becoming less feasible.

Then the neighborhood went to hell. It wasn't just all of the neighbors and their vendetta against trees, or their strong desire to douse every inch of their property in virulent insecticide. It wasn't just a standard increase in traffic. It was all of those things, happening at once, and an insane amount of vehicles speeding on our street. You see, there is a high school nearby, and class let out mid-afternoon, right as I finished work and Robby woke up from his nap.

What we wish we could do was go for a walk down to the lake. What we did instead was hunker down in fear and watch a parade of thirty school busses and several hundred cars go zooming past at over twice the speed limit. One day, a group of students came tearing around our tight corner, drifted off the road and hit the large cedar tree adjacent to our house.

Apart from transmission fluid leaking on the ground, no one was hurt. However, it could have been our stroller instead of that tree. Mackenzie handed Robby to the officer who responded, chatted about the school districts, and then a few days later the patrols started. They even pulled over the bus drivers for going double the speed limit. Still, if we wanted to endure the gauntlet of challenges and high costs to build a home, it needed to be in a safe neighborhood. We needed to rethink everything.

With a ton of money saved up in 2023, with a baby growing fast, we had a decision to make. After the house search and the magical Victorian, we were now on that path. We would not be investing in our old property, we would be escaping to the sea, to the forest and the crested shores. Interest rates for building were nearly ten percent, as opposed to buying, which was still in the low sixes. My parents told me about the nineties, when interest rates were above ten percent. We HAD to pull the trigger.

The first document worth reviewing was the inspection. As mentioned before, it outlined a lot of handiwork needed. However, nothing in there seemed a complete deal breaker. It was a mix of things that could be addressed over the course of the next five years, taken in stride, afforded when Mackenzie returned to work. The inspection, being eighty pages long, had call outs of things we should do.

We have identified various items on the subject structure that either require maintenance now or require periodic maintenance in the normal course of ownership. This is only a summary report and is intended as a guide to be used in both short and long term scheduling of maintenance items. Please read the complete report carefully as additional information and details are contained therein. It is always advisable to use experienced tradespeople or a qualified handyperson when contracting for work that may not be within the scope of your capabilities.

There would be a tremendous amount of work. I knew that I'd be doing home repairs and improvements for years to come. Some we'd have to pay contractors large sums for, but if it were spread out over the next five to ten years, we could easily handle it. Things like spraying for powderpost beetles, getting new footings for the wrap-around porch, shoring up the hillslope and adding better drainage, I could handle all that.

24.	Electrical Service - Panel Cover
Maintenance - General

1.	There are open breaker slots on the righthand panel. We recommend having these knock out blanks covered with plastic inserts to provide a safe condition (available at hardware stores).

2.	The inspector also noted sharp pointed screws are holding the panels in place. These are a potential hazard as they may scrape or puncture wire insulation and electrify or short the panel or system. We recommend having the screws replaced with approved flat-tipped panel screws, available for minimal cost at hardware stores.

Consult a handyman/electrician for repair.

It very clearly said that we should hire an electrician to come give an assessment. I myself had measured thirty volts in the master bedroom. In short order, we had a family friend, a master electrician, up there to give an opinion. Apart from a few things to fix, he didn't see any major hazards. So we felt assuaged in some small way. We could figure out how to deal with a few minor inconveniences in the meanwhile.

There was also this brief section about pests which we did notice and talk about.

The inspector noted some droppings, scat, tunneling, holes and/or burrowing in the attic space caused by recent/ past rodent activity. Treatment and extermination measures are needed.

It can be difficult for us to determine if the activity we observed was recent or occurred in the past and has been dealt with, we rarely see live animals. We recommend checking the seller disclosure or ask if this issue has been addressed and treated.

If not, consult a pest control professional for options including exclusion & abatement. It is often necessary to replace heavily soiled, compacted or damaged insulation as well so we recommend consulting an insulation contractor to have areas replaced as needed.

It said rodents, not bats. “Check the seller’s disclosure,” so if this was a major problem, it would be in there. We'd dealt with rodents before. At my parents house growing up, I'd been given the unsavory task of drowning baby rats found behind the wood pile.

Later, while working at a hardware store, I'd hunted rats at night, using a garden stake to prod them out of hard to reach areas. One time a rat had darted in front of a customer pushing a heavy lumber cart. I'd had to clean up the resulting mess, bloody brains and all.

In our Lake Sawyer home, we'd had them in our garden shed eating rose fertilizer. I'd handled it. Burrowing rodents, I’d handled it. My sister needed me to set traps in her garage, I’d handled it. Life rolls on.

My wife, having grown up in a rustic cabin, had similar life experience. To her, rodents were a fact of life too, anywhere she lived rural or urban. We harbored no hatred towards them, and we understood that distasteful work needed to be done. The pictures showed what seemed a very minor amount of activity.

Having a pest company deal with the problem seemed like it would only be a few thousand at most, or we'd set the traps ourselves. Plus, the sellers disclosure would surely indicate a more severe issue, or so we thought. Then we had cats, two ourselves, and Elizabeth would move in with two of her own. No rodent problem would last against this household.

That was of course just one minor item in a huge list of items and follow-ups. Honestly we hadn't spent much time thinking about it, it was on one page out of seventy-eight. After our electrician's inspection and review with an architect, we felt comfortable making the purchase. Now it was time to figure out financing, to go through all the steps to get a loan approved.

I had to get a letter from my company claiming that I had a permanently remote position, as well as all our tax statements and my pay stubs. When we had bought the trailer from my mother, we'd just paid off the bank and signed an agreement with my mom to pay off the remainder to her over four years. This was much more thorough.

Talking with the loan officer, we quickly got side-tracked, talking about fishing stories. He had spent years both on Whidbey Island and Port Townsend, he told me of some great spots where he'd pulled big silvers and kings(chinook). In addition to the salt water, he recalled time spent on lakes and rivers of Fidalgo and Skagit. "You're moving to a fisherman's paradise, you're going to have a blast!"

Then we had to make a large payment for the earnest money. We put up ten thousand, and went back and forth on terms. Should there be clauses if we back out? If so how much? We're asking fifty-thousand under list for both lots, so Elizabeth said they'll get mad if we ask for terms. Our agent said we should ask for terms. We made it half refundable and the seller's agent came back claiming insulted sellers, just as Elizabeth predicted. Thus the song and dance continued. Life rolls on.

Then we looked into title insurance. Everyone assured me that standard not extended ALTA was sufficient. I still don't entirely understand the difference. We knew this was an estate sale, being sold by the heirs, and that there was two years of back-tax owed. That meant they were eager sellers. The fact that the house had been on the market two-years and several buyers had backed out meant that we could ask low.

It ended up being fifty under asking, and twenty cash-back at close. The house had originally listed at over one-point-one million, but now was down to the mid-eight-hundreds. With interest rates climbing every week, we knew we couldn't wait for the right house. Sure this place was a bit creepy, it had 'Addams Family' vibes, but it had spectacular views, hiking, fishing everything we could want. Also, with four stories, it would only be younger families like ours interested. Older couples tended to want less stairs. The odds were good, despite the goods being odd.

Our agent went to Taiwan to visit family, and we worked with one of her peers. After several iterations of signing documents, from the bank, from the sellers' agent, from our agents, we were soon scheduling the notary to come out. For our down payment we had to empty one of Mackenzie's 401K's, but we still could keep most of mine in-tact. Then the agent was with us, sitting outside on a sunny spring day. We passed Robby back and forth and took turns initialing the final set of documents from the title company.

Then that was it. We were done, we were under contract! We were excited, we had wine for the first time since Thanksgiving. We had a ton to celebrate. Soon Robby would have a whole big house to grow into. He'd have several carpeted rooms to learn to crawl on, and tons of trails we could hike around on with him sitting in the baby hiking backpack. Our whole life was slated to change, again, for the better! Life rolls on!

However, it wasn't all bliss and rainbows. We knew that soon we'd have to start figuring out the delicate maneuvers to relocate our family. Our five month old baby would need to be able to have his needs met in both our old and new home while we transitioned. The drive between our places was significant, two-and-a-half hours without traffic, four-to-five with traffic. We would need to minimize trips with our baby, but still get the essentials up north to the new place.

The other sad moment was the realization that we would be further away from family. Sure, Elizabeth would be moving up and living with us, but my mom would be down south still. My sister, with Robby's cousins, two girls, ages four and seven at the time, would be sorely missed. And my grandparents, who lived just down the road, having moved up from Oregon just a year ago, would miss us too.

In a lot of ways, I already regretted the decision. However, having a big place, where we could have lots of guests, and host the holidays, meant we'd have longer stays from our family and plenty of activities to do together.

As my family started processing the reality of the change, we also had a new tragedy to deal with. Our cat, 'the artist formerly known as Kitty Baby, now known as Kevin Bacon' or 'Kevin,' was fourteen years old and had become severely sick. Thinking back on our life, we had taken Kevin from a friend a decade ago. He'd lived with us through three major moves. He'd lived with three other cats that had all come and gone, and a fourth friend, 'Teddy' who now kept him active. Kevin had welcomed Robby into our world, and was both intrigued and possibly jealous.

If Kevin had been a baby instead of a cat, he'd be going into middle school. He'd been with us through thick and thin, through many catastrophic financial and health situations. He'd spent a few years with my elderly childhood cats after my parents divorced and sold the family home.

He'd welcomed his best friend, "Pierre" and spent time playing in the garden with him, until we'd lost Pierre tragically from a blood clot called saddle thrombosis. Now, Kevin was fading, and fast. Taking him to the vet, we soon found out the lumps we'd noticed in his neck were from severely advanced lymphatic cancer.

From that point on, we were trying to figure out when the time was right. He still had energy left, he wanted to be with us. Yet, he started to hide in the bedroom closet, go days without eating, but then get up and limp into the kitchen for a tiny bite. He was wasting away, losing weight fast.

When we found him sprawled on the kitchen floor, an emaciated mess, we knew it was time. Taking him into the vet the final was a terrifying and sorrowful affair. The same little friend that had been with me through so much, who would cuddle under the blankets every morning and howled for breakfast, embarked onto his next journey.

That same night, we had my mom's cousins from California come to visit, with their ten year old and their twin two-year-old girls. My second cousin, Nathan, was tall with reddish hair just like Robby. A mixing of emotions poured over us, we had much to mourn, but much to celebrate.

Jamming in the music room, my cousin on guitar, his son on drums, I took the mic and sang. I mirrored Jack White's voice, roaring out to 'Seven Nation Army.' The lyrics mirrored my inner monologue.

With family next to me, Kevin Bacon in my heart, a beautiful son and wife, and a charming new home waiting for us, the spring air was rife with change. The moment was warm, bittersweet, enduring. Life rolls on.