Bullish

At least at the time, and again now.

I got a call from the person at the title company yesterday in the early evening. She had forgotten to call me back before leaving work. I told her we could talk today, but before we got off the phone, I asked her a question about one of the forms I will sign on Thursday. One way the property taxes can not be “uncapped” by a sale of the property is if it is a first-degree blood transfer. I looked at the list of exemptions and didn’t see one that exactly applies. A sale from my parents to me counts, but the paperwork says over and over that it is a sale from me to me.

The relationship between me and me couldn’t be closer, albeit still at times contentious, but is it legally the thing that is needed? The title person said she would research it today and let me know. She said that if the property taxes did get uncapped and if it had been a while since that had happened, which I’m sure it has been, the increase could be “substantial.” The realtor is confident all will be well.

Last night, not long after retiring at a semi-reasonable hour, I once again figured out how to cram all the desired things into one life and leapt out of bed to make some notes and order some stuff. (Wonderful how no matter what you decide to do, you have to order a little something.) If I am going to keep paying my rent in San Francisco, I really do need to work some, so what I am envisioning is coming to Ypsilanti every two months, timed so I can be present for the monthly lunch of my father’s high school classmates, who have become dear to me, and staying for just a week and a half. Otherwise I plan to be in San Francisco working once a week. Yay! I’m not retired any more, I’m still a hospital chaplain, I have a little income, and I can go to Orphan Andy’s and have a turkey melt and maybe I’ll see the cute server, etc.

I emailed my boss to see if I could work on certain days and he wrote back saying he has put me on the schedule and that I have been missed. I love my boss very much.

My latest scheme is not exactly perfect because I had intended to be with the cats all the time. I feel mournful about having left them so much, but in this scenario, I would be with them for about seven weeks and then gone for a week and a half, which is not bad. Their cat sitters love them and I can see from the photos I get every day that the feeling is mutual.

So there go the big tasks again, melting away: I don’t need to move the cats. I don’t need to move my stuff. I will, however, proceed with the Marvin-related modifications to the house, just in case.

I felt great about this, and then I felt a bit sorrowful in regard to my sister, who had said she likes the idea of us being able to help each other out. (Translation: Her being able to help me; the flow of assistance is almost entirely one way.) Are you getting married to the person you have loved forever, and did you also just win five million dollars in the lottery and get invited to join Metallica? There’s got to be something in there to feel mournful about. Email me; I’ll help you figure it out.

I was remembering myself telling Carol-Joy some months ago how much I look forward to going to yp and how much I hate returning to San Francisco. Now I’m telling myself how fantastic San Francisco is and how much I hate listening to this power plant: The person I can most easily persuade of one thing and then the opposite is my very own self.

(One member of my daily text group cannot learn the word “Ypsilanti” and always calls it “yp,” which I have gotten in the habit of doing myself.)

Maybe this is more of a vacation home! If so, it will need its own water filter. I called Multipure to order one.

I spoke with the person at the title company about the first-degree blood transfer and then called the assessor myself. Her regular hours are on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, so I will have to wait until tomorrow to find out more about this and so will the title company person.

A bit later, everything went utterly and completely off the rails with my other sister. This time we weren’t just texting our sister to complain about each other, we were both calling the attorney to find out exactly when we could expect to see the other in jail. It was awful. There was a stretch when the attorney advised me I might just have to forget about owning the house and “move on,” not to mention the car.

Somewhere along in there, another tree guy came to look at the silver maple in the back yard and then sent an estimate for $14,500 to remove it. He pondered various places he might park a crane, including in the front yard of my plant-loving neighbor who, to my astonishment, said that would be fine, as long as one certain plant which is part of his soul doesn’t get mashed. The tree guy pointed out to my neighbor that the big tree on his lawn extension is split down the middle and could fall at any moment. Trees: Who needs them?

Then my eye fell on several people about my own age carting furniture away from the house just beyond that of my plant-loving neighbor. Really? On top of everything else, a new neighbor? Just hoping they don’t grill with charcoal. I think that lady who is now being moved out of her house is the person who has lived on this block the longest. Just some weeks ago, I saw her son and he said she was out at her bridge game.

Normally if the slightest thing goes wrong, I conclude the universe has spoken, but today having a whole series of obstacles present themselves only strengthened my determination to own this house (and the car!).

I threw myself entirely on my sister’s mercy, I groveled, I paid the ransom, and I think everything is, miraculously, okay.

I felt pretty frazzled by then and considered just saying that today was a day without time for a walk, but there was time and I knew I’d feel better if I did that, so I did.

I did also pick out the colors for samples for the deck, almost at random, just several light grays, several light blues, several near-whites. If it’s totally horrible, I can always repaint it.