Edison House: A Soft Place to Land

When we landed our fine ship Galapagos at the dock in September, we stepped onto the dock clutching  tightly in our fists great lists of demands we were prepared to place upon our sailor selves; tasks that, as they were completed, would create a road of sorts to a financial future that would allow for another sailing trip of epic proportions. Having one successful round of cruising under our belts, we are determined to go round again and this time we want to do a few things differently. Now that we know how much it costs for us to cruise the way we like to (more than we anticipated), we feel like we can better prepare for our next go around. And that means we may need to take some risks, get outside our usual comfort zone. Because if we keep doing the same old things, then the same old things will keep happening.

Edison House. We closed during the big storm of 2021. Today. Built in 1929.

We approach these kinds of spiritual contract negotiations with our lists of desires clutched tightly in our fingers. These are the things we must have: We must have regular money coming in. We must also have a house to return to or for our kids to go to if they are in need. If we can get two houses, that would be even better. One of those properties needs to offer my mother a place to live if she needs it. Is that the final tally? Have we ultimately decided which direction to go? Looks like we have, and so forward, march. We need a soft place to land from this point we are jumping from because jumping into the void is an act of faith. We are in that space where playing it safe may not get us where we want to go, especially in a fast paced market. We’ll have to do something outside our comfort zone, something that feels risky.  It will be time to go with the heart and the beacon that it is, lighting the way forward. We call it ‘riding the wave’. If you are lucky enough to notice the right wave coming your way and you step into it, the energy will carry you home. That’s how we knew when to sell the Lakewood house. It’s how we chose the right realtor to usher us through preparing and marketing the house. And that’s how we would buy another house in the market from hell for buyers. We would find a wave and ride it home to a house that ticked off a number of boxes on our long lists.

How about that fireplace with its period flickering candle sconces? And the little ‘speak easy’ window on the front door. I love that.

Long time readers will remember that we kept our house in Lakewood, WA when le left the dock because it just didn’t seem like selling it was the right idea. I still loved the house and felt connected to it. The boat did not yet feel like home. Selling would have been seriously hard for me and it just felt wrong. I also thought the timing was not right to sell because I could see the market for sellers being much better in a couple of years. If we kept it and didn’t lose money doing so, then we would be able to sell during a strong sellers market that surely would be coming due to pressures from the Seattle housing market. So we kept it and we had excellent renters in the home for two years. We stored our household goods in a reasonably priced storage unit.

Coming back to the states, we knew the time was perfect to sell. The feelings about selling at that point were clean and clear. There was no wavering, no doubt, no internal argument, no convincing of the self that this was the right thing. Sell and sell now. Not one tear was shed because the feelings had shifted. We sold the house two days after listing it. We sold to a nice family with grandchildren who live close by. We couldn’t have been happier and we got a windfall profit by timing the sale correctly. We could check ‘sell house’ off of our long list of preparations for Little Cunning Plan, Phase 2.

I’m seeing whites and creams. This is the upstairs landing.

Money from the Lakewood House in our account, we began taking stock of the seriously low inventory in Olympia. It’s a bad, bad time to be a buyer in this market and we knew that. Very few houses are on the market, and those with reasonable prices have some kind of seriously wrong thing going on-like being downtown next to the armory or something. Nope. We wanted to be close to town because we love walking to town and Mike can walk to work, making his commute so easy. We wanted to be close to Claire and Dan, and mostly we wanted to find something we could enjoy living in while we are here, but that could also be used as a nice rental when we leave. The house you rent and the house you live in are rarely the same kind of house. So that was a tall order.

We looked at a few houses as they came available and shied away from each one for one reason or another. We would drift into looking at big victorians because we both love them, only to pull ourselves up short and remind ourselves we’d never feel good renting out such a place. We looked at a really lovely rambler out in the country. Then reminded ourselves that we would find better renters close into the city and that the yard was much too big for renters to care for. Another ‘no’ to a beautiful house. We also wanted to be able to pay cash for the house and then go back and finance part of it later if we wanted to recoup some of the cash for another use. So that seriously limited the houses we could reasonably go see.

From the kitchen and through the dining room, which used to be a kitchen way back when.

Rental houses are not the kinds of houses we usually look at. We’ve never been ‘investors’. We live in the houses we buy and that’s a different kind of house as a rule. But we are also wanting to live in our own space as we begin to take on big projects like the upholstery in the salon on Galapagos. I need a larger work area for that project. So the goal became, ‘let’s find a house that will work for us for now and that will make a fine rental when we leave. It cannot be too big or have too difficult a yard to keep. If it’s a duplex, that would even be better. Surely something will come up on the market”.

And very quickly, it did.

Just around the corner from where we live now, an unfortunately colored house we had named Pumpkin House, came on the market at a price that was moderately good for the area and the size of the property. Obviously they were hoping investors would swoop in and bid the price up. The house is a duplex with one main dwelling and a smaller apartment on the side of the house. With a finished attic space and full basement, there would be plenty of room to spread out projects. The apartment had a long term renter who pays on time by autopay each month. The roof was new last year. The house, while a color I would not choose, had a bit of style that I could bring out better by using color more wisely. The downside was the house had only 1 bath and that looked very small. And the kitchen looked like it was ready to have a complete remodel. A bonus was that the house sported a one car garage in good condition with a door that closes. That’s right, the bar is really low for garages in Olympia’s older neighborhoods. Hardly anyone has one and this was an almost non-negotiable thing for me because of property crime. Cars left unprotected overnight are an easy mark.

A kitchen remodel is coming our way. I cannot bear that tile. 

And now we were faced with either leaping, or losing out. Because the market in Olympia is ridiculously tight at the moment. There are not many houses on the market and decent properties of all kinds sell within days. In fact, we had already lost out on a really nice property that had several small houses on it. It sold while we were driving out with our realtor to view it. Lesson learned. Do not hesitate.  It’s not for the faint of spirit and if ever the term ‘you snooze, you lose’ were applicable, it’s now. If we even wanted to see this house at all, we would have to make an offer and have it accepted because it had renters living there a bit longer so the usual house-viewing rules didn’t apply.

This house is walkable to downtown Olympia, less than 2 blocks from the market, less than a block from my yoga studio, and literally around the corner from where we are living now with Claire and Dan. In spite of the ugly color, the house has good lines. In terms of the neighborhood, it’s an eclectic mixture of cottages, bungalows, victorians, and every other kind of architecture that you can imagine. Most are well kept, many are rentals. They almost all have gardeners in residence because this is Olympia.  I describe the area as Pacific Northwest Creative Funky Rainbow Friendly. It has a good vibe but mostly on-street parking, which sometimes makes it seem a bit crowded. In terms of an investment, it’s extremely well located. There are straight up never enough rentals available in Olympia.

This tiny bathroom offers many design challenges but I already have a vision. Including a pocket door.

As soon as the listing was up, our realtor was hearing from us and making arrangements for us to make an offer on the house, sight unseen. It’s worse than buying a boat without a sea trial (which, you’ll recall, we also did).  You just have to somehow ‘know’ that this house is worth taking a risk. To be clear, if we didn’t like the house, we’d get our offer rescinded and our escrow money back, but it’s a lot of work to go through just to view a property.

Our offer was accepted by the seller and we were stunned. Honestly, the competition was so great that we didn’t think we had a chance. So how did we manage to be first in line? Our realtor, Shane Klinkhammer. The man knows how to make an offer that is attractive and he knows how to move fast. We had the offer in the agent’s hand within 24 hours. It was all cash, no contingencies, no expectations of fixing anything on the house (but if big things were found in the inspection we could walk away), and we could be closed by Feb 15, less than 2 weeks away. We offered a little bit above asking; just a few thousand. And we put down serious earnest money that reflected the serious interest we had.

Upon their acceptance of our offer, the selling agent let us know that they had a back up offer already signed off on. It was for more money but the buyer had to get financing. That was the difference. We could close fast, and they couldn’t. So the seller would have his money right away. It’s not the way we like to buy houses, which seem like they should be given more time, but that’s the way it’s working right now.  We had to get the place inspected, have another electrician come out quickly to asses some older wiring in part of the house, get an appraisal all within a two week period. Shane kept his hand on the tiller the whole time, making sure we stayed within contract so that our position was safe. At the end of the day, they sold their house in less than 24 hours, before their offer review date, because we were able to come in strong and had a good realtor.

A historical find in the upstairs closet: a stamp from the Carlisle Lumber Mill in Onalaska WA where the wood came from. It was in its heyday in 1929. The smokestack from the mill still stands.

It was the fir floors, the coved ceilings, the full basement, and the spacious finished attic that sold me. There are just enough period details to give the house a bit of charm, not so many that modern amenities seem out of place. It still has its glass doorknobs, and the little peek-a- boo on the front door makes me feel like we will be running a speak-easy out of the living room. I have always wanted to own an old house and have all its solid history as part of the family. We are very excited to get moved in after a bunch of painting and a bit of remodeling. It’s nice to be in a position to get stuff done before we move the furniture in.

The kitchen needs completely redoing, as does the bathroom. There is one bathroom and it is the size of a boat head. So that room will have some design challenges to be met but I’m excited about those and already have some great ideas for how I will make that room remarkable for its size. Small soaking tub, anyone? We are considering adding a second bathroom upstairs if the cost is not too much. We can do a lot of finish work ourselves if we can get a plumber to get in there and do the important stuff right.

My biggest challenge will be keeping the yard down to a mild roar in terms of gardens. Basically this is a blank slate and I have hundreds of little plants and starts that I moved from the Lucerne Road House. Those will need to be put in the ground in the spring. I don’t want to make this property difficult to keep neat. So I’m not sure how i will solve all that, but I look forward to the puzzle.

A fun find in the basement. There are still coal ashes inside.

This house ticks off a number of boxes for us: it offers a nice place to live while we refit the boat, it offers extra money each month from the rental of the apartment, it will be very easy to rent the place out when we leave and have more income from the house, it has a garage for the car, and the apartment offers my mom a place in the future if she needs it. We can check those things off our long list.

There will be some blog worthy days coming up so stay tuned for the next installment of the Edison House transformation.

Playing with these colors. Looks better already. Even better if the porch eyebrow were that white color and maybe bring the white down toward the windows a bit.

Stayin’ Alive

Mike and I were talking over a late breakfast this morning. I was explaining that I had gone to sleep last night considering how many thru hulls we could get away with filling in and fiberglassing over, planning in my mind the best approach to take on that project and wondering if I could handle some of that work myself since Mike is back to doing a full time job. The other part of my brain was consumed with choosing fabric for the salon, perseverating, as I am wont to do, over colors, patterns, textures and fiber contents. It’s the kind of decision I like to luxuriate over for weeks. While I ruminated about that, Mike began talking about replacing the steering pedestal and rebuilding the entire steering mechanism because it’s old and needs attention. This project would involve replacing the steering pedestal with something beefier that would allow the steering pump to be up close and personal in the cockpit so it could receive regular love and attention more easily. My contribution to that plan was that if we were going as far as replacing the pedestal, I would like a folding steering wheel, please. He agreed. Our voices droned on over eggs and sausage and suddenly I realized I was feeling better than I had in weeks. Yeah, I was HAPPY to be talking about boat projects, even though I regularly recognize that talking and doing are two different things, indeed. It felt really good to both of us to be back in the planning phase of big projects for Galapagos.

That’s right, this is a photo of our deck, which is not green. In the Pacific Northwest Winter, to have a green deck is normal due to the amount of rain. How do we keep our deck so clean when we are not power washing her weekly? The answer is in one of the photos below.

I’m not going to lie: coming back home has been very hard. Yes, we needed a break, and yes, we needed money and to be with our kids through the pandemic. Galapagos needs a lot of work and it’s easier to do this work here in the United States, at least so far. We speak the language and we have all the tools and supplies that capitalism offers right here. All this is true. But the reality is that we are very different people than we were when we left the dock the first time and finding contentment in this kind of life is a challenge. There is so much emotional adjustment, not to mention the physical adjustment, to going back to living the workday life where you have weekends off. We are grateful that both of our kids have traveled extensively and they know exactly what we are up against.

Since we docked the boat in Olympia we have had very little time to spend working on her. We feel, most days, like we kind of just walked away from the life we were living. Sometimes it’s hard to even feel connected to that couple we were out on the open ocean. In the salon today I came across an issue of 48North, the one with my article about stopping in Canada on the way home. It felt like someone else must have written that article, not me. Since September, Mike started a new job, we sold a house (which took a lot of time, energy, and money), we had the holidays, and the country has political chaos and violence which affect both of us deeply.  Covid-19 and the shutdowns and general sense of unrest and dis-ease in the very air we breathe underpins everything we do, just like I know they do for you.  We are also remembering in our very bones how dark it is here. And how wet.

It’s a strange life.  We know we are doing all the right things, and to be honest, all of what we have accomplished so far has gone incredibly smoothly. Amazingly so. Mike got a good job very close to home, I have a job starting this week. Our home sold very quickly for an amount we still have trouble believing. We have a lot to be grateful for and we know it. But still, most nights I dream of the boat in some way.

I brought some fabric samples to play with. I have about 40 more being delivered sometimes this week. These decisions are either really easy (like when I chose the Galapagos fabric because it was pretty and it was 5$per yard), or really hard. There doesn’t seem to be a middle ground. I like too many things. The truth is that all of these coloful fabrics make me feel happy.

So today the sun was shining and we were talking about plans and it seemed like just the right kind of day to go down and hang out at Galapagos, maybe do a little tidying up and preparing her for new salon cushions. Days like this make us feel better and keep me from being such an avid doom-scroller on my phone. We started her engine and tested Mike’s new noise-cancelling headphones. Game changer! The drone of the engine makes people very tired and is over stimulating lots of times, especially if you have to run the engine for many hours. We would have loved to have these when we were cruising so I imagine we’ll be getting a pair of them for our next trip.

I call this look “PNW Who-Gives-A-F*** Casual” Did I comb my hair today? I simply cannot be sure. The noise cancelling headphones are great, though.

I don’t really have a cohesive blogpost to put out there today, but I did feel the spirit move me to post something, anything, to get back into the groove. And it’s nice to feel that little nudge to write, even if it’s faint and unformed.  It’s hard to do decent posts without the use of my photos application, which is broken beyond repair. It’s only one of the many ways my poor Macbook Air, which is old by computer standards and has been used in a marine environment for 4 years, is breaking down on the inside. So the photos will be pitiful since I have to take them with my phone and do a workaround. Kind of pathetic, really. But these photos are of a few of the things going on aboard Galapagos right now. I will market these as ‘raw and unedited’ and that will make them more exciting for you.

And then there is this side panel for the dodger. Has it seen better days? Most assuredly. And I’m not even bothering to show you the other side, which is one that I did by hand when we were living aboard before we left the dock. It’s LONG past time for these to be replaced and I met with a woman this week who is making new ones for us. Tremors of excitement! We will have windows that zip open 3/4 of the way so we can get to the winches. We will have cockpit sides that fit correctly!  It’s very exciting because we used these, as bad as they are, all the time out on the open ocean until we got into seriously warm weather.  Up here, they protect the cockpit from being soaked all the time.

The answer to how our deck remains so clean is sitting right there in the cockpit. It’s a product called ‘Wet and Forget‘. We used this so much at the house during the winter and it kept algae from growing on all the cement patios and sidewalks around the house. It works. So one year when we still had the Cal 34, we decided to try spraying this stuff on the topside of the boat to see if it would control the green algae that takes over during the rainy season. It worked very well. Cleaning up the boat in the spring was a snap. And we also liked that the boat stayed pretty all during the worst part of the year. It’s safe to use on all kinds of things.

The days are getting longer. It’s the time of year when PNWers believe spring to be just around the corner (It’s not. But you cannot convince us of that. After all, the hardware stores are selling primroses in full bloom now. That’s the first sign.)  We talk about coming back home to Galapagos to live aboard, at least most of the time, in the spring when it’s warmer. Meanwhile, we are back to planning and preparing, just staying connected with our boat and keeping that dream of sailing off again alive.

 

 

A Different Kind of Solstice

Maybe it’s the inner Druid in me but I really look forward to the winter solstice.  Especially now that we are in the damp, dark Pacific Northwest, I know that at least it can’t get any darker.  I know it will get wetter. One out of two ain’t bad. (That’s what I tell myself anyway)

I was reminded of another winter solstice  as I read about the conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn tonight. Two years ago, Melissa and I were anchored near Puerto Escondido and we enjoyed Mercury, Venus and Jupiter in a pre-dawn sky.

Mercury Venus and Jupiter over Danzante Island

Venus, top right, was spectacular. In real life she looks like a small moon. Stately Jupiter is the brighter of the two planets just above the mountains of Isla Danzante. And little Mercury is just to Jupiter’s left

I wrote then about our Cunning Little Christmas  and how far flung our family was.  In 2018, Andrew and Jill were living in Paris at the beginning of a one year travelling honeymoon. Claire and Dan were living in Ecuador. And we were bumping around the Sea of Cortez aboard Galapagos. It was a bittersweet Christmas with everyone spread out across the globe. But even though we weren’t together it still felt like we were all where we were supposed to be.

This year could not be more different.  Melissa and I are sharing a house with Claire and Dan. Andrew and Jill are only twenty miles away in Tacoma.  We are all about as close as an American family can get. And still it feels like we are all where we need to be. We have gotten a little manic with Christmas shopping; perhaps we are trying to make up for our small celebrations aboard Galapagos.  We are doing our part to revitalize the economy.

Our Christmas Cholla tree aboard Galapagos. It is still hanging in the salon.

Galapagos is snug in her berth just two miles from the house.  Melissa and I go down to visit her once or twice a week.  It feels good to be in the salon, or bumping around the shop.  Being aboard gives me a moment to reflect on my cruising life and make plans for another adventure.  But first I need to start any of the myriad projects to get her ready for another passage.  She is due for a substantial overhaul of her rig and other major systems. I’ll start in earnest this spring. When it stops raining. Whenever that is.

We’ve been good little capitalists this Christmas. Chungus the cat prevents us from having a proper tree. She’s a jerk.

Wherever you are, may the sun shine on you a little more tomorrow.