sell this house: offer accepted

We accepted an offer. It wasn't our original asking price, but we still sold for more than what we paid in 2005. And apparently this isn't common.

So now the fun begins - inspection, packing / moving, looking for another house. We plan on moving our belongings into storage and residing with Bobby's father until we find the perfect house.

a father's pride

Pride

This one goes out to all the Papas. I'm lucky to have three great fathers in my life.

These are the first in a series I'm starting based on all different types of families. I'm torn between printing digitally so I can play with textures OR screen printing on color paper. Decisions, decisions.

So what do you guys think?

sell this house: update

It's 5:30 in the morning and I've been up since 3:00. We received an offer yesterday - much lower than I expected - but have countered. We should hear something tomorrow...or today. Ugh - I need some sleep.

If all goes well, we'll be out of this house by the end of July. Oh my gosh.

The thought of moving all of our belongings has hit me. I'm never going to sleep again.

let's paint the town red...and blue...and pink...with polka dots

Our house is still on the market with no offers. It's been over 60 days and there is one couple who is considering making an offer, so they're asking for flood elevation paperwork, utility bill averages and flood insurance estimates...and it's all so draining.

So in the meantime, we broke away from the daily doldrums and enjoyed a childless overnight trip to our nation's capital. We stayed at our favorite B&B in Adams Morgan - Adams Inn - and saw Animal Collective play at the 9:30 Club.

It was just what we needed.

On the way home, we made a point to seek out the church in Ward 6 recently transformed by the artist HENSE. It's nestled in a neighborhood of cute mid-century dwellings behind a chain link fence. It's not located in a place you'd drive by when visiting Washington D.C., which is exactly the point of the piece: to draw attention and revitalize a potential new arts district.

It's right off 395 and worth a quick detour.
700 Delaware Avenue SE, Washington, D.C.

And we wait...

26 days on the market with initially numerous showings and an open house...but no offers.

So we wait. I'm already coming up with renovations we can do to our house to make it more livable in case it doesn't sell. If we hit 90 days, I'll take it off the market and make preparations to hunker down until at least the following Spring.

Feedback from buyers is mostly: they like it, but need more space and location on a major road is a factor. Unfortunately, we can't fix that.

Our realtor also received an anonymous message that the tree in our back yard is severely leaning and we should have it removed before it falls. You have to wonder...is this a potential buyer, a worried neighbor, or a tree removal company looking for business? Whatever the case, it's now added another worry to my long list of anxieties keeping me up at night.

sell this house: on the market

It's official. We signed with a realtor and we've had a handful of showings so far. Sigh.

Now it's time to wait...

chincoteague snap shot: Sawdy the bird carver

I've intended to compile a Chincoteague visitors guide for years, but the charm of the island can't be conveyed in a top-ten list of restaurants or tourist destinations. So in the meantime, I'd like to share a series of snapshots and portraits with you – just a few of the many reasons I consider it my home away from home.

The business laws on Chincoteague are extremely lax in comparison to most cities, so walking down any residential street, you're likely to stumble upon a table piled high in konk shells just steps from someone's front stoop, adorned with a hand-carved sign and honorary lock box payment system.

Decoy carvers open their garages to the public and residents set up galleries in their living rooms. All one needs to open a business is a little ingenuity and a sign to stake in their yard advertising their goods (okay, I may be exaggerating, but I can assure you it's not by much).

So it was no surprise when Bobby and I were walking down Main Street, we passed a house whose sun porch was decorated in a colorful spectrum of carved birds and a plastic red sign propped up against the window announcing "open." We hesitantly opened the screen door, peeked our heads in and began surveying the abundance of crudely carved folk art before us.

Petite birds glued to plastic bottle caps. Ducks painted colors not found in nature. This was no ordinary decoy carver as a traditional mallard or wood duck was nowhere to be found.

A kind woman welcomed us to her home and gave us the history behind the carver - her husband Sawdy. Beads of sweat rolling down our faces in the stagnant air of the sun porch, we meticulously inspected each bird until we had a few picked out and ready to purchase.

A gravelly voice called to us from the other room, inviting us to look throughout the house for more treasures. We stepped over the threshold and there he was, grinning with the few teeth he had left and wearing only a pair of threadbare boxers. Approximately 80 plus years in age, he peacefully sat next to an open window listening to a Mexican radio station – the salsa melodies emanating from a little battery-operated radio he had propped up against his chair.

He sat silently watching us, whittling a new piece as we walked around his tiny den where he had hung more decoys on his wall and carefully arranged vignettes on every available surface. 

A familiar voice, with a strong Chincoteague accent, bellowed through the tiny home and interrupted our tour. In through the back door burst my late grandmother's cousin - Katherine.* Excited to see one another, we exchanged hugs.

She turned to Sawdy and pointed at us.

"Do you know who this is?" she asked. "This is your cousin Nelson's granddaughter."

Yes, so it turns out Sawdy was my late grandfather's cousin (no relation to Katherine) and the son of renowned decoy carver Doug Jester.

* Tangent: Just walking in the back door of someone's home unannounced is, or at least was common. Growing up, I can't remember anyone knocking on my grandparents' front door. You just walk in and yell out the inhabitant's name.

When I walk by Sawdy's house now, I'm greeted by closed blinds and bare windows. He passed more than a few years ago and his widow moved shortly thereafter. 

Before I even met him, I simply adored his birds. Each one beautiful in its imperfections. The marks are deliberate but softened by the feebleness of its maker's hand.

And of course, after meeting him, I appreciate the effort this man expended in his later years when most seniors are content watching soap operas and game shows. As makers, do we ever stop feeling compelled to produce works of beauty?  

I hope not.

sell this house: the final weeks

We're getting close to putting our house on the market, friends. Just a few final projects to complete.

We both have such mixed feelings about the situation – there are pros and cons to moving – so we've decided to list the house and see what happens. We'll make the best of the situation either way.

So for now, I'll continue to enjoy our little cozy light-filled home and tackle the project I've been dreading the most: reducing clutter.