Camping Exhaustion

We got home last evening about 8:30. It was over 100 out. We left the car filled with camping stuff in the driveway. Went in the house and turned on the AC. I found some dim sum in the freezer and steamed them.
I took a long shower. I actually had to wash, rinse and repeat to get my shampoo to work on my crusty hair. Dirt and sweat from four days.
Today, the dogs woke us up at 5 a.m. as usual. We put them out. They barked. We brought them back in. Checked e-mail. Paul conked out on the sofa. I went back to bed at 9 a.m.
When I woke up at 11 a.m., Paul had pulled the car into the carport and was unloading. I watered my plants. Dragged the enormous dirty laundry bag into the laundry room and began sorting. Sprayed pre-wash on the stains, including Paul's hat - uck!
Went back online and read some Open Salon postings. By 3 p.m. I was exhausted again. Went back to bed. The radio was on. President Obama was giving a speech. In my dreams, he was at Horses Help and I was dressing him in a graduation gown.
Woke up at 5:30 and made garlic shrimp and garlic bread. Garlic stuff is good and easy.
Why are we so tired?
It took us about four hours yesterday to take down our campsite. It was extremely hot and there were horseflies. It was good to be on Stephen's "property" but there were some drawbacks: the aforementioned horseflies, not able to build a campfire (not Stephen's fault -- we were in the San Bernadino National Forest and there was a ban on campfires). We mostly like deep forests and we were camped on gravel by a pond that we couldn't see because of the overgrowth.
We did have a nice hike along the riverbed that runs past the property. I seem to have lost my camera, which is probably not so bad except that I took some terrific (probably) pictures. Maybe now I'll get a camera that works for my birthday. Hmmmm.
So now, because we're so exhausted, we're rethinking our next camping trip, which is supposed to be in the Santa Fe/Taos area next week, on our way to Little Rock to visit Becky and Anthony. It seems like cheating to leave the tent and camping stuff home and just motel it, but ugh, are we getting too old for the tent stuff? We need another day of rest to think about this. Meanwhile, I'm going back to bed -- after all, I've been up for two whole hours.

The New House

Why is it that some houses become HOME so quickly. From the moment we moved in -- well, after the landlord fixed the water pipes and after Charlie peed on the kitchen floor -- this place felt comfortable and RIGHT. We love sitting out on the porch in the morning having coffee and watching Charlie romp in the front yard. We love that the house stays cool enough to avoid turning on the AC until the outside temp reaches 100. We love that the dogs have a huge yard to play in and we have room for a nice-sized organic garden (starting in the fall -- hey, we live in the desert). We love being 10-15 minutes away from school or downtown Phoenix. We love the enormous mesquite tree that keeps the yard so cool and shades the southern exposure of the house. I love that my "heat resistant" tomato plants in the front yard are doing so well -- as are the herbs.
I love walking around the neighborhood each evening with Paul and the dogs. Waving "hello" to folks sitting out on their porches in the dusky evening light. I love checking out gardens, and the way houses are decorated. I love that we're close to two wonderful city parks where we can walk the dogs and watch people feeding the ducks and geese. 
I love that my neighborhood is a mini-UN -- Philipino-American, Mexican-American, African-American, Native American ... that's just the neighbors closest to us. The apartment complex a few blocks south holds primarily refugees. One way you can tell is how few cars are in the parking lot -- maybe a half-dozen throughout the whole complex. I also know because my church adopted one of the incoming Burmese families. We filled their new apartment with furniture, linens and food before they arrived and then gave them clothes and toiletries when they moved in. I wasn't part of the welcoming committee, but I did go over with some items to help prepare the apartment. I heard they were speechless with gratitude. Refugees get 90 days of support when they arrive; after that, they're on their own. Which is why they go through the neighborhood on recycling day, digging through the bins for aluminum cans that they can trade for a dollar a pound at the big recyclers on Grand Avenue.
I put up my Peace Be With You mezuzah immediately -- even thought I'd had it for several years. It just didn't seem right to hang it in the old house. I did hang it facing the street -- I KNOW that's not correct, but, then again, I'm not Jewish. I am happy here. My biggest worry is that next year when our lease is up, the owner will sell and we will have to move. I don't want to think about that. Not now. I am happy here.

Dog Training Update

Who’d have thought that our dogs would actually graduate from special ed and begin to do impressive things. Like … Charlie heels when I have the leash draped over my shoulder – one step closer to No Leash! And … Lily downs and then comes up to a sit. Also … Charlie can do an extended sit or down when I leave him at a distance (in a row with a dozen other dogs). Additionally … Lily and Charlie both went tearing after something in the front yard this morning (while the ‘rents were having our coffee) and we “clicked” them right back onto the porch!

Time is ticking away until we take them camping … will they (we) be ready??????

Packing for the New House

I'm taking a teeny break. We've been packing nonstop for the past several days. We DO have a house and it's downtown-ish -- 2.5 miles away from the park and ride for the light rail. Yay!!
I thought that we'd be getting rid of bunches of stuff -- it seems like we did, e.g. 3 carloads of books to the 2nd hand bookstore, but we still have sooooo much to pack! Stephen is coming tomorrow night to help. Yay again!!!
I'm gonna stop and watch I Love Lucy for a while.

In the Middle of Stuff

On Friday the 18th, our house was supposed to be auctioned. It wasn't. We found out when we received a notice several days later, taped to the garage door. Fannie Mae now owns our property. At the bottom of the notice was contact information for a Realtor. I called.
The gentleman on the phone had a kindly voice. Good start. His name is Joseph. Joseph asked me if I was the homeowner. "Not any more," I joked nervously.
He explained that Fannie Mae needed to know if the house was vacant, occupied by renters, or occupied by the original mortgage-holders. We are choice #3. Being a Friday afternoon, Joseph explained that he'd fax the information to Fannie Mae, but we probably wouldn't hear from him again until the middle of the next week. That's now.
"So the sheriff won't be backing up a moving van?" again a nervous joke. That's what I do when I'm scared. Either that or begin sobbing. I thought the nervous joking was a more acceptable choice. Joseph, again with the kindly voice, explained that Fannie Mae wanted to be ... he couldn't come up with the word. Have I mentioned that in addition to kindly, Joseph sounded quite elderly? I think he's the parent in the family real estate firm.
I tried to help him. "Nice? Considerate?"
"That's the idea," said Joseph. Kindly. "Considerate. They don't want to cause you additional pain."
I e-mailed our attorney, Robert. Robert is also kindly, but not at all elderly. And considering we paid him a chunk of change to support us during this transition, I suppose he has to be kindly.
Robert told me to determine our moving costs: security deposits, moving company, cleaning.
Cleaning? Is it possible that Fannie Mae will reimburse us to have the house cleaned? Wow! I'd never considered that. Ever.
Maybe this move won't be as traumatic as I've been imagining.
After my chat with Joseph and my e-mail to Robert, I jumped into research mode. I found a really cool website that had a map of the city with "push pins" indicating available rentals. Position the map in the area you want to rent, click on the push pin, and a box of info appears about that particular rental. After about an hour, I got pretty good at it. I zoomed in enough so that I could see the size of each push-pinned property. That way I could focus on individual houses rather than apartments. I used to have this fantasy that we could live in a sexy downtown loft in a high-rise. One glance around the reality of our lives, reminds me that this fantasy will have to stay in fantasy-land.
In reality-land, we need a house with a yard for the dogs, some area for Paul's "science projects" -- outside, definitely -- he's been known to mix things up that turn extremely toxic (that's a whole other post for another time). At one point I was doing some painting on the back patio; then it got either too hot or too cold and I put away my art supplies. I'd like to have a place where they could live.
Within these parameters, we want to pay the least amount of rent possible. That seems to be about $500 less than our current mortgage.
We want to spend the next year and a half socking away as much as we can so that if we decide to retire after the 2012 school year, we'll have a cushion to support us as we figure out our next adventure.
So now we're in that Limbo space:  some boxes  packed, but more things that we're still determining whether we should sell them or not. The antique organ, the sofa bed that no one ever sits on or sleeps in, boxes of books that we hauled from Delaware but never unpacked, the Mac equipment for editing videos -- now well over 10 years old, a dinosaur in the world of technology.
Today we're looking at rental properties. I hope we find one that we like and whose landlord approves us, warts and all. I will feel better having an image of where our life will continue on -- at least for the foreseeable future.

Dog Training Update

It's been two weeks since my last post about the dogs, and I have a bit of good news. Despite still being in the "kiddie pool" of dog training -- the beginning beginner's classes -- our pups are making progress. And I'm getting competitive.
Charlie (who is my responsibility) has been heeling rather nicely, and sitting at my side the moment I stop moving. This is a huge improvement from the first class, where he jumped all over me, tried to eat his leash, got tangled in his leash (often) and cried over Lily being ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE CIRCLE.
Lily (who is my husband's responsibility) is much more challenging. Although she sometimes walks nicely next to my husband, she is always on edge (and still wearing the muzzle). The trainer had him hold a dog treat near his knee; when Lily focused on the treat, she became much better.
We definitely have a long road ahead of us ... there is always an advanced class near us where the owners drop the leashes and walk away. The dogs sit in a row, peaceful, statue-like. It's amazing and I'm sure we'll eventually get there.
In the meantime I have a confession: I'm feeling the teeniest bit smug because Charlie is the teeniest bit more advanced than Lily.

Today Was the Day

The notices started showing up the first week in December. Sent by regular mail and certified mail.  A week later we received yet another batch. They really want to make sure we knew that the auction would be scheduled for today -- February 18, 2011.

I pictured a fast talking auctioneer standing in front of our house, gavel in hand, surrounded by hungry buyers. I pictured us, cowering behind the garden wall, listening to cigar-chomping investors bidding $5,000, $10,000 … SOLD to the gentleman in the porkpie hat for $15,000! 

In reality, everything is done at the court house downtown. Our house is part of a very long list being auctioned today. And since today is the Friday before a 3-day holiday, our attorney thinks there’s a very slim chance that it gets sold -- because everybody with $$$$ to buy houses has probably left for their ski resort house already. 

I suppose we won't know anything until the buyer (if there was one) has the closing. Then they get 72 hours (I think) to notify us. Then we have 30 days (I think) to vacate. It's hard to get a good answer on this, hence the "I thinks." But apparently, more of these buyers at auctions are investors, who are more than happy to rent the house back to you -- at least until they're ready to do something with it.

So, we are now officially in Limbo. I feel like I should start packing or something. Or sorting or something. But I'm so. very. tired.