I am a thrift shop QUEEN

Winter jacket for My Mom

Snow Pants for The Peach

Winter boots for me

Two long-sleeved shirts for The Peach

All items were desperately needed.

Total…. $9

Yes, as a matter of fact I do Rock.

Finding “Baseline”

It’s done.

Over.

The monkey is gone. No more scratching, clawing and making our lives a constant uncertainty day after day after day after… You get the idea.

We closed. The old house is gone. In the capable hands of new owners who will love and care for and fit in the house, hopefully for many years to come.

Closing was $550 more than we were expecting.

So we’re that much farther behind. The scratch marks the monkey left behind are deep and raw and still quite tender. Christmas giving is going to be minimal this year. I’m estimating we will be recovered from the shortfall by January.

Just in time for taxes. We may bite the bullet and get an actual accountant this year, Between taxes on My Mom’s alimony, property tax on our house, rental income and expenses on the old house and the sale at a loss, this is going to be even more confusing than last year. BUT, an accountant will cost about $500 so I’m still going to try to do it myself. I don’t know if we can justify the expense when we’re already going to end up paying (probably a sizeable chunk) of taxes based on My Mom’s alimony. Yet again I voice my opinion that it is completely unfair that he gets a tax break on alimony and she has to pay taxes. The judges told her the settlement was inequitable in his favor in the first place, this just makes it that much worse. It’d be nice if he would pay some of the rest of the settlement off, her half of the house and all since she doesn’t have to pay taxes on that.

So anyway. Finances are still a giant clusterfuck and will continue to be for a while. We’ve passed the mess with the old house and survived and eventually, we will be better off.

There are lots of things that need to be done in our house that are just going to have to wait for now. We have to replace the front and side doors. The draft that comes in from the door on the side is enough to blow papers off of The Peach’s little drawing desk. And the front door isn’t much better. The pellet stove that we invested in last year is losing the battle to the drafts and so we are dumping money into both pellets and oil trying to combat the cold. The Farmer’s Almanac predicts this winter will be even colder and snowier than the last. Joy. It’s October 23. It snowed all last weekend. Just flurries and honestly not earlier than usual for our neck of the woods, but still a rude awakening that summer and autumn have flown by too fast and the only thing we have left to show for it are a few tail feathers consisting of an overgrown lawn and a pool full of fallen leaves.

Finances aside, I’m still reeling. I have this nagging anxiety that won’t go away. Like I’m waiting for something else to happen and the proverbial shit is going to hit the proverbial fan and we’ll be proverbially fucked. All the months of living in this constant state of stress and uncertainty have left me feeling shaky and unstable like I can’t get my feet on solid ground. I can’t concentrate. I can’t motivate myself. I am not functioning at my best right now. Which is totally annoying. I’m used to being sharp. On it. Capable. I’m none of those things right now. And it’s not a depression thing. I don’t think. Just this general film of unease that is clouding up my vision and clogging up my inner workings so my gears have to grind in order to move.

I don’t really remember normal. At least, normal for me. But I’d like to get there again. I’d like to find that sense of stability where things go wrong occasionally, but they’re not spirit-crushing catastrophes that leave me hopeless and slightly crazy. I’d like to get back to baseline. Back to a place where I can post in my blog and do my job and take care of my kids and do all those things that I’m normally capable of. Because the monkey is gone. And I want to be me again.

“Where the Eff Have I Been” Part II… The Money Pit

So… we’re selling attempting to sell our house. Not the one we’re living in. The one we were living in before. We’ve been unable to sell it for about 2 years.

We had a tenant for about a year and a half. Honestly, they were great. They always paid their rent on time and kept the place up pretty well. We were still in the red about $200 a month between our mortgage and escrow payment and the rental income. But manageable. The last 6 months they were there, we agreed they would go to a month-to-month lease so we could put the house back on the market. And lo and behold, we got an offer on the house… An offer of about $30,000 less than what we were asking.

We went back and forth for weeks and finally came to an agreement, $115,000 with $5000 from us back at signing. So basically $110,000. On a house I paid $143,000 for. On a house that I still owe $104,000 to the bank on. With the realtor’s fees, lawyer and various incidentals, we’d be out of pocket about $1,500. We decided it was worth it to, as my realtor put it, “get the monkey off our backs.” So we took the offer, signed a contract and hoped for a closing date towards the end of August. Which would work out really well because the tenants gave their 30-day notice 2 days before we got the offer we eventually accepted.

Then the fun really started.

The buyers are getting an FHA loan through Wells Fargo. FHA loans apparently require you to jump through about 500 hoops before they will give you money. As the sellers, we had to jump through a bunch of hoops ourselves.

The first hoop… not too bad. Just had to make sure the siding and skirting was all in place and the front porch didn’t have any peeling paint. No biggie.

The second hoop… Here’s where the trouble started. The septic. The bank required the septic be pumped and inspected. So the guy pumps the tank ($280) and informs us that the tank is “crumbling” and needs to be replaced. $2500. No. Wait. $3000, the tank is oddly shaped and requires extra labor for installation.

About 2 hours after I got the call informing me just how much the septic would be to replace, I get a text from the tenant (who was just getting the last of his things out of the house and cleaning, because he’s nice)…

The hot water heater is leaking and flooding the room

Great. The Zen Master rushes over there with his wetvac and cleans up the mess and waits for the (after-hours) plumber. Hot water heater is done. Needs to be replaced. $1700. Closing is now set for 9/8.

Septic needs to be pumped again before the tank is replaced. Only $260 this time. Closing is now set for 9/15.

Inspection. Not bad.

Appraisal.

Tie downs under the house are insufficient. Additional tie downs needed. $400.

Structural Engineer required to inspect the house and determine that the ramps and porch that are added on are not “compromising the structural integrity of the home.”

At this point I have received several collection calls from the mortgage company wondering why I haven’t paid September’s mortgage payment. Since the closing has now been pushed to 10/8, I bit the bullet and paid September. $1100, that we were planning on putting towards closing.

House itself is fine. Ramps and porch need retrofits to meet specifications. This time the buyer handles it.

Septic. Again. Requiring a scoping to make sure the pipes are ok. Everything is good, Septic company send the invoice with their report to the bank. Nope. Need a letter on company letterhead stating the septic is permitted for a 3 bedroom house and it is in good condition and will be sound given good maintenance. Closing is now 10/16.

Guess what? Septic is not permitted. Permit was never obtained because it was “Grandfathered in.”

So now I’m waiting on our realtor to argue with the bank and plead with the zoning office to try and sort this out. Closing is… I don’t even know if there will be a closing now.

We have no way to pay the mortgage on both houses without a tenant. At this point, if we cannot straighten this thing with the septic out, I will seriously consider letting the house go into foreclosure.

And the worst part? The buyers. They’re a 50+ couple who’ve never owned a home before with a handicapped son. The house is handicapped accessible so it’s truly the perfect home for them. They’ve painted inside and out, pressure washed and stained the deck, and did all the retrofits under the ramps and front porch. They’ve put as much into this as we have and they deserve this home. It infuriates me that the bank is making it so hard for them to buy their first home, all because it was the banks themselves who fucked up the whole housing situation in the first place.

So that’s caused a little bit of stress this summer. Another reason I haven’t posted I guess.

Anybody happen to have about $100,000 laying around and feel like getting this house off our hands?

Didn’t think so.

A Brief Rant

So here’s the news… Both Crazy Girl and my newbie BFF from work… Who still needs a Blog name… Let’s call her… Um… Newbie for now… I’m just not clever enough to come up with a good pseudonym for her right now. ANYWAY, Both Crazy Girl and Newbie are preggers. Due within a month of each other. Both unexpected. Crazy Girl is 37 and had basically just thought she couldn’t have kids. Not that she ever tried specifically, she just had a string of long relationships and wasn’t particularly careful about contraception. Newbie never wanted kids and had a one time spur of the moment “oops,” with her husband mind you, and got pregnant. So I get to live vicariously through their new motherhood and hold brand new babies again without risking death (literally) and getting pregnant again myself.

Crazy Girl is doing okay. Her man is a sweetheart and he has several jobs. He can easily quit one of them and take care of their new babe while Crazy Girl continues to work. Things will be tighter for them, but they’ll make it since Crazy Girl also has a huge family who are willing to come chip in and help.

Newbie? Not so lucky. She’s been spending the past few weeks trying to find daycare spots for December. She’s called about 20 or so. No spots. And the one or two that do have spots are charging $1000 or more per month.

So here’s the rant…

Newbie is college educated, as is her husband. She works with me, secure, decent pay… Job. Her husband is a teacher. Between the two of them, they make a very good wage. But due to the expense of daycare and the fact that our job has no maternity leave, just unpaid FMLA (all that means is you can be out of work for an extended period for medical reasons without losing your job), and she’s due in August, right when her hubby goes back to school, she may actually have to quit her decent-paying, middle class job and get a part-time job at night, just so they can avoid trying to get blood from a stone to pay for daycare and still be able to afford to live. Because they’d actually come out ahead that way.

How fucked up is that?

How is it possible that in this “wonderful, free country,” a country in which friends of mine have fought overseas for, a country that purports to be the greatest nation on earth, how is it possible that an intelligent, college-educated, working couple cannot afford to have a child? How is it possible that the only way Crazy Girl and her man aren’t in need of assistance is because her man is quitting one of his jobs to care for their child? In that respect, how is it possible that a hard-working family of four can’t survive with both parents working at minimum wage without food stamps, medical and rent assistance from the government. How is it then possible that Congress can take away these benefits from these already struggling families, middle class or poverty-stricken and complain about the “Welfare culture” in this country?

It’s unfair. And there’s nothing we can do about it. Because Our government is not For the People, it’s For the Rich. So if you don’t make enough money to buy a couple of votes, you are pretty much screwed.

I told you it was brief.

Wow…

So, I guess I hadn’t finished seeing up my gofundme account and it wasn’t accepting donations. Let’s try this again!
Princess Punk’s Europtrip!

You know I’m getting desperate when…

I start posting personal stuff on my blog… Okay, I ALWAYS post personal stuff. I mean personal information stuff.

So here’s the thing. One of the numerous reasons I’ve been lax on posting lately is (yet again) struggles with finances.

I love my house. I really do. It’s in a perfect location and it’s the right house for my girls. But it is costing us SO MUCH GODDAMN MONEY. Did you ever see that movie “The Money Pit?” That’s kind of what I’m feeling like at the moment. One thing after another, after another, after another.

Seriously.

We got an energy improvement loan and got a pellet stove. Unfortunately, we apparently should have replaced some doors and added some more insulation to the house first. And maybe put the stove in a different location. Because last week, we ran out of oil, a few days before we were due for a fill. Which means we’re actually using MORE oil to heat rather than less.

Granted, it has been painfully cold this winter, like, I-almost-miss-Florida-cold. But not quite. But regardless, the drafts and poor insulation in the house are drowning out the moderate amount of heat the little stove is cranking out. And of course, since the house was built in 1949 with addition after addition after addition put on, the footprint on the main floor has lots of angles and the hot air that is actually beating out the drafts is really only able to heat one room.

So the oil bill is still pretty high and our electric/water/sewer (all in one) is through the roof since we’re having to use space heaters in all the minus-fuck-you temperatures we’ve had the past few months.

My Mom finally got the bill for the divorce lawyer. $1000 for not much of any help at all. Mom did most of the legwork. They didn’t even go to court with her.

We’re desperately trying to sell our old house since our tenants are on a month-to-month lease right now (the only way they would agree to let us have the house on the market), and even if we sell it at the asking price, we’ll only walk away with enough to pay some of our debt down. Like, less than half. I’m basically losing my entire down payment, which was my inheritance from my grandmother. Joy.

Taxes. Oh taxes. oh, oh, OH MY GOD TAXES. My Mom has been getting a good amount of alimony from That Man since the divorce. According to the judges (3 of them in complete agreement) even the settlement she got, which was more than she asked for, was not anywhere near an equitable one, to his advantage. And here’s the really unfair part. He gets to deduct it from his taxes. All of it. He’s most definitely going to get a refund this year. My Mom? She has to pay income tax on what she’s received. Which we’ve put nothing aside for.   Our tax bill could be as much as $5000 (Maybe more? Hope not). But we honestly have no idea. And the accountant is going to cost us $550 just for basics. And unfortunately, H&R Block is, IMHO, not equipped to handle the huge clusterfuck of alimony, rent, property tax, medical bills, medical premiums and various other craptastic stuff. Plus, they’ll likely charge us as 2 households anyway which will be almost as much as a CPA.

Finally… And the reason for my begging and pleading post today….

Princess Punk is going to Barcelona. Hopefully. This is a beyond incredible opportunity for her. And we’ve done a lot of fundraising and belt tightening and no-more-morning-Dunkins-Mrs. Newlife. But here’s the thing… My Mom has to go too. Because of the horrible D-Monster, we need to send a chaperone on the trip who is closely acquainted with Princess Punk’s personal issues with blood sugar regulation, low and high numbers, the effect of sports on her sugar, hormones, stress, travel… Etc. I can’t go and The Zen Master can’t go because of our respective jobs. So it falls on My Mom. It’s $2500 for each of them. Which includes a lot. Airfare, most meals, hotel and entry fees to various tournaments and games. But not incidentals, like say, Princess Punk’s passport. Oh. I didn’t mention the reason did I? Okay. ADD much? Anyway. This trip is for her high school soccer team through the local soccer club. She will have the opportunity to play against European soccer… Excuse me… Football teams. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity for her. This is a chance to get her skills up, a chance to make the varsity team for real next year, a high mark to put on her college applications, a chance opportunity that could help her land a scholarship in 3 years. This. Is. Important.

And yeah, I know there are tons of people out there reading this saying, “WTF is wrong with you, save your money for something else… Like bills!” But this is important. I’d even say vital to the future of my Princess. We don’t have money for a college fund. The Princess has decent grades (finally) but not good enough to get a scholarship. She doesn’t test well so a 1600 on the SAT is just unrealistic. This trip is a HUGE step towards her being able to get into a good (even just decent) college. So it’s more important than taxes, or bills, or credit cards, or house repairs. Because this is a step toward a future for my Princess. And she deserves it.

http://www.gofundme.com/Jules_Eurotrip

So here I am. Begging for donations. And I hate that. I hate asking for money. I truly do. Because there are so many more out there worse off than I am. So maybe, IF you decide to take pity on me and make a donation, you can make a donation to JDRF or the American Diabetes Association too. Because that’s the main reason we’re getting killed on this.

 

 

 

Thank you!

Good Things Come to…

Waited long enough for me hunh?

I can’t guarantee this post will make up for it, but I will (I hope) be posting a bit more frequently so I don’t go another 6 weeks with nada…

So…

I’m awesome.

Since we last parted ways my dear blog, quite a few things have happened.

• I turned 35… honestly, not a huge deal, but still, one of those birthday milestones.
• I got a new(ish) car
• The Zen Master got a new(ish) car… before you go thinking we won the lottery or something, after some serious number crunching, we discovered that, with our improved, all-grown-up-now credit scores, a car payment with a service plan on a newer car with better gas mileage (Civic for The Zen Master, Prius for me) will cost us the same as gas and repairs for his beater trick and my Subaru. Turns out, the gas mileage on the Prius is so good (50+mpg), I’m actually ahead a little bit. The Zen Master just replaced Bertha last weekend, so we’ve yet to see the benefit there. Since we have been paying an average of $100+ monthly on repairs and on a good day(when it was running at all) the beastly vehicle got about 8mpg, it’s a safe bet that he’ll at least be breaking even as well. Not to mention the “will it start today?” anxiety is done with. Oh, and we kept the Subaru (wouldn’t have been worth much on trade and my father “lost” the title) so now My Mom has a way to get around too.
• The Peach is using the potty. When she feels like it. Mostly. Sporadically. Kinda… At least she doesn’t think it’s “gwose” anymore.
• Princess Punk is a STAR. She graduated 8th grade. And got “The Presidential Award For Outstanding Academic Achievement.” This award is presented to (quoting from the US Department of Education) “students that show outstanding educational growth, improvement or commitment… It is meant to encourage and reward students who work hard and give their best effort in school, often in the face of special obstacles to their learning.” Because she is amazing. Even though she won’t get her ass out of bed right now. Oh yeah… She’s also probably going to make varsity soccer when school starts. She’s participating in an informal summer league with the high school team and a handful of middle school players. It’s being coached by the high school coach and he is impressed by her defensive skills. Although he has mentioned that she better start running more and get up her stamina. Princess Pink is stocky and muscular and she can run faster than most of the girls out there. For a very short distance. Which is great when she’s right by the goal and needs to beat the offense to the corner, but if she has to bring the ball up the field, she slows down fast. The girls move the ball up and down the field a lot more in high school, she’s gone have to put in some work to keep up. She can do it, but she is being particularly grumpy and lazy about it at the moment. The team is going to start running in a week or 2, 2 miles, twice a week. That ought to get her going. Note if she would just get going this morning… Oh look! Zombie Teen just walked into my room… Oh. And flopped onto MY bed. That’s not helpful.
• I am awesome at my job. New trainees LUUUURVE me. And I’m totally loving being a competent trainer.
• I have a new friend! I’m going to have to come up with a suitable blog name for her. One of the noobs at work, we hit it off right away and are hanging out (like actually outside of work hanging out) on a regular basis. She’s weird. And awesome. And perverted. Just like me. SWEET!

So anyway… laptop is still not fixed. I’m writing this on my kindle, still better than from my phone, but still a pain in the arse.

I’m hoping to be able to post more often… I miss you Blog.

Buzzzzzzzzzzz

Been awhile hunh?

Didja miss me?

You know you did…

Soooo… Let me start by saying, the title to today’s post has absolutely nothing to do with any battery-powered “massagers” that I may or may not have stashed in my underwear drawer. In the back. Under the black and pink striped bra…

I digress.

Today’s post is actually about just how motherfucking busy I have been of late. Like a bee… Get it?

Work- Buzzz… Training new hires, managing my own workload and taking on a committee that I probably don’t have time for. Loving it though.

New house- Buzz buzzz… I adore my new house. Seriously. This is the first time I’ve felt like I’m home since I was a kid. This is my space, my family’s space and it’s home. That being said… There seems to be some kind of new issue/problem/repair/clusterfuck every day.

Thank you SO much Peppa Pig. ~sigh~

The paved driveway has more potholes that the dirt road to My Mom’s old house. That expense is going to have to wait. Right now we’re just kinda swerving (maybe pivoting? It’s a short driveway) around the deep ones in order to preserve the exhaust systems on the cars. The Peach thinks it’s fantastic and everytime it rains she has to go “jump in muddy puwdews?”

The pool that Princess Punk was so excited about? Well, the snow melted and we discovered that the previous owner (let’s just call her Frivolous Fanny… Heh… Fanny) had “neglected” to cover the pool over the winter and as a result the liner is shredded and needs to be replaced. As this is a major part of the backyard that would probably require $10,000 to remove and re-landscape and is actually a good investment should we ever decide to sell, we must replace it. That and the fact that Princess Punk’s bottom lip will hit the pavement if we don’t. So… New liner. A little expensive, but easy-peasy right? Wrong. Frivolous Fanny had a tendency to spend a lot of money on things. Top of the line everything. Ok… Top of the line things that she could brag about. God forbid she spend as much money on the electrical system in the house as the TWELVE THOUSAND DOLLAR ABOVE GROUND POOL. Yes. Seriously. Custom built, wood-sided, last forever (if you take care of it) above ground pool. So it needs a special liner. And a foam liner as well since the plastic liner can’t be directly against the wood or it will tear in a fairly short amount of time. And, since she didn’t cover it over the winter, the lining split a little bit. And then water got in-between the lining and the pool. And then it froze. And expanded. And blew out some of the packed-sand base and rocks surrounding the bottom on one side. So it’ll be expensive to fix. Like The Zen Master and I hitting our rather meager Scottrade retirement account (he was NOT happy) and My Mom hitting her rather meager IRA (she was NOT happy) expensive. And when I asked the guy who came to fix it (and left because it was going to take twice as long as he thought and he was already booked for another job that day) if it was worth it, he said, “You know, if this was a regular above-ground, I’d probably tell you don’t bother. But I was the one who actually installed this one and it’s definitely worth it to fix. And if you let it go like this, it’ll be truly ruined.” I need to remember to call him to see when he’s coming back. Princess Punk has her heart set on a pool party for her 8th grade graduation and it’ll take at least a week to warm up after it gets filled since the tap water is about 42 degrees.

Yes. That is my backyard. Jealous?

We have a yard. Like a real yard, with gorgeous trees and a Big. Flat. Lawn. We have an acre of land total (which is a rarity since we’re actually in town) and I’m not sure how much of it is grass, but it’s… A lot. Definitely more than Princess Punk, The Zen Master and I combined could handle with our crappy little lawn mower that isn’t even running right now. Since we couldn’t manage any more one-time major chunks of pay-this-now-so-your-house-doesn’t-fall-to-shit, we went to Sears and got a 12 months, no interest, line of credit on a brand new little riding mower. With a bag. Because there is no friggin way I am raking up all those grass clippings. It’s actually pretty cool and if we can afford it someday, we can actually attach a snow-blower to it so we don’t have to pay to plow.

There are little things all over the house that keep… Fitzing. New word. Let’s see…

Fitz (‘fits) transitive verb – to break unexpectedly, causing a new homeowner stress and expense; generally referring to a small annoyance rather than a crushing financial blow.

The wall lights in the bathroom just completely fitzed.

 The wall lights in the bathroom completely fitzed. The mirror backsplash (Yes. Mirror.) behind the stove developed a 2-foot crack. The 3-season porch (that was supposed to be my special place) has undergone land development by ants as if it were Miami beachfront instead of a slate floor with too much loose mortar. The windows in the living room keep coming off their tracks. Some of the pipes in the basement are leaking. Again. The downstars bathroom sink isn’t draining properly. The doorknob on Princess Punk’s room gets stuck, both open and closed. The shelves in the door of the fridge are breaking off. One of the garage doors doesn’t always open. The other garage door never opens. There’s a light in the garage that we can’t find a switch for. Oh, and I’m pretty sure there’s a squirrel living in the attic.

And we’d like to have a garage sale at some point this summer. Because combining 2 households that both already had to much stuff then adding on all the crap that Frivolous Fanny decided she didn’t want to bother moving makes for OBFM… That’d be One Big Fucking Mess.

Then…

Kids- BUZZBUZZZ BUZZITY-FUCKING-BUZZ… The Peach is a joy. And a total pain in my butt. She is absolutely friggin nuts and delights in doing really weird shit and then gets extremely pissed off when you call her on it.

“OUCH! GODDAMMIT, do NOT put your wooden blocks under the rug!”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO IWANNAPUTMYBOKSUNNADEWUG EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!”

And then she stomps over to my bedroom door, looks at me, slams it, and proceeds to kick at it until her fat little toe makes actual physical contact with the door. Then she cries woefully, sticks her foot in my face and says,

“Moooooommmmm… I hab a booboo… kissit.”

Princess Punk is… Well, she’s a teenager. We live in town now. Princess Punk walks to school. It takes her about 3 minutes to walk to soccer practice. Which is really nice because I can actually be cooking dinner instead of waiting for her to call me for a ride. Several of her friends live within a block or two of us. And we have this great back yard. And a pool table (yet another thing that Frivolous Fanny decided it was too much trouble to move). So our house has become… The Spot. More and more frequently, I find teenagers in my house when I get home from work. They’re just… There.  And while I’d much rather have them here where I know who she’s with and what she’s doing, it is still taking some getting used to. Not to mention, there are boys there now. Did you see the last post? One of the kids she knows lives 2 houses down and cuts through our backyard on his way home on a fairly regular basis. So he ends up stopping by occasionally to play video games and hang out. He managed to be “walking by” when The Princess and two of her girlfriends were playing around with a hose in the backyard. In their 2-piece suits.

“Heeheehee OHMYGOD, don’t give him the hose! EEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!”

Smart kid.

So basically, what I’m saying here is… Life is good. But TOTALLY chaotic. So I’m posting when I can, but I’m thinking it’s not going to be super frequently until things settle down a teeny bit. I do miss my blog, and I’m going to try and take a minute here and there to write (this post took me 4 days), but….

BUZZZZZZBUZZZZZZ!

Pros and Cons of living in VT… The Sequel

So… Almost 2 years ago, I wrote a post called, “The pros and cons of living in rural Vermont.”

Shit. I can’t believe I’ve been writing this blog for over 2 years…

Anyway, that post remains, to this day, the most viewed, searched, visited and commented-on post on my blog. I get at least 10 hits a week on that post and I continue to get occasional comments thanking me for my (weird) perspective on living here.

Reading it over again, I feel like it needed a little updating, especially since there are a few things to add and a few to remove.  Just to make sure people get the right idea…

Plus, I’m hoping, that on this second day of April, if I go over again why I like to live here, I might not be so grumpy about it being 29 degrees when I left my house this morning.

First of all… Some more stuff I’ve thought of-

 

Really? I never would have guessed.

 

Cost of living is HIGH. Income tax is a bitch, especially coming from FL where there was none. Sales tax is also pretty high, but only on certain things. Room and meal tax (i.e. hotels and restaurants) is about 9%. But no tax on clothes or groceries. And the property tax is painful. That depends more on the town you live in though since it’s mostly based on municipal and school costs which are town budget things. You can also get a break on taxes based on your income. The town I live in happens to be particularly high in the range, and even with the state subsidy, my escrow payment is a bit shocking. Great fresh food and dairy is readily available, but, since most of the farms here are small, localvore food is a bit pricey. “Buy Local” is all well and good, but only when you have a grocery budget that’ll cover it. And the worst? Fuel. If you’re looking into moving here, You need to look into houses that are well insulated and run efficient furnaces or are heated by alternative fuels or pellet stoves. I didn’t and as a result, in my poorly insulated double-wide with hot air heat, a crappy kerosene furnace and an uninsulated water heater, our average combined electric, kerosene (furnace) and propane (hot water and stove) was about $400/month. Seriously. In the new house? We’ve been there 2 months (give or take) and already used almost 200 gallons of heating oil. With fairly efficient baseboard hot water heat. Now, before you panic and start looking elsewhere, keep in mind, that my old house was pretty much worst case scenario and the new one, while completely different, isn’t a whole lot better. In our search for less claustrophobia inducing space, the new house is more than twice the square footage of the old one. BUT… built in 1949 with minimal energy-efficient improvements since then. We’ve had an energy audit and are waiting for the results, but I’m guessing, with some insulation blown into the walls, we’ll see a dramatic improvement. So it’s not all bad. But yeah, it’s definitely more expensive.

 

On the other hand, the average pay rate is higher and the quality of life is much better. My starting pay at my current job was about $7000/year more than the same level job I held in Florida. And I was paying $850/m rent in a shitty 1 bedroom apartment in a crappy neighborhood. I had a homeless lady camping out on my front porch. Seriously. She suffered from fecal incontinence. I had to bleach my entranceway when the police finally got her to move on. And since you have to run the AC year-round (as opposed to only running the heat in the winter-time here) my electric bills were always high. So overall, I think it’s probably somewhat comparable.

 

 

Mmmmmaybe.

 

On the previous post…

Availability of electronic communication is limited. High speed internet is not widely available and even cell phone converage is limited and in many places, completely unavailable. You know those sweet new 4G phones they’re advertising? Totally useless here. We’re lucky if we get in an area that has 3G service. I can’t tell you how much I love driving to Montpelier on route 12 which is windy, twisty, icy and frequently populated by moose (the animal kind) without the ability to call for help if I crash or something. (That was sarcastic if you couldn’t tell…)

That’s changed. A lot. There are still places in the state (mostly in the Northeast Kingdom) where you’re lucky to get one bar on your phone. But mostly, 4G is readily available, as is high-speed internet, and even my little podunk town has free wifi on Main St. Isn’t that adorable?

 

Weather? It’s a Bitch. As mentioned, April 2nd and 29 degrees this morning. Of course it’s 49 now, but really… To be fair, it’s been a crappy winter for most of the Northeast in general, but even in a regular year, the general population here is pissy and fed-up by March. There is a rather high rate of alcoholism here and it is directly related to the long, shitty winter. Really, there are studies out there. 

 

Given that, the general attitude around here is pretty laid-back. People move at a slower pace, just like the weather. To someone rather high-strung (ummm… that’d be me), this is both a blessing and a curse.

Clearly I’m not from here.

It’s definitely a good thing for me to slow down a bit, but the lackadaisical attitude by folks around here can be infuriating when I want to get something done. Like say some repairs in our new house. “Mudding” a dinner-plate sized hole in the wall just should not take 4 days. The guy would show up around 4, leave around 6 for 4 days. Granted, he had another job, and the completed job was excellent, but the pace at which it was done was making me absolutely fucking crazy crazier. Pinning down a time for him, or any of the other guys doing work on the house was just this side of impossible. The electrician? Did an excellent job. For an extremely reasonable price. And he actually did complete his work in a timely manner. But it was kinda difficult to plan around him needing to come in and rewire the basement when he called me the night before and told me, “Ya, so I’ll be thur ’round 8 in the morning.” Um… Ohkay? Despite all this, they were all honest and straightforward. the estimates they gave were (mostly) on target. One of the estimates was over and one was under so we came out even. Honestly, I couldn’t even get mad at the breezy, “So, we ended up cutting through that wire there. There wasn’t no sparks or nothin’ so I don’t think it was hooked up.” It was. I have no idea why they didn’t get electrocuted since the fuse hadn’t been switched off. But they didn’t seem to be concerned.

 

Additionally, while there may not be the variety of cultural enrichment here as there might be in a more populated state, there are some amazing crafters, artisans and local artists here. Go to any farmer’s market in the summer, and you’ll find amazing farm-fresh fruits and veggies, eggs, cider, organic beef and pork and course, maple syrup. In addition, you’ll also find breads, cakes and pies that would make the most hardcore Atkins dieter fall off the wagon. Hand-woven Alpaca scarves, sweaters and shawls. Hand-lathed wooden bowls. Jams, jellies, dressings, marinades, rubs and mixes made with the utmost care and worthy of the kitchens of any 4-star restaurant. Lotions and soaps, made from goats milk and lavender and lemongrass that would cost you $60 in any department store. Pottery and baskets and knives and batik printed dresses. Artisan beers, Ben&Jerry’s, Green Mountain Coffee… You can’t find this stuff, made with such care and attention to quality and detail anywhere but here. There’s a reason the “Made in Vermont” sticker gets misused by manufacturers. It’s because the stuff made here is good.

 

Ben&Jerry’s… Suck it Florida.

 

I must again stress the safety of this state. Although Gov. Shumlin’s State of the State address this year was devoted in it’s entirety to the growing epidemic of opiate addiction, there is still SO much less violence. Top news story here today (courtesy of WCAX)

Fire damages Burlington apartment house

Posted: Apr 02, 2014 12:05 PM EDT

Updated: Apr 02, 2014 12:05 PM EDT

By Melissa Howell – bio | email

 

BURLINGTON, Vt. – Fire damaged an apartment house in downtown Burlington early Wednesday morning. Crews were called to the building at the corner of Pearl Street and North Winooski Avenue at about 3:40 a.m. They found flames coming from the top floor. All five residents of the building got out safely and no one was hurt. Most of the damage appears to have been contained to the upper two floors. “Well right now it’s hard to say; we’re still investigating. At this point, there’s not a lot of structural damage except for the third floor. Second floor has a fair amount of fire damage, water damage everywhere,” said Joe Keenan, the assistant fire marshal in Burlington. Seven firefighters had been on route to Boston to attend the funeral of a fallen firefighter when the second alarm forced then to turn around and respond to the scene. The cause of the fire is still under investigation.

As opposed to Tampa(tbo.com)

Car of Pinellas man, 84, stolen hours after he was attacked

By TBO.com staff

Published: April 2, 2014   |   Updated: April 2, 2014 at 10:42 AM

The 84-year-old Pinellas Park man who was attacked, beaten and stabbed Tuesday told police his attackers wanted to steal his car. Later that night, someone stole Charlie Clark’s Ford from the front of his condominium building on the 5000 block of 76th Avenue, Pinellas Park police said. The vehicle, which was taken between 11 p.m. and 3 a.m., was recovered Wednesday morning in St. Petersburg, police said. Police said they are looking for a suspect. Before 10 a.m. Tuesday, Clark sustained serious injuries when three teens — two males and a female — attacked him as he returned to his condo from a store, police said. Clark told police he thought the trio was trying to steal his car. He said he had just exited his vehicle in a parking lot when one of the attackers grabbed him from behind. As he struggled to break free, Clark said, he knocked one of three to the ground while struggling with another. During the struggle, Clark said the attackers didn’t make any demands, but he was stabbed at least twice with a knife that police recovered at the scene. A witness came to Clark’s aid, and the suspects fled on bicycles, police said. After the attack, Clark was taken to a hospital, treated and released. Investigators released surveillance videos from a nearby store that shows three people on bicycles shortly after the attack. Police said they want to talk with them. Police described two of the suspects in the attack as black males, one in his late teens with dark skin and average height and weight, and the other in his early to mid-teens. The female suspect was described as Hispanic in her early teens, with a heavier build and red-brown hair, wearing a gray hoodie.

 

 

 

I can’t think of a more convincing reason to live here, instead of there. I’m still grateful to have the chance to raise my kids here.

 

 

 

At a loss for words. Yeah, me.

So I haven’t been blogging. Obviously. But I came to the realization tonight that I really, REALLY need to. I’ve been incredibly stressed lately. Things are wonderful and exciting and sad and infuriating all at the same time.

And terrifying. Can’t forget terrifying.

But tonight I figured out that I really have to blog. Because I’ve been censoring myself lately. Because I’ve been told that I’m annoying. And needy. And inconsiderate.

I had my evaluation at work yesterday. And while it was ok (satisfactory would be the word they used), there was also a survey from some of my peers about my good… and bad qualities.

I’m “mopey.” And “inappropriate.” And “unapproachable.” And I bring too much of my personal life to work.

My therapist even snapped at me.

And at home, I can’t seem to say anything without getting the impression (or being told straight out) that I’m just this huge emotional vortex and I can’t think of anyone but myself.

Which is really not the case at all.

I just don’t hold anything back. I don’t censor myself. If someone asks me how I am, or how my day was, I’m not going to smile and nod and say “fine” when I’m just not. Apparently most people do that. I just don’t. What you see is what you get.

So lately, I’ve just been avoiding people. Which doesn’t really come across as particularly friendly either. But I don’t really know what else to do. I’ve been withdrawing from my family, my friends, my co-workers, because I’m REALLY FUCKING TRYING not to burden anyone else with my shit. Because I KNOW that everybody has their own shit to deal with. That is just as important as mine. But because I’m trying to damp it down, to keep my stuff to myself so that I don’t appear like I’m seeking attention or pity or whatever the fuck people are thinking, I keep erupting at random intervals in this clusterfuck bundle of emotions that I can’t even sort out. The other day, my physical therapist asked me if I wanted to start my session on the treadmill and I just started crying. I don’t think I was sad, or angry. I don’t even know what it was. But I couldn’t stop. I cried the entire 45 minute session. I felt like an idiot. I felt weak and stupid and helpless and I HATE feeling like that.

We have a new house. It’s wonderful. But it’s not new, it’s old. It needs work. And money is not really readily available. I’m not even going to get into that whole heap of bullshit. We ran out of oil tonight. Which is particularly bad because we’re having the downstairs floor refinished and the finish can’t cure or something if the house is below 70. Which is difficult even with a full tank of oil because the house is old and kinda drafty. So we may need to call the floor guy tomorrow morning and tell him to wait because we can’t get an oil delivery until Monday and when I tried to give the phone to The Zen Master so the oil guy could tell him how to bleed the fuel line if we put diesel (yes. diesel) in the tank, he almost cried. And then he yelled at The Peach (who had just started tearing up some mail) and stormed into the basement. My ZEN MASTER. And all of My Mom’s worldly possessions are clustered in the living room because my adoring father (that was sarcasm) told her that she needed to come get her shit NOW or he was going to put it out in the driveway. The day before the biggest storm so far this year. And two days before we actually owned the fucking house. So she had to get movers in to pack AND move her instead of having a few days to pack on her own. We’re estimating he cost her about $1000 extra for the labor.

So it’s a little crowded. and stressful. And at the moment, cold. But we’re all here and safe and happy and together so it WILL be ok.

But anyway. All of this whole diatribe was to share my final conclusion. I HAVE TO WRITE THIS BLOG. I will completely disintegrate if I don’t have an outlet that is completely unfettered and free-reign where I can get shit out without worrying about hurting someone’s feelings or making someone angry, or making someone else feel like I need something from them. Because I don’t. All I need is to talk.

And here? Here is where I do that.