Home Improvement

Last Saturday evening, I was sitting around the fire pit in my back yard with my wife and a friend, sharing a drink and shooting the breeze. It was a perfect autumn evening: cool and clear, with no wind. A bright, full moon had emerged from behind the hills across the valley my yard overlooks, and was now perched in the center of the sky, casting moon shadows at various places in the yard. We had paused for a moment, and all you could hear was the hissing and crackling of the fire. I gazed at the moon and the picturesque scene, and thought: “I’m really going to miss this place.”

I need a new house, you see.

My condition is not the only reason I need to move, because I’m at the point in my life where scaling down makes sense. I never enjoyed yard work all that much, never liked house cleaning (who does?), and don’t take much pleasure in house maintenance, primarily because I’m not handy. A smaller house with a smaller, flatter yard would be cheaper to maintain, and require less work to take care of. The by-product of that would presumably be more free time for my wife and I to enjoy.

MS simply amplifies the need. Our house is too big for one person to maintain, and it’s frustrating for me to see my wife take on all of the inside house stuff knowing she could use my help. The cost of hiring people to mow a yard that is very hilly, remove snow from a driveway that is long, uphill and curvy, in addition to a portion of a private road we live on, is becoming prohibitive. Navigating the three stories (main floor, upstairs and basement) is becoming more cumbersome, and walking on terrain that has few flat spots has become a problem.

I’ve lived here the longest as an adult, so my connection to the place is deeper than any of my other homes, including my parent’s house. When I left home during my early twenties, I was ready to spread my wings and assert my independence. There wasn’t any melancholy or sadness, and when my parents passed away a couple of years ago, any emotional attachment I may have felt with the place was buried with them.

This is different. Quite frankly, we love our house. It is perched on a hill, has a wonderful view of a the Connecticut hills, and the interior decor and furnishings are just about perfect. So is the landscaping. It’s the house our son, who is now 19, was raised in. It took less than six months for us to move into the place once ground was broken, and we watched every step of the construction process, from the time the foundation was poured to the time we moved in. A lot of memories, good and bad, reside within those four walls, and it is going to feel very strange to call a new place home.

What is most daunting, though, is the thought of moving.

Back in the nineties, when I was twenty years younger, stronger, and had two good legs, we moved four times within a five year period. Two of those moves involved crossing state lines. The first move was a grand adventure, but the novelty had certainly worn off by move number four, into our current home. After that one, I swore that if I moved again soon, it would be in a pine box.

So I know what is involved, and understand that this move will be a royal bitch. First of all, we have far more stuff than we’ve ever had to move before, and we aren’t in our thirties anymore. Plus, I have a hard enough time helping decorate the Christmas Tree, so I have no illusions about what I will be bringing to the table when it comes to packing and moving a home. Maybe I’ll get an adrenaline rush and surprise myself, but that’s wishful thinking. The safer bet is that the process of moving is going to suck, and I will hate every second of it.

Having said that, the idea of a new place is exciting. We’ve built two houses already, and it is cool to see the planning and thought translate into the real thing during the construction process. Plus, when the new home is complete, you don’t have to worry about stuff breaking down, or having to replace anything in the near future. I relish the idea of having everything on one floor, ramps leading into the house from the sidewalks and garage, wide hallways that can accommodate a wheelchair, a bathroom/shower that will as well, and a stairway into the basement that has a stair lift.

As you can surmise, the new house will be ADA compliant, and knowing that we won’t have to worry anymore about my condition making it impossible to live in my home will put all of our minds at ease.  We want to incorporate everything we love about our current place, and, budget permitting, add a few things we don’t have but wish we did, like a sun room.

Do I have to move right away? Technically, no, but the progression clock is ticking. I would rather be in a place that will easily accommodate my needs should the day arrive when I’m wheelchair-bound, than have to look for a place because I have a hard time getting in and out of my home. Planning for a move now allows us to think clinically and rationally, and leads to better decision making. Waiting until it’s too late makes the process more emotional and impulsive.

My self imposed moving deadline is 2019. The biggest issue confronting us is finding a piece of property in our current town that checks all the boxes, and doesn’t cost an arm and a leg. That isn’t easy to come by in the section of town we desire, and contractors usually scoop the parcels of land up when they do. I’d rather not be beholden to any one contractor.

I’ve pegged our odds at finding the right place in our current town 50-50 at best. If that fails, the fallback position is to buy a house that is is disrepair but has good bones on the cheap, rip it down to the studs, and fix it up. The problem with that, however, is there aren’t a lot of ranches in our town, and this might actually cost more than building from scratch. So we search, wait, and hope something will emerge. As a last resort, we may have to expand our search to neighboring towns, but would first have to decide if that would be better than staying in town and settle for something less than perfect. Hopefully is doesn’t boil down to that.

They say patience is a virtue. We’ll see. Hopefully, a parcel will become available and we’ll be able to build the house we want. A nice view would be a bonus.