Ugh. I’m writing this
offline before I post it, so please excuse any Word to Blogger layout translation
snafus. By the way, I only in the last
couple of years learned what SNAFU actually stands for! And – ha! – my life, for these past 3 years
(almost to the day!) has been *just* that:
Situation Normal All F***ed Up!
Anyway . . . yesterday was the 2nd to last day of
work out at the property. Sunday will be
the last. The biggest thing to move is
the king-size bed, and that will require some MUSCLE. Fortunately, I have some scheduled! Dear, dear, *wonderful* friends who have been
helping throughout.
The date of – oh, let’s say it – EVICTION stayed at the 5th,
but I got an extension to work for these last 3 days (last Sunday, yesterday,
and this coming Sunday). The credit
union has been absolutely awful, I’m sorry to say. My BFF encapsulated it well when she said, “I
wonder if there’s such a thing as a foreclosure that’s NOT heart-wrenching?” I doubt it.
Unless the people moving out really don’t care. And that’s not me.
I was scheduled to sign the new agreement for the extension
on Friday, the 4th. That
Tuesday, a holiday “off” for me since it was New Year’s Day, Papa Pea and I
removed the two woodstoves – the antique Kalamazoo that the ex and I moved up
from our last house and the adorable little brown enameled, glass-fronted Hearthstone. On Thursday morning, as I was getting
organized for the day, an e-mail popped up from the credit union (“credit”, my
arse!): if I didn’t return the stoves,
they would rescind the option for the extension, and my appointment for the
next day was cancelled. A mad scramble
with my lawyer and their lawyer ensued . . . and while the stoves ARE
(arguably) *mine*, if I needed the extension (which I DID, thanks to the guy
they hired to winterize the place – but that’s a story for another day which I
MAY just try to forget once this is all over) I had to return the stoves. So, no perfect, cozy little wood stove to
replace the (nice and perfectly functional) stove that’s in this cabin. And, no cool antique stove that WAS MINE
BEFORE I EVER MOVED INTO THIS HOUSE OR GOT THE LOAN TO BUILD IT. Rat bastards!!! Moral of the story? Even if banking institutions *seem* like they’re
gonna play fair (esp. small town ones where everybody knows everybody else),
they’re not when it comes down to the wire.
The other aspect & HUGE humiliation of the extension is
that I am required to access the property only when the overseer is there to
unlock the doors and let me in (to my own house) and wait for me to leave at
night to do the same. The small
concession that they made (okay, it’s a big one) is that, instead of
supervising me all day – which he’s required to do, legally – he leaves after
letting me in and then returns (to, yes, supervise) about 1 hour before I’m out
each evening. Dates and times have to be
prescheduled. Last Sunday was fairly
awful, emotionally & psychologically, since it was the first time I was
there under THEIR rules and overseeing.
Yesterday was okay. This coming
Sunday should be devastating, when it’s time to leave. We’ll see.
I let my emotions do what they will, what they need to do. I’ll have a good crew out there helping with the
last things, but I’ll want everyone to leave before the very end. I had nice, “closure” thoughts a while back .
. . thinking I’d sit in the house for a quiet while alone. Maybe a glass (paper cup?) of wine in hand,
just taking it all in. Buuuuut, that’s
gonna be a little hard with the overseer sitting right there on the stairs, his
occupied spot when he’s there to watch all that I do at the end of each of
these days. But, again, it will play out
how it does.
One way or another, it will be over very soon. THEN, all the fun and games of trying to find
spots for everything stacked up on the deck here (where it’s RAINING right now,
might I add!!!) and at my folks’ begins (the two large storage units are packed
nearly to capacity, awaiting the bed and the last upholstered chair, large area
rugs, small side tables, and remaining *stuff*).
Ugh.
I'm sorry I can't give you more than internet hugs, but I'm hoping things go as smoothly as possible and you're able to move on to moving on :)
ReplyDeleteLetting go of a dream is never easy. It's important to give yourself some closure, dear CM. You are soon embarking on a new adventure and, hopefully, you will pass SRR onto the next family who will love it as much as you. Sending my virtual hugs with Carolyn. You are SURROUNDED by love!
ReplyDeletep.s. That new header photo is ADORABLE!
Good luck as you finalize this chapter in your life.
ReplyDeleteUgh, that's awful. Out here people do everything short of setting fire to the place when they vacate so I imagine that's a policy that was made higher up from whoever the big conglomerate is that is invested in the bank, since clearly a case by case basis would have shown you to be person that would not do that. I'm sorry to hear about those stoves, that really is crazy.
ReplyDeleteHey kid,thing are only going to get better now . I know that the last year have been crap for you. With the hubby problem and then work and more work loosing the house is very hard. I know you love SRR but it is time to let it go and start anew. That is going to be the only way you can do it too, cause I know you and how you feel. Take the time to say good bye to the property you love and forget about the guy there from the CU. You have to have closure cause that you you have to have just tell the guy to get over it . We all love you and think about you everyday. Tucker looks good Love JR
ReplyDeleteI didn't lose my dream house, my farm and 16 acres and horses and my big dogs to foreclosure, I lost it when I got laid off and had to sign it over to the then-not-quite-ex. My folks made the down payment ... my boys are buried there ... and he's living there with his new wife. Credit union and strangers are awful ... but there is a worse alternative. The future will find you whether you want it to or not - and so will new dreams.
ReplyDeleteMy heart breaks for all that they are putting you through. Hugs and prayers
ReplyDelete