And there you have it. The sellers excepted our offer and we have a signed contract. Now we enter the next phase of relocating to South Carolina. I'm nervous to the point where I can easily throw up in my own mouth at any time. Shit's getting real, and real quick. Every moment now needs to be accounted for with hard deadlines needed to be met. We're just pawns in the game of buying and selling and we're not controlling the game.
From the outside Sun City appears to be a non-brainer for us, and we believe this home will serve us well. While we have waxed and waned on various home locations around Sun City and this one seems to check all the boxes. Buying a home in Sun City is a daunting task. One, there's four distinct sections, each with its own positives and negatives, and each with its own price range. Newer and bigger obviously costs more money. While most are of the 2 BR/ 2 Bath floor plan, things like a dedicated den, Carolina room, and a lanai always make you think that more is better. But really do we need it out of the gate? They always say you're buying a lifestyle, not necessarily a new home, like we did when we first started out before kids were born. And more room and a bigger garage, well that just becomes more places to have acquire and display "stuff".
One thing that's a hoot when home shopping is the whole staging thing. In 55 and overs people make sure they clean out before the pictures are taken so it's just the bare minimum that is seen. There's nothing on the kitchen counters, the closets are emptied except for a few things on some hangers, there's no papers or computers, and things like collectables and family pictures are hardly ever found. They show like model homes rather then day to day domiciles. One of the thoughts we had was to buy small and keep it like it's a vacation home, with it maybe even be able to be rented out for the three-month minimum as per the Sun City rules.
One of the things we liked about our next home, okay vomit in my mouth, is the setting and location. Woods behind us, although who knows what will become of that swath of land, and the open feeling we get with no homes across the street. And with no one across the street it's a great place to walk Luke without having to worry that he's always emptying his bladder or bowels on somebody's property. That'll be great as long as that body of water isn't alligator infested. I liken walking a dog on a leash near waters down there like crabbing with a drop-line off a bulkhead in New Jersey.
And while we're the smallest house on the block, which sits on a cul-de-sac ended street, the footprint out back will allow us to install our own Florida/lanai type of room. What's good is the
roof line can easily be followed so any type of room will look like it belongs there. In some houses we've seen they look like they don't belong there, or are out of proportion to the main home. A room like that is a must, especially one that's climate controlled, so you can enjoy staying out of the weather and away from the bugs. But one thing I've noticed in most of these two-person occupied homes is the amount of chairs, recliners, and couches people stuff into them. A small table in the kitchen, or not, stools at the counter, a dining room table, places to sit or lay in the living room, the same for the Carolina room, and then in the lanai and patio. How many people are coming over or visiting? Like for real? And most people have the second bedroom made up like it's an Air BnB. To me it's a nice gesture, but how much use are you getting out of it and what's the usage to square footage ratio?
And having been down in Cape May the last two weekends we know this is a must keep moving forward. I took the above pic as we walked the beach early yesterday morning. It'll keep us with some footprints here in New Jersey and a place to escape the dead of summer conditions the Lowcountry brings.
So we've decided to sell our cool Cape May place and possibly upgrade. A bigger place, a full Florida room, no more awning covered sunroom, less of a yard to have to maintain, and more sleeping spots for the visitors that really never come.
We found a place that could serve as "Archer North" as we split our time each year above and below the Mason-Dixon Line. One thing that's attractive is the amount of shade at this site compared to the 100% sunup to sundown sun that hit's our current place. It's on a quiet street and there's no houses across the street, which seems to be a thing we seem to like.
Of course both places need a little tweaking. Down south there's some carpet and painting to do, but that's not bad since the home was built in 2015. I think our last homes have been closer to being built in 1915 so it's a real upgrade for us. Up north the place needs to be aired out and lived in and a bedroom of carpet will need to be upgraded to the newer LVP floors they've
had installed throughout. And the kitchen could use an upgrade in appearance, so maybe painting the cabinets and a new countertop could make it a tad more with the times. This place would serve us better as a home away from home with more breathing room in the main space and in the Florida room. There's even an enclosed space for an office when we want or need to spend some time on the computer.
Of course, in my twisted head, everything outlined so far is just perfect. A perfect plan, well thought out and researched, and easy, while stressful. But this brain of mine has created more dumb ideas then most people I know have. I've been on the move, in my brain and in my person, since I started this adult journey at 18, in 1986. I see something or something pops into my head, I kill it with research and justification, and then make it happen, only for yet another chapter of said thing to end, or be sold. That goes from vehicles, to boats, to houses, and respectfully, relationships. But this time I've been doubling down on the Danny-Downer section of my brain called the pre-frontal cortex. I've even sat down with Theresa and said, "Is this another dumb plan or decision on my part?". So far we've been in agreement, which either means we're on point with each other, or both nuts.
And while the goal is to simplify, and start to live, there's a part of me that can't mentally get rid of being me. I believe the wiring in my head is off, which could probably be undiagnosed ADHD, or just signs of mental decline. They say we're made up by a combination of nature, genetics, and nature, experiences and traumas, that make us who we are. Well, reflecting back on my life there' been a lot of both, and one thing I look for to satiate my ever moving brain is chaos. And boy do I bring chaos, just ask Theresa. In recent years chaos has brought me to teaching and back into the hospital. And there's been plenty of chaos in recent stints on the floors and emergency department at Capital Health. But I've found my current time at Trenton Psychiatric Hospital to be most enlightening. I feel at home, on the sprawling grounds, with the staff, and with the committed patients, many who are criminally insane. Many of the charts reveal patients who are on Krol status, or NGBROI, or Not Guilty By Reason of Insanity. Boy, what does that say about me?
So the thought of waking each day with things in order without a ton of things to do is anxiety producing. I thrive on going fishing, mowing the lawn, replacing a wheel hub (today's mission), preparing for lecture, going to TPH, then to Cape May, selling and buying a house, listing stuff on Facebook, and writing this blog, all within a weeks time. And while that all doesn't happen each week, it kinda does, the number of things remains the same, it's just the activities that change. Oh yeah, let's take out the heat gun and burn and re-paint, or start another project that'll remain unfinished.
So that brings me to the above slice of heaven I found down south, and so far Theresa, God bless her, is onboard. It would satiate by brain and my being. A place to go and be me, while checking off some big Colin-type boxes. A place to store the boat, "We'll be saving money". To a place to store stuff and keep it away from the home in Sun City, so no need for a storage unit, "We'll be saving money". To a place where I can set up a fly tying room and display all those types of things you don't see in people's homes on Zillow. So, by buying small, and buying this, "Will keep the house will be neat, and we'll be saving money", as a den/ office and bigger garage would have cost us more, with those spaces looking out of place and congested. How would Theresa have liked to see clumps of Bucktail and flash on the floor under the fly tying table in the 10 x 10 foot "office" or third bedroom? Not all that good. And then it could be a good investment, "We'll make money as well", or she will after I croak.
I also think it would keep me sane, and prevent me from being a "snook" like Ray Lotta said in the last scene of the movie Goodfella's. A place I can escape to, a place I can dress down and wallow in the dirt and grease. I could interact with "normal", well hopefully abnormal, people outside of the cookie-cutter bubble dwellers of a 55 and over community. And truth be told, I'm 58, the average age of people in those joints has gotta be somewhere in the 70's. Just to prove my point, check out the below episode of Sun City News. It's the weekly newscast for Sun City, brought to you by residents who man and woman the cameras and the mics.
Now I have no problem with people older then me, but I know I'll be like, "I gotta get the F outta here", and that place above looks like heaven on South Carolina earth. Now don't get me wrong, I'm looking forward to tooling around with Theresa and Luke on the golf cart and waving to my neighbors. Most likely we'll be heading to the pool where I'll have no problem stripping down to my Speedo and joining the ladies in the pool, "Helllooooo bitches". My time maybe even spent in the gym, where I really need to get back to, or in the steam room with the fellas where we can talk about sagging skin and enlarged prostates. Or maybe I'll break out my old Air Jordan knock-offs and get involved in the pick-up basketball league there. You know, I used to have a game, so the idea of bringing 210 pounds of twisted steel down into the paint and boxing some old men out could be my next reality. But truth be told, I've seen those active old-bitties around Sun City, and they could run circles around me and my out of shape and shitty diet eating ass.
And that brings me back to the old "Shrimpers Shack" I have my head and heart on. Look at it. No doubt the guy who owned when the pic was taken was living his best life. Under the garage is a skiff, and around the property are just good toys and lot's of beautiful rusted, unused, and should-be-in-a-dumpster stuff. Since that pic was taken there's been a fence installed all around the property. I like that because things will be secure beyond the gate and Luke can run wild and free outside of his leashed-up life inside Sun City. But the property has been under contract twice, so there must some trouble down in Dodge. I'll be on the horn with the town on Monday to see what's up.
Now, while beautiful to me, it may be less than gorgeous for others. Our realtor took a ride and visited it yesterday. The sellers dropped the price and I wanted to get the ball rolling. So, of course, she and Theresa were back and forth, and left me out of the discussion. And that interaction came with some pictures.
Oh my gosh just look at the inside of that Shrimpers Shack. A fly tying table, some shelves around holding all my prized knick-knacks, a computer to do my blog stuff, and a place to store my fly rods and gear, so it won't be in the garage at Sun City. Now yes, it needs work, but don't we all as we age?
What do I see? Potential, and lots of it, and lots of fun. T1-11 siding that is easy to replace. It's a blessing that I haven't got rid of all of my tools from up here, which will be put to good use down there. I still have my Estwing hammer, my carpenters belt, and my new-to-me if you remember, Thorogood work boots, so I'm ready to work after a mornings walk and before jumping in the pool with the bitties. I'll feel alive, in the chaos, rolling around in the pig-pen that this place could be.
That'll of course will not be a pig-pen after some Bob Vila type work, a good cleaning, and a new air conditioner in the Man Cave that I'll retreat to when I can't breathe in that hot air and humidity of the Lowcountry. But it's safe to say my realtor, a woman, a lovely woman, stuck a knife in my back as she reported her findings in a group text that I didn't see in real time. So you can imagine how this went over, like a fart in a stalled elevator, .....
So is this a good idea or me just continuing more of the same, which is bad idea after bad idea? But my question is, after having recently felt at home at the Trenton Psychiatric Hospital, wouldn't this be a great place to bury the bodies? I'm kidding of course, I just need a place to be me, and a place to bring the fellas to escape to or before I own the paint on the basketball court or share the hot tub with the ladies of Sun City. Lots of stuff going on, and big decisions to make. Right now it's 550 Am, time to start the wheel bearing replacement, the trip to the Vineyard is five short days away. Great timing.