Sunday, January 29, 2012

Movin' On Up

Since I seem to be the constant bearer of joy around here (sick, sicker, waiting for more sickness, sickness makes me sick, etc.) i thought I'd share another joyful gem. I'm incredibly generous after a dose of pain pills, aren't I? (Oh, and I'm almost out of pain pills...this week just keeps getting better!)

One of the things those San Francisco wonder Doctors both mentioned (as did my new Rheumy, and my acupuncturist) was that people with Lyme Disease cannot be around mold-I can't remember why-hell, I'm lucky I remembered this much.  Oh, and the two docs I work with regularly told me I have a severe mold allergy, on top of it all.

What does this mean?  It means we have to move.  YAY!  Everyone loves to move, right?

Luckily, (in more ways than one) we rent.  We sold our home at the peak in California (2004ish) and joined the renting ranks just in time.  We have been renting ever since.  We began in my parents' home.  They generously shared their home with me, my husband and 2 kids, and a cat.  Right before we all killed each other over proper toilet paper roll etiquette, we moved into the ghetto. 

It was a fun bunch of duplexes, near our local Yucky Sneeze Chuck E Cheese, and there were regular incidents that exposed our children to a side of life we hoped to protect them from.  At the time, though, we had debt. We gave up cable, cell phones and extras for 2 and a half years.  In the process we also got rid of the last of Sky King's student loans and paid off both cars.

Then, things turned around for us a bit, and we moved to the party house.  It's a beautiful A-frame with large open rooms that look out onto a sparkling pool.  The neighborhood was decent (if a bit busy at commute time when people use our street to cut through on their way home) and we weren't concerned about the schools, as our kids go to a charter.

One of the flaws in this beautiful home is a sincere lack of insulation.  And when I say "lack", I mean, when you install another electrical outlet outside to accommodate the Christmas lights, it is highly likely that someone inside will see your fingers working outside, though an interior outlet. And, because of the beautiful exposed-wooden-beams-peaked-roof, there is no insulation on the ceiling either.  Which also means no room for heating and A/C ducts.  So, the obvious choice was to run those ducts through the cement slab.  Duh!

When you run duct work through concrete slabs, might I suggest you check the water tables first?  Because if the area has a high water table, and the ground gets saturated easily, that porous cement will fill with water.  And so will the duct work. One clue that the water table is high? If you have to turn off the sprinklers in 100 degree heat, because the lawn won't dry out, you *might* have a water table issue.  Another clue?  Rusty sidewalks. From all the minerals in the water that doesn't evaporate, no matter how hot it gets.

Now, we reported the "sloshing" sound coming from the heating vents.  Seriously, it sounds like the drum beat from "Jumanji". Any moment, I expect to see a half-naked Robin Williams being chased by a Rhino through the living room. And not in a good way. (Is there a good way?)  Someone came out, and said he'd report it back to the owners.  That was two years ago, so I am starting to lose faith. And instead of paying $300 to find out we definitely DO have mold, we are just going to go with the concept that yes, we have mold.  Now we have to find a place to move.

This is no small task.  There are some seriously demanding people in our lives, and it has always been the understanding that we have the Party House.  (Kind of like college, but it costs more now-same amount of peeing against fences, though). And in order to convince the kids, the house has to be pretty much better than the one we are in. 

We began a few months ago, looking to see what was out there.  We had a few requirements: Pool, boundaries for the right High School for Monkey Boy, hopefully a quieter road so Princess could ride her bike around.  Bonuses would be: a spare bedroom, a hot tub or master whirlpool tub (hot water therapy for me), and interesting architecture-we didn't want one of the many modern McMansions that have popped up in the last decade.

Finally, we found it.  :::cue angelic music:::

It's a ranch-style 2 story.  4 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms. Large deck for entertaining, huge lawn, quiet street with a few families with kids.  (My kids might actually get to play hide and seek 'til the street lights come on!) A vast lawn, a beautiful pool, and a sauna room complete with 8-person hot tub.  There are a couple compromises: the master bath is teensy, the master closet is a total joke. It's an acre, that someone will have to mow. But the kids are excited, Sky King is, too.  And the troops have rallied to get us in there.

I gotta say.  I always knew we were loved, you know?  But since this thing, this Lyme, people have come out of the woodwork to show their support.  I had two different groups hand-delivering boxes yesterday.  Two! And, one of the groups showed up carrying breakfast, all ready to help pack and clean, too!  I have more people out there with boxes (we will see you all today, I'm sure, once Sky King is properly caffeinated

I have been moved to tears a few times in the past couple days.  And that's not just because I'm PMSing.  Seriously, people.  If you are in my real life, you have set the bar mighty high lately.

Now, more than ever, I'm having to rely on others.  And for me, that has been one of the hardest parts of this illness.  I was never good at saying "No" or asking for help.  And now, (especially today, after overdoing it yesterday) I need my friends and family more than ever.  And I know you will all be there.  You've proven it already.

Keep an eye out for the invitation to the house-warming! Oh, and bring a swimsuit.  We are all too  old for some sort of "suits optional" debacle.

No comments:

Post a Comment