2009 in Review.... sort of

So it's now been sixteen (16) months since Hurricane Gustav demolished my home of the past sixteen years.  I've been welcomed into temporary lodging that is warm, safe and dry.... but no matter how swank a retreat, there's nothing like having a place of one's own.

I rode out the hurricane with my sister and her family in Zachary, but the commute to work in Plaquemine, school in Baton Rouge and back soon took its toll.  One night at my parents' house in Plaquemine (one block from my library) proved untenable.  Miraculously, a gracious offer was extended:  sharing a relatively new home on a quiet street near work, without the distractions of kids in the household so I could concentrate on my studies and finish out the fall semester.  I got A's in all three classes, maintaining a 3.8 GPA.  Amazing, since every minute NOT at work or school or studying was spent trying to salvage remnants of my former life--those not covered in mold--to shove into storage.  I had some help with the big stuff at first, but Gustav did not just hit me.... most of my neighbors, friends and relatives were dealing with their own varying degrees of destruction.  Some were hit harder than me.  I retrieved, sorted, cleaned and hauled what I could by myself.  Looking back, I wonder where I got the strength, but one thing is for sure:  I will never regret buying a truck.

By the time that semester was over, I realized how naive I was to think I'd be in a new place by Christmas.  The media kept trumpeting that it was a buyer's market in real estate, but I sure didn't see it.  People here were holding out for top dollar on even the most obsolete, dirty, ragged-out foreclosures.  I decided to go modular, but the price on modulars skyrocketed in this area after Katrina, and went up even more after Gustav.  I decided I could build a custom home for less and set out to do that.

The first months of 2009 were spent finessing paperwork with FEMA, the SBA, having land surveyed and subdivided for purchase, and appearing before planning & zoning committees and town hall meetings to get things approved and authorized.  I decided to sit out a couple semesters in order to deal with my housing situation.  I found a contractor who said he could build my 2010 sq.ft. two-story house for $160K.  I had the house plans drawn up by a friend for half what an architect would charge.  That same contractor submitted an official bid of $250K.  I was devastated.  I decided to eat the cost of the drawings rather than get myself in debt by going $90K over budget.

Back to the drawing board.  Cut down to 1600 sq.ft. and single story.  Hired architectural firm to customize one of their in-stock McMansion floor plans with an Acadian roof and Craftsman facade, which would fit better in my older neighborhood.  The architect was snooty, overpriced, jittery like he was coked-up, never returned phone calls, and had the audacity to leave the full set of my final drawings in a locked courtyard on a rainy night.  Unable to shimmy over the courtyard wall myself, one of my brothers obliged, but I decided I would never recommend that firm to anyone. 

The original contractor bid $220K on that one.  Ridiculous.  Spent the summer shopping my latest plans around to contractors who apparently hadn't heard about the housing market being down or the economy about to go bust.  A contractor who promised he could build a 1600 sq.ft. custom home for $120K could only do so if I used HIS floor plan, his plumbing and lighting fixtures, his limited selection of laminate flooring and countertops.  He also wanted me to sign over the deed to my property before he started.  Not exactly custom.... or kosher.  Another highly-recommended contractor insisted that I'd need 180 truckloads (13 cubic yards each) of dirt hauled to my lot before they could pour the slab.  That's $30K in dirt.  Insane.  I'm not in a flood zone and don't need my own levee system.  I accused him of trying to jack me up to Jesus.  His bid was $210K.... still too high.

Finally, I called a local contractor who has built a good business reputation, but whom my sister can't stand personally.  The decision to do so was not made lightly.  I ran the two-story plans by him first.  His bid was the lowest, but at $195K, still too high.  On the single-story plans, he bid lowest at $172K.  Doable.  My sister said she would not think any less of me for doing what I have to do.... just as long as I know that she considers the man a snake.  I love my sister, but homelessness is greatly overrated.  I hired the snake.

Turns out, I'm dealing more with his project manager and construction team than with the big contractor himself.  That's okay by me.  The project manager is friendly and from my neighborhood.  I goaded him into giving up cigarettes by telling him he's too young to look leathery.  The finishing carpenter is a young man I used to babysit and he's giddy with excitement about working on my house.  There was a time when he was headed down the wrong path at lightning speed, but now seems to have matured, mellowed, and is quite happy about the work he's doing.  He's quite good at it, too, I must say.  The contractor's secretary is sister to my sister's best friend.  His brother-in-law is the mayor that my mother works for.  The rakishly handsome construction engineer on my project is way too young for this old cougar, so I try not to drool in his presence.  I'm not sure how it will all work out in the end, but for now, I'm liking the fact that I somewhat know the people working for me and I'm hoping to keep things pleasant and professional.

This fall, there were more paperwork snafus and what I've dubbed The Courthouse Shuffle in getting all the permits, licenses, affidavits, titles, taxes, liens and abstracts for the mortgage signed in blue ink, notarized and recorded.  Down the hall and to your left... across the hall and to your right.... through those doors and up those stairs.... back downstairs and straight ahead.  Once all that was copied in triplicate and the originals sent certified mail to Dallas, I started picking out appliances.  If I get this house built with a strand of hair left on my head, it'll be a supreme wonder.

With all the financing in place, I can now concentrate on actual construction.  Wait!  It's Christmas again already!  No one wants to start a construction job during the holidays.... but my team is game.  All I want for Christmas is foundation, but it's not going to happen-- the weather won't cooperate.  They had my land cleared before Christmas, but then the rains set in.  Removing an old 1955 trailer home increased property values in the entire neighborhood immediately.  They got the dirt hauled in (38 truckloads, not 188 thankyouverymuch), and then it rained some more.  Good for compaction, everyone tells me.  I relax a little and enjoy the holidays with my family until the weather clears.

My mother is scheduled for rotator cuff surgery on January 18th and I have taken on the project of clearing out her master bedroom, cleaning it, painting it, and having it refurnished in time for her to recuperate comfortably without being jabbed by my dad in his sleep.  Three days and ten (10) pickup truck loads later, the room is clear.  Did I mention my mother is a hoarder?  So is one of my brothers, who was the previous occupant of said room and owner of seven of those truckloads of stuff.  In the midst of all that, my dad imagines he has a medical degree and adjusts his medication, with disastrous results.  I had to leave work to drive him to the doctor, who diagnosed him severely dehydrated and completely out of his mind.  His imaginary doctorate revoked, he's taking his meds as prescribed and forcing fluids.  He's also still smoking, but otherwise pinking up quite nicely.  Yesterday, I was up and down a step-ladder washing walls.  My back and knees know it.

My spackling was interrupted by the project manager calling to ask if I realized I'm getting a wooden instead of a concrete front porch on my brick home.  That irritating pissant of an architect did that--and moved a toilet to an unusable position--against my wishes.  We reached an impasse when I refused to pay him $50 more to modify his own mistake, but I was very clear in pointing out those two things to the contractor up front.  He just forgot to mark them on ALL the copies of the plans.  I went to knock heads with them, clear up a permitting problem at Town Hall, get culverts ordered for my driveway, and tromp around the site in my new plaid rain boots photographing the extent of the work to date.  Everything (except the concrete porch) was framed up for foundation, but a little more dirt is needed.  By Tuesday, they'll build up the driveway, set the culverts, and be ready to pour concrete by the end of the week.  Weather permitting.  It's 27 friggin' degrees here now.  Hell has frozen over.

There's been very little time for writing, as evidenced in my stress levels throughout this ordeal.  Writing is not just a craft or creative outlet for me.... it's therapy.  I can't wait to get back into a place of my own and settle into a good routine that includes writing.... and maybe a little standup for comic relief.

Speaking of which.... I'll share one of the little humorous exchanges that seem to get me through this stressful time.  The project manager, construction engineer and I met to look over drawings and figure out how to make my front porch concrete instead of wooden.  It soon became apparent that not only do I speak with a sultry drawl, but I also listen in Southern, even when plain English is being spoken.  I questioned why they were insisting that I put Hardieplank around my concrete front porch.  The engineer said I could plant whatever I want, but it needs to be Hardie to prevent erosion.  What?  What?

TRANSLATION KEY:  "siding" and "sodding" are pronounced exactly the same in Southern.  And "Hardie" is pronounced exactly the same as "hearty."


I'll post pix soon.  Next week should be a busy one.

Jolie Blond [redux]

Got a little too much sun & pollen yesterday, so I stayed up half the night, slathered in aloe vera gel, brain-fogged with Benadryl, and obsessed with tryin' to find a good version of Jolie Blond online.

I still like Balfa the best, though Sonnier is respectable. And I never knew Springsteen did a cover.... how the heck did I miss that? One look at Doug Kershaw makes me think two things: Diggy Liggy Lo! and "cajun mullet." What's your fave?

Balfa & Abshire
Kershaw & Sonnier
Springsteen

And I've got the giggles imagining what the Bob Dylan version would sound like.

Right Name, Wrong Price

Date: Sun 22 March 2009 at 1:53 PM
To: Clark Kent [not real name]
From: Bella Fitzgerald [not real name]
Subject: Right name, wrong price

I've been surfin' around online trying to find a rectangular jetted tub at a decent price.
Ironic that I ran across this one. I like the name, but it's too small for that big price.
(hold mouse over the photo if you can't see the name)

On with the search!

Bella

----
Face it -- If your name is Tonya, I see stripper poles, government cheese and jail time in your future. ---- Rich Ragains

_____________________________________

Date: Mon 23 March 2009 at 9:40 AM
To: Bella
From: Clark
Subject: Right name, wrong price

Too funny - they named it for you. I will keep my eyes open for one. You might even try calling like LCR or someplace like Coburn's - cuz even thought they push all the expensive stuff in their showrooms, they usually know all the lines out there and what companies offer what for the best value. I have found Anessa Whitehead at LCR to be knowledgable - you might call her and just tell her you are looking for a decent priced jetted tub, and see if she has any recommendations.

Have a great Monday.

_____________________________________

Date: Mon Mar 23, 2009 at 10:29 AM
To: Clark
From: Bella
Subject: Right name, wrong price

Dex and I went to LCR (Plumbing Warehouse) on Saturday. Lots of neat stuff in there, but there were only two in the showroom that had the look I am going for. One was cast iron and too heavy for upstairs installation, so it got nixxed right off the bat. The other acryllic one was perfect, but was over $2,000.

I spent much of Sunday morning surfin' the Internet looking for a linear/rectangular jetted tub for under $2K, and apparently there is no such animal. The closest I got to that goal was $2,018.00 with free shipping. Might be worth it, but I still have time to shop around some more.

Thanks for the advice.... I'm not sure how to sum up my experience at LCR on Saturday. I told them when we entered that we just wanted to browse, so I appreciated not being badgered by salespeople.... but then they really didn't notice when we were ready and we had to go back up front and ask for help.

They were knowledgeable about their products, though. I just didn't want to make them jump through hoops finding me a perfect tub when I'm not actually at the point of purchasing anything yet.

As for the downstairs bathroom, I've got my eye on a garden tub for about $500.00 that would be easy access, if not technically handicap accessible. I looked at those step-in tubs and they start at $9,000.00!!! We'll get one of those when the time comes--not in my budget at the present!

At work now and need to look busy.... later, gator.

Bella

__________________________________

Date: Mon 23 March 2009 at 10:40 AM
To: Bella
From: Clark
Subject: Right name, wrong price

Yeah - they do get busy in there - and the nature of the business is that when they get wrapped up helping someone select kitchen and bath fixtures for a big spec house with kitchen, 3 full baths and a half bath in the garage or patio, it can take hours to help one person. Sometimes if I know I need some time, I will schedule an appointment with one of them. But - I am exactly like you - I try not to make someone jump through hoops if I am not planning to make a purchase in the semi-near future - the tough thing about tubs is sometimes you have to know your specs--at least approximately--so that you can give it to your framer or draw it on theplans.

When are you going to get some drawings from Mickey? I'd like to see them.

___________________________________________

Date: Mon Mar 23, 2009 at 10:56 AM
To: Clark
From: Bella
Subject: Right name, wrong price


I'm hoping to hear from Mickey this week or next. I'm mailing off my first mortgage payment this week (due April 1st) and I don't even have clear title to the land yet! But once that's done, I want to be ready to rock & roll.... get the drawings, meet with the contractor, and have a slab poured by mid-April.

I'll let you know.... would you want to visit with Mickey when I go to pick them up? You're certainly welcome to.

A.J.

________________________________________

Date: Mon Mar 23, 2009 at 11:45 AM
To: Bella
From: Clark
Subject: Right name, wrong price

That - or better - you and I could spend some time looking them over at our own pace and make a few organized notes (room by room, etc...) that you could then go back and discuss. That way we don't just glance at them and start making comments off the cuff - sometimes plans take a little time to absorb.

Have you been through any iterations of drawings with him or is this your first go-around?


_______________________________________

Date: Mon Mar 23, 2009 at 12:35 PM
To: Clark
From: Bella
Subject: Right name, wrong price

First go-round. I'm a property virgin. A blueprint virgin. A construction virgin. A real estate virgin.

I could go on and on.... but sooner or later, I'd be lying.

LOL

Bella

____________________________________________

Date: Mon Mar 23, 2009 at 1:27 PM
To: Bella
From: Clark
Subject: Right name, wrong price

You are soooooo funny. I'm LOL too!

I want a little brother!

My sister Anna had a baby boy on December 9th. Until little Jude's arrival, my brother's son P.J. was the lone "boy" in an extended family swathed in pink and screaming with giggly girls. The lone prince for six years now, we worried that P.J. might feel threatened by the new tike. But no worries there.... he loves Jude.

So much so, in fact, that he asked his parents for a baby brother of his own. His little sister LuLu is great, he says, but she doesn't play soccer or biddy-ball or do other boy-stuff with him. Feeling a bit under the gun, my brother and his wife explained to P.J.--by way of simple math--the fallacy of getting a baby brother at this point. "Even if we got one now, you'd always be six years older than him. By the time he was four and old enough to play T-ball, you'd be ten and starting little league. By the time he's ten, you'll be a senior in high school focusing on graduation. By the time he graduates, you'll be finished college, married and moved away to New York City. And that's if it's a boy--there's a 50/50 chance we'd get another girl." So they agreed that a baby brother wasn't such a great idea, after all.

P.J. solemnly told me all this when my family gathered on Christmas Eve. "Tante Bella, I don't know what to do," he moaned. "I want a little brother, but I don't want to move to New York City!"

"Oh, sugar," I soothed. "You don't have to. And I think I have a solution for you. Have you ever considered adoption?"

"Like we adopted Max from the dog pound?"

"Right. You can adopt a little boy closer to your age--he doesn't have to be a baby. Maybe a 5-year-old.... that way, you can still be the big brother, but he'd be old enough to play sports and do boy-stuff with you."

P.J. was taking to this notion pretty well, but I could tell he was still just a little skeptical. Knowing his love of Chinese food, I went for the coupe-de-grace. "And if you adopt a little Chinese boy, you could have eggrolls and noodles all the time!"

He ran off to tell my brother, and a minute later, I heard Chance laughing. "Well, that's an idea, P.J. .... go ask your mother."

Another minute passed, and I heard my sister-in-law yell out, "Bella! You're warpin' my kid again!"

What can I say? It's in the job description of a bonne tante.