Monthly Archives: June 2013

My new friend Nytol

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We recently gave our notice to our landlord. We must and will be out of our Toronto apartment for September 1, 2013. Which means we must and will either buy a house or rent a place in Simcoe County sometime this summer. Blimey. This is really happening.

Or is it?

A few months ago, thinking about houses at bedtime (silk curtains, granite countertops and hardwood floors… mmmmmm) would send me first into a pleasant haze, then straight to sleep. Now, thinking about houses at bedtime induces me to take Nytol — an effective drug recently added to my pharmaceutical lexicon.

We just can’t seem to agree on what house to buy. What I love, he doesn’t. What he loves is ugly. And after ten years of renting, we just don’t want to rent anymore.

Which is why I’m moving (temporarily, I hope) into my teenhood bedroom at my mom’s Midland house in a week. From that tiny “terracotta”-painted (i.e. poo brown) shrine to my youth, I can help with my sister Alicia’s engagement party, volunteer, job hunt, go to the beach, hang out with my avó, and drive around like a crazy person in search of “for rent” and “for sale by owner” signs. My amazing mother will feed me and do my laundry.

This is my mom's house. Beautiful, but can it hold three grown women?

This is my mom’s house. Beautiful, but can it hold three grown women?

Mom, I love you. Thank you for being a regular reader of this blog. But I’m a bit scared of living with you and Geneviève. Three women, one bathroom. Plus it’s been ten years since I lived with a parent.

I started packing today and it’s harder than I thought. Just how many bags does one need for an indefinite stay in a small, storagely-challenged room?

I say indefinite stay, but there is a ray of hope in the vast gloom of this house hunt. JF and I recently set a drop dead date. On July 22, we will either make an offer on this house in Coldwater (which we both love — we would just prefer Elmvale) or choose a house to rent.

House in Coldwater that we both love. If only it was in Elmvale.

House in Coldwater that we both love. If only it was in Elmvale.

We’ve committed. Crossed our hearts. Pinky swore. But whether we will actually be able to make a decision on July 22 remains to be seen.

What I know for sure is that for the next few months, I will have a foot in both worlds. JF will be working away in Toronto while I try to start building our new life in Simcoe County.

Ode to Cantores

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This past Tuesday I attended my before-last practice with Cantores Celestes, a choir based in Bloor West Village that I’ve been singing with for about two years now. I walked into the church late and sweaty — clattering about the pews as I frantically dumped my purse, pulled off my jacket, and assembled my sheet music.

The women of Cantores Celestes, in all their splendour

The amazing women of Cantores Celestes

Finally scurrying up the steps to join the 50 or so women already rehearsing on stage, I paused to take a few restorative breaths and open my ears to the music. Being a mostly punctual person, listening to a piece in progress isn’t something I’d had the opportunity to do much before.

They were singing David McIntyre’s Ave Maria. Which, when you’re actually performing it, kind of sucks. The rhythm is hard and the harmonies aren’t normal. I’m pretty sure I look like Neve Campbell in Scream when I’m singing it. Terrified.

But standing there in front of my fellow choristers, you would never guess any of that. They were producing really lovely, beautifully cohesive, warm music. As Jackie would put it, a fitting ode to the feminine nature of the divine.

I’m not a religious person, but there is something very powerful about a large group of hard-working, smart, strong women just enjoying singing together. Sharing a purpose. And there’s something even more powerful about them celebrating another woman through song.

When they finished the Ave Maria, I took another breath and made my way to my usual spot in the third row, already feeling refreshed and forgetting the cares of the day.

Going to choir practice is kind of like going to the gym: getting there is a slog, but you never regret it. In fact, you leave lighter.

Actually, you know that feeling you get when you rock out in the kitchen with a wooden spoon? Well Cantores is often like that, but to Fauré and with a bunch of friends. We sing every piece — even the Ave Maria — with gusto. Kelly, our Director, puts every inch of her heart behind each concert. Which is why I’m sad that our concert in Perth on June 29 will be my last.

My work friend Tina shared this quote by Anatole France with me on my last day: “All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves.” I’m really going to miss this part of my Toronto self.

Silver Linings

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Still no house. And we’ve now officially eliminated Midland from our list of possible towns to buy in.

In other real estate news, there are no houses in Elmvale — the one location we agree on — that we both love. Ugh.

But even as JF and I continue to plod through real estate hell (at least we’re in it together!) there remains much to be grateful for. Unemployment has its perks:

  • Sitting comfortably on a TTC train, travelling opposite the rush hour crush
  • Reading a whole book in one day
  • Playing the piano loudly in the afternoon without worrying about neighbours
  • Staying in on rainy days to watch movies
  • Going out on sunny days to explore
  • Listening to CBC radio in the middle of the afternoon
  • Doing groceries at off peak hours
  • Wearing jeans or sweatpants every single day
  • Forgetting what day of the week it is

And that’s just the list I compiled these last two weeks. I feel like I’ve more everyday pleasures to discover.

 

I also have a list of things I would like to do this summer, assuming I don’t find work:

This is me at the 9th concession beach two years ago. I hope to do a lot of this next month.

This is me at the 9th concession beach two years ago. I hope to do a lot of this next month.

Much as I want an income, miss my old colleagues and crave routine, this whole no job thing isn’t so bad. You should try it sometime.

House Hunting — Not for the Faint of Heart

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Holy. Choosing a house is hard.

Our quest for the perfect home has now spanned four weeks, bazillions of google street view searches, and at least 25 in-person showings across about a dozen towns. Tobias has been earning his keep.

With guidance from our trusty real estate agent, we have bravely picked through yards strewn with debris, held our breath through homes that reek of cat pee, ducked into dark crawlspaces, and faced angry barking dogs.

Lately I’ve been spending more time with my new friend realtor.ca than with any of my human friends. Or JF, for that matter.

Remember our tale of two houses? Well, multiply that by three. We have:

–       The pretty house in Elmvale that’s too expensive (my Elmvale house from post 2)

–       The four floor, six bedroom mansion in Midland that’s too big

–       The lovely home in Coldwater that’s too far

–       The run-down house in Elmvale that has potential (JF’s Elmvale house from post 2)

–       The farmhouse in Hillsdale that doesn’t have a working kitchen or insulation

–       The expensive Midland house with good resale value, but only two bedrooms

This house has six bedrooms, four floors, and a butler's staircase. Crazytown.

This house has six bedrooms, four floors, and a butler’s staircase. Crazytown.

None of these houses are perfect. Not a single one.  And we have come within inches of making offers on them all.

This whole thing is rather complicated because much as JF and I have a similar vision for our future lifestyle, we can’t seem to agree on two important things: location and house style. I favour Midland and red brick victorians. He wants Horseshoe Valley Road and a “well maintained old person’s house” (his words). We may as well want different continents.

Woe is me.

What I’m trying to focus on tonight is this: whatever house we choose, we will make it a great home. We will love it, live in it, beautify it, host dinner parties in it, and be happy. Because that’s just our M.O.

But golly, do I ever wish we would get to the finish line, already.

Day Four of Unemployment

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This is my fourth day of unemployment and people keep asking me how it feels. There is no straight answer, but I’ll give it a shot.

Most of the time, I feel a sort of righteous freedom. A bit like this:

But even in these early days, every once in awhile I find myself wading through a quagmire of self-pity. Like this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p3KoJj4dz2I

On the one hand, I have all the time I need to write, paint, or learn to play canasta. Or at least I should — so far it’s been kind of hectic. On the other hand, I have no income. And because work is important to me, I currently feel a bit rudderless.

I’m realizing that doubt and leaps of faith are a package deal.

Until last Friday, I had the privilege of working for a fantastic non-profit filled with lovely people. When I handed in my letter of resignation, I knew I was leaving a damn good thing. But that didn’t make actually walking out the office doors, boxes in tow, any easier.

Sometimes when I contemplate unemployment, all my brain can think is “holy fuuuuuuudge!” Except I don’t say fudge.

When that happens, I force myself to remember two things:

1)   I left because I’m chasing a simpler, quieter life

2)   So few people have the privilege of self-imposed unemployment

This time between jobs is a rare opportunity. To ride the TTC in the middle of the afternoon, read a hundred romance novels, and focus on what I really want from my life.

So, in the words of Joanna King (my heroine, who picked up and moved to her hometown in Newfoundland a few years back), my “job” is to enjoy it.

Easier said than done, but I’m working on it.

A Nu Start

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About a week ago, a miracle occurred. JF, the most cautious and indecisive man I know, bought a car over his lunch hour.

I guess it wasn’t exactly an impulse buy. He’d been thinking about buying a Honda Fit for two years. He’d compared their re-sale value, fuel efficiency, and many other car features (clearly, I am a car expert) against several comparable options in massive spreadsheets.

But still, the fact that he was able to test drive a car and offer a down payment in the span of an hour has my mind totally boggled. It was incredibly out of character, in a good way.

Most endearingly of all, he bought the car for me. I’m one lucky lady.

Tobias and I, out on the town.

Tobias and I, out on the town.

I’m not surprised that JF would buy me a car. Neither is anyone who knows JF well. The whole matter is sticky sweet, just like him.

That said you should all know that JF gets something out of this too. You see (as Marj Dubeau pointed out) there is no TTC in Elmvale. Had JF not bought me a car, he would have been stuck with a very bored, rather dependent, potentially stir-crazy, highly obnoxious partner.

Or I could have biked everywhere.  Come to think of it, I probably should have given the whole bike thing a shot. Oh well, too late now.

We’ve decided to name the car Tobias, as a tribute to the Arrested Development character’s Blue Man Group days. Not only is it a vibrant blue, it’s very gay, in the jolly sense of the word. And no, we’re not planning to purchase a vanity plate.

So far, Tobias and I are like two five year olds in a park — instant best friends. I love him. He loves me. It’s love all around. And I can’t wait for you to meet him.

A Tale of Two Houses

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When JF and I first set out to meet Kevin, our real estate agent, it was the best of times. In fact, I was convinced we were going to find our house that morning. Having watched plenty of HGTV, I knew I could turn any fixer-upper into a masterpiece. All I needed was imagination, a bit of money, and two weeks.

The three of us sat down at the Elmvale Tim Hortons (which is apparently where shit gets done in Springwater Township) to talk about what we wanted in a home. I oozed enthusiasm and expectations. Kevin played it pretty cool.

As we pulled up to the first one, I was literally bouncing in my seat. It was beautiful. A quiet country road, acres and acres of field, a rustic barn, and a pretty, two-storey, red brick victorian. It even had a lilac tree.

As soon we opened the door, I was overwhelmed by an interesting, earthy, wet wool smell. The living room featured a pea green carpet I originally thought was polka dotted — turns out it was mould. The kitchen was okay, if you don’t care for running water. One bedroom had a ceiling fan with coca-cola bottles for blades. Another had a hole in the floor, convenient for reaching into the kitchen. Several walls were buckling from a leak in the roof. Best of all, this place was at the top of our price range. I left feeling dispirited.

It’s now several weeks later and we’ve seen houses all over Simcoe County. My skin is thicker. I feel older and wiser. And JF and I have come to a few basic conclusions:

  • To protect our relationship and sanity, we don’t want a giant project.
  • We can’t afford a real country house (with good land) that doesn’t need to be gutted. So we’re going to shelf that dream for later and start with a house in town.
  • We want something we can add a little value to.
  • We don’t want to be house poor.
  • We still want three bedrooms and some good yard space.

That leads me to our current dilemma. Our tale of two houses. At this juncture, JF likes one Elmvale house. I like another Elmvale house. Here is my unbiased assessment of both.

JF's house

JF’s house. Still pretty cute.

Good things about his house:

  • Great yard
  • Three bathrooms, four bedrooms
  • Big kitchen
  • Garage

Bad things about his house:

  • Weird, ugly floors
  • Dirty and covered in pet hair
  • Smelly basement
  • Located on a busy street
  • Dark
  • Crappy layout
My house. Even cuter.

My house. Even cuter.

Good things about my house:

  • All new electrical and plumbing
  • Historic home, gorgeous top to bottom
  • Move in ready
  • Nice, private yard
  • Great location on a quiet street

Bad things about my house:

  • No garage (buildable)
  • Leaky basement (but at least it’s not pretending to have a finished basement like JF’s house)
  • Currently only has two bedrooms (I have a plan to add a third)
  • No air conditioning (easy fix)

We are going to try to resolve this showcase showdown tomorrow. We’re looking at a few more houses in Coldwater and Hillsdale. Maybe we’ll find one we both love. Or maybe we won’t and we’ll fight to see whose Elmvale house prevails.  I like a good row now and again.