Homeownership: Off with a Bang

Or at least with the results of a bang.

Though, if a radiator bursts in a house and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound?

On May 6, I put in a bid on a house. The next day the offer was accepted. It was a short sale (the seller owed more than the house was worth), and we knew it was going to take longer than usual because the seller’s banks (yes, plural in this case) had to approve the deal. Thirty-two weeks to the day after the offer was accepted, we closed.

The only thing short about this sale was my temper by the time we reached December. May through August was fine, all things considered. Hoping for the Luck of the ‘Gate, I originally chose August 13 as my closing date. That is when the extensions began. I’ve lost track as to how many there were. Finally, at the end of October, I got the call. We would close November 26. However, there were questions I could not answer while I was in Israel. At this point I could still handle a delay of a day or two.

What I could not handle was the next phone call, advising me that I needed to bring an additional $6000 to the closing because one of the seller’s banks was demanding cash, and who better to bring it than me? I’m not sure the word “livid” adequately describes how I felt. Of course I had an extra $6000! And of course, throwing it at a bank is so much better of an idea than repairing the roof. Why didn’t I think of this myself?

I don’t even want to recall the final week. I’m convinced we had further delays because the short sale negotiator had to attend the office Christmas party.

The day arrived, complete with a snow storm. My realtor and I went to the house for the final walk through.

The white object to the right burst off of the radiator.

Indoor rink.

Master bedroom.

Fresh mud.

There were a few more phone calls, and I received some compensation at closing for the damage. I left my attorney’s office with a set of house keys. My first official duty as a homeowner was to shovel the sidewalk.

The furnace is on and the pipes are defrosting. When the new radiators have been installed, I will move in. Eventually there will be a “The Nightmare is Over” party, to which many of you will be invited. In the meantime, I have started moving some of the essentials.

My first road bike in front of my first house!

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Israel Trip: A Look Back

I was asked to speak tonight about the trip at the Federation’s board meeting. Though I spent time considering what I would say, it didn’t quite come out how I hoped. I decided I’d give it another try here.

As I have previously mentioned, much of this trip was about making connections. Some of the connections were quite simple, a-ha moments. I knew of the Dead Sea, but reading about something like that, and actually swimming in it, are two completely different experiences. Similarly, when I was in third grade (regular school, not religious school) we did a social studies unit on kibbutzim. I recall pushing our desks together to represent the community. Certainly I knew that a kibbutz would be larger than for child-sized desks, but until I drove through kibbutzim and moshavim, I had no idea just how vast they are. I never considered that one might be on the Lebanon border and be staffed by numerous soldiers. These visits connected me with Israel, helping me to better understand why the US Jewish community actively supports it.

At the Lebanon border.

Much of what I have learned in the past two years about Israel, I learned from the films we have screened for the Hartford Jewish Film Festival. Our opening night film this year will be The Jewish Cardinal. It is based on the true story of a man, born Jewish, who converted to Christianity at age 14. After watching the film this fall, one aspect I did not contemplate was that there would be others like him. While listening to a speaker at Yad Vashem, the Holocaust museum, I heard of a researcher at their archives who was born Jewish and later became a priest. This certainly isn’t a Nobel prize style discovery, but it helps me to see the bigger picture. Another film in the 2014 festival is Life in Stills. The subject of the film is the photo house opened by Rudi Weissenstein. Weissenstein was known for his photographs of the early days of Israel, including images of the signing of the Israeli declaration of independence. During my trip, I sat in the room where that happened. I know that when I watch the films again during the festival (these and many of the others that will be shown), I will have a stronger understanding of the issues presented.

Independence Hall, Tel Aviv.

Never before have I felt so connected to a group of people. Most of the others on the trip were strangers to me before we left West Hartford. We had such a wonderful time together and now I can truly call them my friends. Both in Israel and since we’ve been back, they have helped me learn, offered welcome advice, and even invited me to join a cycling group! These are all people I want to continue to get to know, which is a wonderful feeling.

About to exfoliate in the Dead Sea.

Overall, this trip connected my past and present learning. It connected me with a country 5000 miles away, and a community in my backyard. The experience was not one I was looking for, but I am so incredibly glad I found.