February 25, 2009

1:58 p.m.

Back Home, Back Pain, and Meanwhile, Back on the Farm...

I was working in my bedroom/office nook yesterday, minding my own business, when I started to smell something like someone in the neighborhood having a fire in their fireplace. But it got pretty strong, and I was hearing motors, so I thought the Squatleys next door were draining the pool or something. I looked into their yard; nothing going on. I looked out the front window. There was an emergency vehicle parked across the street, and up around the corner I could just make out the flashing lights of a fire engine. Sump'n was on fire. I couldn't tell what it was, though. I went back to work.

Within a very short time the air quality made me get up again and look out the front window. I can't see up the street very far from that angle, but it was clear something was going on. I moseyed back into the bedroom and took a better look out that window, and saw the northern sky completely black -- except where red flames were shooting up.

The fire was a few houses up. I could only see it above a tall rooftop that stood between me and it, so I wasn't sure which house. But it was like an atom bomb continually going off. Two of those bucket things with firemen in them were hanging in the sky, with water pouring down into the roof. Cinders and ash were falling like leaves in our yard. All the buildings up there are big apartment houses. I hoped everybody got out!

I called Chris and Carol to tell them what was happening, and in the midst of our conversation the phone went dead. My landlady wasn't home downstairs, so I used my cell phone to call her mom to see if she had a cell phone number... her mom ended up emailing her and landlady called me back so I was able to tell her what was going on, and in the course of that conversation I realized that it wasn't just the phone -- the electricity was off. That means no heat at the very least, and I wasn't sure about the hot water. I thought maybe I'd better go to Rose's for the duration. Fortunately the fire was up the one way street, not down it. But there was an ambulance parked right across our driveway, with firemen going in and out of it and changing their jackets and hanging their helmets on our little fence post. By the time I'd puttered around and gotten dressed and made a couple more cell phone calls, it had moved and I was able to leave. I took a couple of things out of the fridge that I didn't want to spoil and headed over.

Rose and Marc had dinner plans, so Pearl and I made dinner for ourselves and had a nice evening. I ended up staying over even though our electricity came back after a few hours. I figured that out by calling my home number, and getting my answering machine. It was a perfect opportunity for Empty House Next Door Recon #2, and I found a couple more clues in the daylight. But first I have to report something else amazing.

Before the fire started, I was talking to Rose and she informed me that I would not believe what she was about to say. "I have a patient," she began, "whose daughter has a boyfriend. And this boyfriend is the SON of the old guy next door who JUST DIED!"

"How did you find this out?!!" I said, after picking my jaw up from the floor. Remember that it was just the day before that we went down there with flashlights. "And he's in Tennessee!"

It turns out, in fact, that the boyfriend lives in Kentucky, not Tennessee, and it's a long distance relationship. But the eerie thing is, this came up totally incidentally in conversation -- Rose wasn't soliciting information in any way, nor did she know that this woman had any connection to that house. The woman just started talking about her daughter, who was thinking of moving to Kentucky to be with this guy, and she (the mom) didn't think it was a good idea, and they wanted her to come along and live with them, and she didn't want to, and didn't think it would last because it's been rocky already, and her daughter is OCD, and the guy is blah blah, and his dad was bipolar, and anyway now he has to come up to CT because his father just died, who'd lived in Coventry, and he had this old house he never maintained, and blah blah blah -- at which point Rose interrupted and said, "Wait a minute... what's this guy's last name?" The woman couldn't quite remember, and when Rose said the name of the old man, she thought that might be it. "Was his house on the main road in Coventry?" "Yes, it's on five acres, tucked back from the road," etc. Rose realized that was the house next door. And the son is coming up next month to deal with it.

So Rose asked the woman to please ask her daughter to tell the boyfriend, that if/when the time comes that he wants to sell it, to please let her know before he lists it, because her sister is interested in at least looking at it, and they would be able to save realtor fees by selling it privately.

Now, Dar and I (and when I say this I mainly mean Dar, since he wins a lot more bread than I do) are not ready to plunk a down payment down on a house. There have been major, many-thousands expenses in the last two months for medical and other things, and there is currently no nut with which to plant this tree.

However:

a) it's going to take quite a while to hoe out that house. Son probably doesn't have enough time off work on this trip to make it ready to sell.

b) probate stuff could still buy us some time.

c) this woman said he really, really wants to get rid of it... so he might not dicker too much about price, especially if, as we suspect, it's not insulated properly, needs new drainage on the property, is in sorry (but stable - 6"x6" post and beam) condition, and wants new electric and plumbing.

d) Marc had some brilliant ideas about swinging it financially. See next paragraph.

e) I want this house so bad I could cry (pending seeing what shape the inside is in).

f) Rose and Marc (and Pearl, for that matter) so want me to be in it, and all the advantages it would bring to ALL of us, that they'll do whatever they can to help it happen.

Okay. So I was outlining to Marc last night all the ways in which there isn't a down payment yet, and he suggested a couple of possibilities. First, we could make an agreement with the guy to buy it in one year, and in the meantime to pay the taxes on it so that it wouldn't cost him anything. Or, maybe lease-to-buy, the lease amount being what will cover his expenses for the year. That way we could be in it sooner. "There are plenty of ways to make this happen, and they're all unconventional," he said, beaming -- "and that is where I swim!"

I love my brother in law.

He even said if their old house sells soon, maybe they could do a short term loan for us.

Even though they just bought a Dynahoe.

HEE!

Now, on to Recon #2. The house is even more beautiful in the daylight. There was never much planted right around the house, in the way of shrubbery, so it looks pretty bare. There is nothing in the vast back (side) lawn either, except one huge tree. I noted that there was a cable around the base of the tree which is now too tight. I couldn't get it off because it's slightly embedded into the bark. I told the tree I would try to help it, and asked Marc later if he could cut it off.

There was also a broken up doghouse, embedded in some brambles at the edge of the yard.

At the top edge of the driveway, I found a torn-open and flattened grocery bag with some groceries still in (on) it: jars of mustard, cocktail sauce, and shrimp, and a small bottle of milk. They were never taken inside. Looked like someone left in a big hurry. My understanding is that the man was in a nursing home for some time before he died, but we don't know how long or under what circumstances he was taken there.

I got a better look at the detail work around the front door and all the crap that's under a sort of shoddy roof that was built off the back door. Lawn mower, a burned-out sump pump (Marc says there must be a water issue in the basement, and that regrading the lawn and putting in a diverting drainage pipe around the house will fix it), old moldy books, the odd glove, orange traffic cones, cracked shutters, an old Rolodex... a hundred other rusty and broken things. The back door doesn't close because the piece of wood that you step over to get inside is rotted and swollen. That whole back thing would have to be torn down. It's a nice place for an enclosed porch, though. And one would need a garden shed, as there is no other outdoor storage.

It was very cold, so Pearl, who came out with me, headed back after a few minutes. I stayed and gazed at the side yard, this long expanse of grass surrounded by woods, up on a little hill where the sun would shine on it all day. Good place to ripen tomatoes and squash, and plant morning glories and lilacs and a dogwood. I found the bulkhead door, in a sort of alcove and overgrown with small trees, and tried it. It was locked from inside, for which I was grateful. I'd probably have gone in if it wasn't, even though it felt like the wrong thing to do. This is not just any old abandoned house... and I'm glad I wasn't tempted to violate it! (Besides, it's probably pretty scary inside right now.)

Here are some shots I took with my phone.

There was one sign of life.

See what I mean? See??

********

The drive to Maryland and NJ last weekend apparently overtaxed my back, which by now is spasming. I found some hydrocodone from my last root canal and Rose said I could take one, so the rest of the afternoon is going to be slow and easy. It is helping with the pain by now, thank goodness. I could barely get out of bed this morning. Meanwhile I'll leave you with this pic of me and Dar from last Thanksgiving, taken in the parlor at Rose and Marc's. He's such a little cutie.