For years I’ve searched.
I tend to enjoy doing so many things, I’ve never thought of myself as having a hobby. As I’ve aged, i’ve found my life melding together more and more. I used to keep my work life separate from my social life separate from my family life separate from my church life separate from my… you get the picture. However, for whatever reason, that has changed. it seems like everything is one big “pot” in my world. There is no longer “work time” vs. “leisure time”… it’s all just time. So, as hobbies are typically a leisure activity apart from work and as it’s all just “time”, where was the hobby?
I found it.
Dean and I discovered a mutual love of homes shortly after we were married. We painted kitchen cabinets at one of our first apartments we were living in to just brighten up the space. We figured the $30 in supplies was worth it to us. At another space, Dean saw thru the mess of the space prior to our moving in and discovered what was truly there. We even painted her old bedroom at her parents for our time there for one summer… just so it would match our bedroom sheets.
She’s the beauty, I’m the brawn. Well, actually, we design and do the work together as much as possible. I can look for and find the “muse”. She can offer suggestions on how things can be done.
At each location, our scope would increase as would our “budget”. We always assumed that our work would increase the value of the property beyond what we invested. That proverbial “sweat equity” was enticing. However, the real reason was the personal satisfaction in doing a great job, creating beauty from chaos and learning in the process.
Our Scammon home was a family home from Dean’s side. We lived there free in exchange for maintaining the property. And of course, we did more than was required. Refinishing hardwood floors, remodeling the kitchen, building a utility room, lots of painting, some wiring (there’s ALWAYS wiring), etc. I’m sure we spend more than had we just paid going rate for rent.
On to Pittsburg. A 10 month project. Even more work. A fantastic 1928 Craftsman Bungalow (most likely my overall favorite house we’ve lived in). We bought low and sold high. But, we never kept track of receipts. If only we really knew.
I realized fairly recently that we have the knack of finding the “soul” of a home We’ve walked into many homes where we don’t feel there is even a soul. Call us snobs. Some homes rely on the people living there to have a soul. Some never have a soul. Or some are too far gone. 815 1/2 S. Broadway in Pittsburg. Dean found the soul. She always finds the soul. She taught me to find the soul. And, to the chagrin of my pocketbook and yet the joy of those who move in after us, the houses that “find” us, need their soul to be found.
On to Olathe. A city that began to boom in the late 70’s. Where the design motif was levels. Different levels at different levels.The devil split levels. I’m not sure there’s any split level home that has a soul. It’s like asking if there’s a heaven for pit vipers. There isn’t.
HOWEVER, there IS this little part of Olathe. One, maybe two blocks of “it” houses (for us at least). Dean grew up just around the corner from this little piece of heaven (though her childhood home WASN’T one of these “it” homes, save for that one bedroom!). So, we’ve driven down that street, East Cedar Street, thousands of times. In a situation that can only be described as the hand of God, we found the “perfect” home. It had a soul that needed to be discovered. And we were the chosen ones.
Once again, a 10 month project of finding that soul before we moved in. And then, still tweaking that for years after. We invested thousands of “for the love of” equity in the home. It was a repossessed house. The prior owner sucked the life from the home. And the debate is still alive on if the house “needed” what we did or if we just did it.
Regardless, we found the soul.
But, it became apparent that we needed to move on. No worries. The house will find the next owner to complete it’s “soul”.
We have bought and sold “by owner” without issues before. So, we throw a sign in the front yard. No phone number. No cut sheet. No big marketing plan from the guy who likes to “be consistent” in marketing. I was too busy working on things. Within 4 days. Yep, FOUR DAYS we have a full price offer on the house. Hmm. Maybe we should have done a “silent bidding” thing. Or maybe we priced it too low. We feel good about where we are. It’s a “sign from heaven” blessing our Westward journey.
And then we lost it.
I’ve wanted to blog about the lowest denominator for a while. And I will. And here’s the start of that story…
You never expect it to come from the appraiser. He’s an after-thought. He comes in, looks at the property and tells the bank that the agreed upon price is “good”. No worries. At least no worries from me. Or the buyers.
It comes back. $20,000 less, yes that’s right, TWENTY THOUSAND DOLLARS less than the price we had agreed upon.
The sellers ask for a meeting. They can’t “afford” pay $20,000 over market value (ok, whose market are we talking here?! I could probably find dozens of people who’d be willing to pay full price for the house! How does one determine “value”? It’s fake.).
We were already losing money on the property. Or shall I say, we had invested more dollars into the property total than we were going to get out of it. We were aware of that without doing any calculations. But then, a $20K hit?
I could go on and on about what we could’ve done. And, some part of me will always wonder. But, we need to move on. That “loss” has been cut in half. Though I may never walk the same again. So, the market doesn’t set the value. Some punk from Shawnee who has no idea of understanding, just cost me $10K. He could have stolen my 2 cars and I’d still be ahead. HE sets the “value”. The one guy. I have little faith in that system.
So, the hobby… finding the soul for others. Hobbies are defined as doing something you enjoy during your leisure time. And they often cost money. So far, this one has been costly.
And, as if we don’t learn from our past… 101 S. Belmont is yearning to be discovered and uncovered.
