Mom and Her Drill

When I first started looking at lots near the ocean, something became really apparent. Either you had to buy a pre-exisiting house, or you had to buy a big lot in a less-than-desirable location. (Think "marsh views" -- aka "your property backs up to a mosquito-infested swamp most of the year and you have to drive to the beach.")

Either way, this was more money than I could spend. I decided that the dream was to be able to WALK TO THE GOOD BEACH, and secondly, be able to afford it!

So I kept stalking the listings. Then I saw this:

You should have read the listing. It was hilarious. Basically lots of warnings about how it wasn't suitable for rehab (true), and when I called the agent I found out the following information:
#1. The house was sitting on a 50'X47' lot that had been "grandfathered in"
#2. The house could not be rehabbed past $5,000 or the new FEMA regulations would kick in (requiring the house to be lifted off the ground several feet and moved within new setbacks.)
#3. The new setbacks were 20' from the front and 10' on all sides. This meant that any new structure had to fit entirely within a 24'X27' box. That includes the exterior staircase to get from ground level to the front door.

Needless to say, combining all of that info with the condition of the wreckage, this was absolutely a tear-down.

But here's the good part. Not only would a prospective buyer have to tear down the mess, and rebuild a tiny house several feet off the ground -- they couldn't get a loan to do it without the bank requiring at least 40% down on a new construction loan that would have to be completed within a year. (I think it was 40%, if I remember correctly. Regardless it was some huge number and I didn't have that much cash.)  The bank would never have given a regular home loan on this mess, since they were going to send their own appraiser to assess the property, and no insurance agent would cover it either.

The only person who would be able to use this lot was someone who #1. had enough cash to buy it without the bank, and #2. could build a nice house on a footprint that tiny. It had to be bigger than the 1-bedroom 440 sq ft condos nearby to make it worth the effort.

Let me tell you what -- that poor realtor. Even though I told her it was the only thing on the whole island that I was interested in, she kept trying to get me to look at a duplex that was 80k more.  She could not understand why a single mom with 3 kids was so obsessed with that pile of crap.

If I were a horse in the Kentucky Derby, my name would be Roll Me a Fat One.

Honestly, I was going to attempt sketching my house plans in my art journal, however I can't seem to get into the habit. I'm too accustomed to drawing everything in 3D.
I'm still trying to get the hang of google's SketchUp though. It's more fun than AutoCAD. I drew this

I've got some ideas rolling around in my head about speeding up this process. Unfortunately I have to keep slapping my own hands when I start envisioning illegal money-making activities. For some reason my scheming always takes a turn toward the criminal. I would have made an excellent pirate. :/

Does anyone else daydream about sordid ways to raise cash? And not follow through?

I got my property tax assessment in the mail for the beach lot. The value of the lot dropped over $10k, even without taking into consideration that I tore down the "house". 

I am terrible at this bloggy business, I should have put this up earlier! Cassity @ Remodelaholic wrote me and asked to feature my kitchen, so of course I was all "yesss". I started following Cassity's blog ages ago. I love her husband's carpentry work. :)

The GI doctor put a scope down her throat and retrieved not 1, but 2 quarters from her stomach. Which might explain why they stubbornly hung out in her belly, giving her sharp pains. This will probably cost me another $1,000 out of pocket. The anesthesiologist takes his sweet time sending out his bills, too. For all the money I've spent on him this year, I should get a thank you note. (I briefly wonder what kind of car his wife drives and feel jealous.)

The kid is going back to school tomorrow, no worse for wear. *edited to add* everyone (including her) thought she only swallowed one, they were stuck together on the way down and in her stomach. The GI doctor looked mildly amused when he handed me the change.

Even though my life is one disaster after another, we are making progress. As I write the check to the hospital and cry, the architect and engineer are drawing up the beach shack plans and drainage plans and hurricane/FEMA/whatever plans....and my little dream is moving forward.

I will post them as soon as they are finished. In the meantime, the surveyor went out to my lot and did his business.

Now if I could just find an anesthesiologist who'd be willing to barter his services for, say, something built out of scrap pallets?

I was internet surfing recently and ran across one of those "blogging tips" articles, where the writer explains that the secret to people being interested in your blog is writing in a positive voice. (tee hee!)
I was in Florida this week for an electric utility trade show. My kids were staying with my parents while I was gone.
I came home and discovered my house had a terrible smell that I couldn't identify. (The dying hermit crabs?) I had a couple of BIG doctor bills waiting. The yardwork is screaming  (the huge holes all over the lawn need to be addressed but I have no time). The oil needs changing, the turn signal in my car burned out and almost caused a bad wreck, and finally the van door was stuck again and I finally ripped the handle off while trying to get it open:
You know what my problem is with staying in a positive voice?

While I was writing this last night, one of my kids choked on a quarter. We had to go to the hospital again.
On the way to the hospital, the van door suddenly slid open on its own. The high speeds on the highway created enough wind force on the broken handle to unlatch it. As I was screaming my mom jumped across the backseat and managed to close it. Thank God I didn't make this discovery while my 5 year old was sitting there.

Happy Mother's Day! (Here's the Positive Voice. Makes you wanna come back for more.)  *wink wink*

The kids told me they loved me, gave me some cool presents, and now they're out back digging a grave for a hermit crab. We're also hoping that the quarter makes an appearance soon so we don't have to go back to the hospital, but she's been complaining of abdominal pain so I'm scared....

It's May and the local CF Walks are gearing up...
I'm not-so-patiently waiting to see the results of the VX809/Kalydeco trial. Come on, Phase 3!

Please remember us in your prayers this month. Not just for a cure for CF, but for getting rid of MRSA, good results in the drug trials, and a healthy summer for these kids. Their mama is amazing. We were talking a couple months ago when we were both kinda depressed and worn out, and she said "You know I never would have pictured CF for our fam" - you never know what life is going to hand you.

I spend too much energy wishing that things were different, not just for my nieces but for my own kids.

Well kittens.. I have to hire an architect to draw my teeny cabin for me for the bargain price of $3,000.

Interesting!

(And by interesting, I mean #@%*!)

You know what dawned on me? The secret to making a lot of money is having information that other people need. Or at least, having access to information that is difficult for others to access.

It seems to me that I should figure out a way to have important information of my own, so that others must pay me boatloads of money to get it.

Any ideas? Maybe I should be the Master Engineer of Building Crap Out of Other People's Garbage. And I'll get all the government powers that be to write a specification that only a certified engineer in Building Crap out Of Other People's Garbage (or a BCOOOPG license) can build crap out of garbage. And then when some DIYer asks me how to build crap out of other people's garbage, I'll say "Oh that requires a BCOOOPG license and some drawings that I know how to provide. I'll draw up your plans for a measly $3k."

Bam! Money issues solved, and I can stay home with my kids again!

(I should maybe mention that The Architect in question seems perfectly nice and professional, so he's not the issue. I'm just having a hissy fit over money. Clearly I need to brace myself because it's probably not going to get better...)

This is the theme of my entire life.  Just in case you were thinking that going to the beach with little kids is a blast. Which of course it is, unless you are in our family.
 I decided that since we can't build our beach house quite yet, the next best thing is to use the empty lot for parking. We might as well take advantage of our little patch of sand. You know what's so hilarious about this adventure? I drove a total of 6 hours on Saturday to spend a total of 1.5 hours on the beach. And I even packed a novel, imagining that I might get to read it. LOL!
 I parked the van where Shorty's hot mess used to be. Then I discovered that my van's front tires sank in the sand and were spinning uselessly. I had this sick feeling, like Oh GOD NO I don't want to call a tow truck to get un-stuck from a sandpit! Please!

But thankfully my back tires still had enough traction on the gravel road, so we were okay. Barely. We saddled up the bikes with the new wire baskets that I bought Friday and zip tied to the handlebars so they could carry their own towels and drinks. (Wish I'd read the reviews first)  LOL!

I was so stressed and screeching about staying to the side of the road so we wouldn't get run over -- 3 little kids on bikes they can barely control because the baskets were a little too heavy, and cars zipping all around us -- it was heart attack city.  Plus I got a little lost and couldn't figure out which road was the quickest way to the beach. I gave up and took the bikes back to the van.
We walked. Mommy had to carry all the crap. It was exhausting. Then the little umbrella wouldn't stay in the sand, so Mommy's skin was on fire pretty quick and we couldn't stay too long.
(Note to self: remember that if you forget your sun hat, the island shops charge $30 for one. Not to mention the SPEEDING TICKET I got on the way down.)
I love that "pencil sketch" option in Paint.net's photo editor, don't you? So fun.

After spending $80 on a speeding ticket, $50 on emergency supplies at the Beach shop, $50 in gas, $50 on useless bike baskets, and $20 on drive-thru sustenance, it wasn't the cheap trip I imagined. Plus almost getting the van stuck in a sandpit. (which turned into a mudpit with everyone trying to rinse themselves off with their bottled water. I accidentally poured someone's apple juice all over someone else's sandals.)

It kinda reminds me of when the kids were babies and I took them to Sea World by myself. One walking, one in a stroller, and one strapped to my chest. In 100 degree San Antonio heat.
I think the easiest thing I ever did was drive them through one of those safaris where you don't get out of the car. (way more fun than Sea World.)

I sometimes overestimate myself & might possibly be a wackjob. My only hope is that someday the memories will be something we can laugh about. I'm starting to think the chorus of "we love you mom" is their way of showing pity. It sounds similar in tone to "nice try".

They are also getting good at praying for me when the situation is going downhill. Bless their little hearts.

{oh -I finally met my next door neighbor! Hi Sharon! *waving* }