Showing posts with label my own place. Show all posts
Showing posts with label my own place. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 01, 2008

Raising the Roof

The house which is in the works for me to purchase has been vacant and unloved since February. I have driven by it frequently just to send it good juju and let it know that I love it. It has felt happy about that. So have I. We have a good bond, this house and I. I have felt sad about it being empty and there being no sign of work being done on it to get it ready for sale.

Suddenly, last Monday, 6/23/08, I drove past the house and there were men on the roof. They were ripping off the three layers of roofing to get ready for the new, modern, up-to-code roof. I felt excited. So did the house.
Work Begins!

As the week progressed, the roof got more bare until, by Thursday, the original timbers were visible.
Dave – the Best Man to Have on My Job!

The wood is old and dry, fragile and brittle in some areas. In some places, the 2x4s were corroded and some were completely gone. I climbed the ladder to be able to see the entire roof and attic area. Incredible!
Up the Ladder to the Roof

Sky Through the Timbers

By the end of work yesterday, the roof was completely sheeted and ready for the new shingles. They have removed the extra chimney that is no longer of use and have shored up the rafters.
Strengthened and Secured

Ready to be Sheathed

They have reframed the areas that were weak and missing and the house has a new top.
Looking Beautiful

I feel excited to see work being done. I feel hopeful and scared, all at once, that my own place is coming together. Soon I will be at the final decision-making point wherein I have to stand firm on whether I am purchasing it or not. Right now, I get to do all the fun parts... picking shingles and gutters, choosing paint colors and cabinetry, deciding on bathtubs and doors. That part is fun. And it will be beautiful when it is complete. A place I can really call Home.

I am scared of when the time comes to sign on the line. Then I am fully responsible for the upkeep of this place and the payment of the mortgage. I feel scared when I look at the 30 years of being responsible for a high mortgage payment month in, month out. And, I feel excited and have a sense of liberation.

I CAN do this. I CAN have my own place. I CAN pay the mortgage monthly and easefully. I CAN!

Saturday, May 10, 2008


My daughter and I are house/cat sitting for my good friends and we have settled in, much like we did at my brother's house over Christmas. My friends' home is exactly like what I am looking for... a small bungalow cottage with a huge front porch and hardwood floors. I love it here and love being back in the city proper, without a half-hour drive each direction to get anywhere.

Last night, another of my good friends came to hang out with us and watch a dvd. I don't remember the last time I had a friend over to visit, even when I was not living with my dad. It was fun to laugh with her and just relax in a space that already feels like my own, although it is only temporary for a week.

I look forward to the time when a space such as this is my own to call home. I feel excited because it seems it could be just around the next bend...

Thursday, April 03, 2008


...on my shoulders, makes me happy-y-y-y-y-y

John Denver... he was an amazing folk singer. I miss him, even though I didn't know him. It is sad to think that he will never perform again. And, gee! I didn't intend to go this direction...

Truly, though, I am so happy to see this amazing bright, white sunshine in the spotless sky. I felt happy - and blinded - driving into the sunrise this morning and grateful for all that I have been blessed with.

I heard myself thinking, as I drove, I am so grateful for this home I live in. It has exactly what I need. It is exactly what I can afford. I love that it has two bedrooms upstairs and two downstairs because now I can move my healing space and business office into my home. There is room down there too for Reiki parties. I am so amazed at how blessed I am. This is EXACTLY what I was looking for!

I was curious about this because, as you know, I am living in a petite guest room. All of a sudden, though, there was this assurance that my own place is real. It's just waiting for me. Or rather, it's more like it is getting ready for me. It is there. And I can feel it. I can see it. I experience it.

I feel excited about that and feel myself wanting to rush ahead... to make it happen right now. That has always been my challenge, to allow everything to happen in divine timing. Being a visionary, I am able to see things for myself and want them right then. In the past, and lacking patience, I have struggled with what will be and have strangled the divinity out of it through the battle to make it MINE! NOW!

So... in this moment, I choose to breathe. Consciously breathe. In real deep and out long and slow. Right now, that is all I know because it keeps me present and helps me remain in trust. I trust that the Universe is enrolled in my life and is supporting me. I trust that God is providing for me. I trust that my intuitive nudges are leading me to where I am meant to be, to who I am meant to be.

YAY! I feel HAPPY!

Saturday, February 16, 2008

What About Bob?

I am Baby Steppin' through my life.
I am Baby Steppin' through this house purchase.
I am Baby Steppin' toward my dreams.
I feel really scared and happy and excited.
So awesome!

Friday, February 15, 2008

Out of My Mind

Things are moving forward with my house purchase. I keep hearing myself say, "I am scared out of my mind." Last weekend, I said it so many times that I actually stopped mid-sentence at one point and really listened to what I was saying.

I am scared out of my mind.

I got curious about that. Scared out of my mind? Perhaps that is exactly where I need to be on this... out of my mind.

When I get scared, I have a tendency to crawl right up in my brain and stay there, analyzing and planning for all of the "what ifs" and such. It is a great distraction from my fear and keeps me stuck in the fear and away from that which I really want.

So, yes, I welcome the "scared out of my mind" way of being right now. It is a radically different approach from me that is keeping me solidly in my body, where I am present for every single decision that needs to be made. It also opens space for me to tap into my intuition.

My brain is terrified. My body and intuition, however, are one hundred percent certain that I am doing the right thing and everything is going to be okay in the end.

So, I commit to being scared out of my mind and going forward anyway.


Tuesday, January 29, 2008

A Plan

There is a concrete plan for acquiring my own place now. I am no longer as afraid as I was yesterday because it seems do-able, less huge and closer to possible/probable than anything I have pondered.

My former husband and his wife closed on their house yesterday and are moving this weekend. She is ecstatic because she will have a bathtub, finally, and a bathroom to call all her own. We women seem to be so easily pleased ("seem" being the operative word there). He approached me last night with some ideas that took my breath away. I was surprised to witness the intensity in which all my old patterns flew to the surface and fought for the right to overrule. Here are some of the things I noticed in myself:

He is trying to get something over me. This is a trap of some sort.

I can't do this. I'm not ever going to be able to do this.

How come everyone else gets to have their dream houses and I get to settle for a petite guest room in my father's house?

I don't understand what he is saying. I don't understand money. I never understand money. I'm never going to understand money.



It was when I thought that that I broke through. I started doing reflective listening... "Okay, so let me see if I understand what you are saying. You are going to upgrade the upstairs of the house and put it on the market then. At that point, you will offer it to me to purchase at cost to get your investment partner bought out. I will qualify for the original loan on the house as it is, which will get my feet, at least, into the housing market. You are willing to forfeit your equity to keep the loan affordable for me. Then, I will be in a house in about 60-90 days that is completed upstairs and unfinished downstairs."

Once I started actually participating in the conversation, talking with him instead of staring straight ahead like a deer caught in headlights and absorbing absolutely nothing, I actually understood what the hell he was talking about. Once I became willing to think that, perhaps, I could just - maybe - understand all this money talk, I actually did start to understand all this money talk. Once I started breathing and moving and being open to the possibility that what he was presenting me was actually a step in the right direction for me, rather than an opportunity for him to kick my ass, I actually began to see that it is a step in the right direction.

For the seventeen years that I have known this man, he has always, WITHOUT FAIL, done everything in his power to make things right financially for me. He has always gone above and beyond to make sure I am taken care of. Even now that we are divorced (and have been for ten years) he is still willing to do that. He has always done right by me financially. He may have left me wanting in other realms, but I have never second-guessed him when it comes to money.

When I reminded myself of that, it changed the way I was listening.

I am continually surprised by how my fear, and old programs around fear, get in the way of my progress. It is difficult to get forward movement when your feet are hobbled with chains of what once was - or never was - or was perceived to be.

I have had an amazing life! And, truly, this fear thing stumps me because I have never really had any reason to fear. It just seems that I just DO fear. Even in the worst times of my marriage, when I was bruised and broken - physically and emotionally - I knew down to the very depths of who I am that I was safe. In the weirdest way, I have always known I am safe....

Hmmmmm... I have always known I am safe... WOW! I had no idea!

I love this blogging thing. Thanks for listening.

And now, I am excited! I am on my way to a place of my own!!!

Monday, January 28, 2008

Place of My Own

I began the process on Thursday of finding a place of my own. I called the mortgage dude - the guy that will have all the money answers - to have him start the prequalifying process. And I noticed that my stomach heaved and bubbled during the entire 30-minute conversation.

I am afraid I will only qualify for enough to get a box in an area where I need to be a tae kwon do black belt armed with mace and pepperspray.

I am afraid that I will qualify for much more than that and, yet, never be able to afford it.

I am afraid that the house I love is way, way, way! out of my price range.

I am afraid.

Oh! And, god! Apparently, I am angry too. Shit.

Monday, January 14, 2008

Magnetic Chaos

In my childhood home, this...

was not allowed. Mom thought it made the kitchen look like white trash people resided therein.

On the rare occasion that anything was on the fridge, it was one current piece of artwork lovingly created by one of her children and afixed perfectly straight with little rolls of Scotch tape placed on the backside of the picture. That was it. There were never magnets or calendars or coupons or any of the various magnetized ads you get in the mail. I never remember playing with magnet letters or numbers on the fridge as a wee child. Nope. Nada. (Funny thing... when my sister began having her children, Mom wanted to get her magnetic letters and numbers for her grandson to play with. Mom, eventually, opted against the purchase saying, "She is just so picky and doesn't let them do things like that," as though she could not ever fathom how that came to be.)

My father does not hold the same repulsion toward fridge magnets. I know this about my father because Mom went to visit him just before their divorce 18-19 years ago at his little apartment and there upon the fridge front were a few magnets he had actually purchased for his place. Mom made a comment about thinking he didn't like that and his response was, "I have always liked magnets on my fridge. It was you that didn't like it."

Me? I could care less either way. Actually, a few years ago I purchased those magnetic words that you can be creative with on your fridge. I'm a word girl so that was a big turn on for me. My daughter got butterflies. We had a blast for about two days and then it got boring and, eventually, most of the magnets ended up under the fridge. I usually have a positive saying plastered - not very straightly and adorned with cute magnets on the corners - to my fridge. My favorite is:

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.” ~ Marianne Williamson

And, when I get my own place, there will probably be things on my fridge again, although not as much as my father and his wife.

Soooo... back to that fridge... Dad and his wife like magnets on their fridge. They always have had a plethora of them. When they moved to Idaho, she made one in Relief Society that is a little potato. That particular one has always slid down the fridge front if you look at it wrong, being too heavy for the tiny magnet on the back. It has always annoyed me. This morning, as I was sliding that damn potato back into its space, a bright yellow square caught my eye. Now I am fairly certain that square has been there for about a decade and I imagine I have read it over and over. This morning, however, it bothered me. Something about it really, really bothered me...

It is a quote from the LDS Scriptures, Doctrine and Covenants and it reads: D & C 72:4 "For she who is faithful and wise in time is accounted worthy to inherit the mansions prepared for her of my Father."

Monday, January 07, 2008

Photo Opp

I usually carry my camera with me in the car, that way I have it whenever a photo opp happens. For some reason, over the holidays, I took it out of my car. I don't know what I was thinking. I imagine it was so I could download and clear off the compact flash. At any rate, I have had two photo opps in the last 18 hours that I have had to capture on my cell phone. Quality sucks, but at least I caught them... I posted the shots from yesterday in the blog called Trapped.

Today, as I ran errands for my boss-man, I got to drive up into the Avenues behind the Capital. I LOVE it up there. Beautiful, old original mansions and views that totally kick ass.

And, as I drove through this elite neighborhood on the way to our multi-million dollar residence that is just wrapping up, I passed a home whose front yard sprinklers were on. Now, if you read my post, Trapped, then you know we had a pretty big snow storm yesterday. Aside from that, it being winter and all, there really is no need for sprinklers. I am guessing it is a mistake. At any rate, it provided the most intriguing sight for the eyes, though. Their entire front yard was a glistening land of icy globules. The snow had clumped in round goblin-like formations and then the ice had grown on top of it. I couldn't resist stopping. (And I am totally kicking myself for not having the real camera with me. What photographer doesn't carry their camera with them at all times???!) Then, I stopped along State Street, in the old part of downtown, because Zim's is there. Their window display caught my eye because it was full of The Elves Themselves, which is a rage that my father's sisters are addicted to. Apparently, the makers of the Elves have closed their doors. Therefore, no more elves. Zim's is closing them out at 75% off. (I can't figure out why they want to close them out at a radically discounted rate, if they can't them get them anymore. Seems they should escalate in price???? Well, what do I know!) Their window display was captivating and I nearly caused an accident as I swerved to view them. Instead of killing myself and that pedestrian, I opted to flip a U-ie and go back to view them for myself.

I walked into the store and immediately knew why my aunties are addicted. They are magical!!! I could not resist a purchase. Since I collect Santas, I wanted a Santa one. No do. They are all gone. I opted for three Christmas elves Ricky, Isador, and Jackson. Those little guys will grace my home at Christmas. Then, I couldn't resist it. There was a little Woodland Elf that caught my heart. Leander will grace my home year round. I left with four elves for less than one. And I feel excited to get my own place so they can grace my space. I am thinking I will go back and get a few more Woodland Elves as they are great for year round.

As I pulled into the parking lot to run into Zim's, in front of me was the greatest wall I have ever seen. So full of character and crumbling history that I wished it could talk. It looked like some drunken mason had just haphazardly stacked loose bricks one on top of another, forgetting the mortar in most places. Where there was mortar, it was frozen in an oozing globe to jut out of the spaces between.

Thursday, January 03, 2008

Solitary Gratitude

I am alone and, for that, I am grateful

For three hours tonight, I sat in a hot bath tub until it turned tepid. Each time it did, I would let some water seep out to be replaced with scorching, stinging-hot liquid. I read my latest love, eat pray love by Elizabeth Gilbert – a gift I received from my Aunt at the infamous dinner a couple weeks ago. I read, for the most part, the entire middle section – 31 of the 36 chapters contained therein. I surprised myself by finishing that part of the book and feeling tears stream down my face as I did so.

I am alone and, for that, I am grateful.

My daughter is at her father’s house, probably snuggled in her covers and drifting off to sleep as I write this. My father and his wife are serving their God down at the Family History Center doing what my father says is the decisive factor (divisive?) in the ultimate rightness of the Only True Church on the Face of the Earth. He is emotionally demonstrative when he tells about the miracles in leading throngs of people – LDS and non-LDS alike – along paths to find their Old Uncle Joe or Great Aunt Mims. Dad says that, because the LDS church searches for, and then does the temple work for, long-deceased ancestry, it sets them apart from everyone else. He says that the extraordinary and outrageous stories that run rampant through the genealogy field occur because those souls are on the other side, impatient for their work to be done. Thus, The Church.

However, I digress. That is not the reason for my writing tonight. I am writing because I am alone and, for that, I am grateful.

The bathroom is a sweaty, steamy place now with the tangy smell of “processing” clinging to the moisture. (If you have ever been in a room where “processing” has taken place, then you know the smell. If you haven’t, it’s hard to describe. Imagine... sweaty socks on mushrooms.) I feel lighter than I did when I went in weighted with the day and worries and questions. It seems that somewhere in the steam and the tears, something released.

Midway through the 29th chapter I had read tonight, I suddenly realized how still the house was. I stopped, startled by the silence and the profound stillness of nothing. I almost stopped breathing. And, inside me, I felt the thing move that started forming when I stepped into my brother’s house. It pulsed alive and I looked at it, all sparkling and vibrant. There, in the bathroom, alone and feeling grateful for the serenity, I realized, yet again, my profound need for that very thing - serene space. I realized, yet again, that this year is about creating that.

I am alone tonight and, for that, I am grateful.

Morning Bumblings


It was 3:37 am and apparently the rhinoceros had escaped from the zoo only to find himself trapped in the master suite on the other side of my wall. My eyes flew opened and I felt disoriented for a moment. Then (please note the time) I heard my father's wife yell at the top of her lungs, "Honey! Open your eyes!"

As much as I had forgotten that I was sleeping here, apparently they had as well.

Almost two hours later, I was still lying here in bed, eyes so wide open my eyeballs felt brittle. I thought I would make the most of my time and see if I could turn around my quickly-tanking attitude. It is now 5:24 am and she is talking loud enough that I can hear her voice bouncing around the room and rattling in my head. It's loud, really loud, but muffled so all I hear is a grating female voice wah-wah-wahing like Charlie Brown's teacher at a level that is much louder than should be used when there is another person still sleeping in your house for at least another hour. If they were able to sleep.

Ten days of relaxation have been zapped by an incoherent conversation with my mother last night wherein I ended up feeling manipulated and a woman yelling at a bull in a china closet this morning. Apparently, my calm state of mind is so fragile that it is sent tilting all askew too easily. I feel angry about this.

Yesterday I discovered that my former husband and his wife are buying a home. They close on it in approximately two weeks. They need a home given the fact that they have three children full time and my daughter part time. Six people in a one bedroom, one bath home! The children live, eat, sleep and play in the living room, dining room area. The adults live, eat, sleep and coexist in their bed. It's time they got a bigger place. I am excited for them. (oh my god! what in the hell is she doing out there????! A pots and pans drumline does not a soothing wake up call make!) So, they will be moving in a few weeks. I am thinking it will be a good thing. Literally living on top of one another has got to be difficult. (note to self... reread last line.)

As he was telling me about their upcoming adventure, he threw a proposal into my atmosphere. "I am thinking of buying the old house from Paul, redoing it, finishing the basement and turning it over to you. Would you be interested?" One thing I know to the bottom of who I am is that when it comes to construction, he is nothing short of perfection. The house will be amazing.

I heard an ancient sigh and wondered from whence it came. Oh. It was me, deep down inside. It was me. I have loved this little home since he first moved there. It's a bungalow cottage with hardwood floors. Were I to live there, it would have flowing white curtains. Instantly, I wanted to close my eyes and relish the thought of my own little house. I require nothing grandiose. I just need my own space. And I need it sooner rather than later.

The smile that started at my toes was unstoppable. I harnessed her, though, because there are a few squeaky hinges to be addressed before the deal with the cottage begins to roll forth. Guardedly excited is the stance I have chosen to take while I keep my smile strong inside and hold space for this to happen.

I lived in my parents' home for 23 years, with my husband for 6 years, in my father's home for 2 years, in appartments for 7 years and now, in limbo, for three months. It is as though I have spent my life up until 12/24/07 living under, over, and surrounded by noise and then, all of a sudden, I was cast into warm, silent, bouyant fluff. At my brother's, I found my authentic pace and I thrived in that environment. After spending those days of serene solitude at my brother's retreat home, this morning's rude awakening was even more starkly rude.

I understand that I make of my environment what it is and I realize that I am living where I am out of the goodness of my father's heart. I realize that this space is temporary and for my ultimate benefit. I understand that, as much as I feel my space is being invaded, they probably feel that to a greater degree.

Prior to Christmas, I had thought that a house was simply a want for me. I thought I was piping dreams of fanciful wishes that looked like a house. I thought I was being spoiled and dreaming of wine when all I could afford was... well... water and I kept thinking about the old adages of... home is where the heart is and a house does not make a home and a home is not a building. Then I would remind myself that there are others who live in cardboard shacks, if anything at all. I would look at my finances and keep pushing the "move out of dad's" date further and further into the future. I thought I was going to be able to stretch it out to the end of 2008 before I leapt again.

I could have never guessed what would be unleashed by going to my brother's place. Upon the very first moment I stepped in there, though, something started shifting in me. I realized how noisy and cluttered and peopled my entire life had been. I realized that there had never been a place for me. Granted, as a teen I had my own bedroom, isolated in the basement, away from everyone but, literally, underneath everyone's feet. I have also always had a place to live, but nothing has been mine.

This driving need to be home is fueling my body now. That which I thought was merely a want is most definitely a need. I got clear that I require my own house. I don't care if I rent it or if I own it, (although, Mr. Millionaire would remind me that it is always wiser to own than to rent) I just must have a house. It is a necessity.

I feel scared about that because I have a story it means that it will look like having no money. Which, is really silly because that will be nothing new. By my own doing, I already don't have any money (okay, that isn't exactly true right now because I have my Christmas bonus in savings (while I am in overdraft in my checking account, go figure!)) but, at least, if I had a house I would have no money AND my own place.

And now it is time to begin getting ready for the day. I can hear them putting on their coats and shuffling toward the door. (I have not holed up in my room to avoid them. Really, I haven't!) This ended up being a lot longer than I had originally planned. I had hoped to get some exercise time in, but wrote for too long and now there is not enough time to cram it in and still get to work on time. Hmmmmm... something else for me to ponder today!

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