Champagne Taste, Beer Budget

I have definite visions in mind most of the time when it comes to design.  I know that I don't want a cookie cutter builder grade house, nice as that might be.  I'm going to be paying for my vision the rest of my life it appears.  But, considering that this is my "forever" home, that's okay with me.

I went back to the dating site tile and flooring store this morning to pick out fireplace surround for the bedroom side of the fireplace, and the design consultant, who loves my vision, asked if she could set me up on a blind date with her father-in-law.  Sure, why not?  I could do worse than have a future daughter-in-law that thinks I rock.

Here's some of my vision - first up, the fireplace (see through to the master bedroom) as seen from the living room:



On the bedroom side, think white mantel, with this tile surround, which is 3D marble in a basket weave pattern:



For the master bath, shower (no tub), with 2 pedestal sinks and this tile:



Kitchen sink faucet (if I can afford it, which remains to be seen)?



Laundry room floor:



Kitchen cabinets haven't been designed yet, but my vision there is only lower cabinets, with open shelves above.  If it ain't pretty, it won't go on the shelves.  I have a huge pantry where most of my kitchen crap neccessities will go, and I'll still have the lower cabinets and the island for storage.

The style will be kind of like this, without the upper cabinets.



See the white subway tile with the charcoal grout?  That'll be everywhere in my house.  Bathrooms and kitchen backsplash both.  It's a timeless look that I don't think I'll ever get sick of.

Paying for all of this?  Hmmm...

Good Instincts

I always thought of my house as a blank canvas; one where I could experiment with color and style.  Some of my friends marveled at my bravery for painting the walls other than the white they came in, saying that they were so unsure of themselves they would never try it.  One memorable wall treatment involved paint, stain, water, and plastic grocery bags.  I loved that room, and felt a little sad when I finally painted over it when remodeling.

When I remodeled my kitchen in Texas, I obsessed over the details before I ever called the contractor.  I knew in my head exactly what color, style, and grain I wanted in my cabinets, where I wanted shelves as opposed to cabinets, and even designed a wine rack for that ackward space over the fridge.

I remain proud of my kitchen to this day.  The contractor told me that his job was relatively easy - he just had to do what I told him to do!

So now, I've put in an offer on 5 acres of land in Minnesota, and I'm working with a builder.  He's one of those guys that know that they have no design sense, so there's not a lot of judgement at my choices (other than "that's going to be expensive").  Turns out I can't afford a true Craftsman home, but I'm going to get as close as I can.

Did I mention that I'm about to buy 5 acres?  Turns out not being able to have chickens on the 2 acres I looked at for a year was a good thing.  Just down the road there's a 5-acre parcel that's zoned agricultural and is heavily wooded.  They've even cleared a spot for a home and started a driveway.  My contractor, after looking at it, called me all excited and told me that I must jump on it - it's a special piece of property.  After negotiating a bit, the seller has verbally agreed to a price - whoo hoo!

I've gone to two banks for the construction loan.  My problem is that my home in Texas is still on the market, and I can't come up with the 20% down payment until it sells.  The first bank said to give it awhile, and if it doesn't sell, perhaps I could take out a home equity loan.  I started adding up the monthly payments for a mortgage, 2nd mortgage, and construction loan in my head and mentally shouted "EEK"!

So I went to another bank, and told her my situation.  She very calmly said that they could roll the remaining principle of my Texas home into the construction loan in addition to the property.  Sounding too good to be true, I asked about the interest rate.  Well, a construction loan has a higher interest rate (5%), but you only pay interest for the amount used, and at the end, it converts into a real mortgage at a much lower rate.  My mortgage in Texas is 5.75%, so that's a good deal.

Then the kicker.  "How much cash do I need to come up with to make this work?", I said.

She looked surprised, looked down at her figures, then looked back up at me.  "Nothing", she said.

"But you don't know me, you haven't looked at my credit - how can you say that?"

"Well, you'd have to qualify, of course."

"My credit rating is 814, and I was told by your competition that I would qualify for xxx".

"You qualify".

You gotta love a small town bank!

So now I'm running around the region to pick out tile, flooring, cabinets, countertops, plumbing, etc. in order to give to the bank for the construction loan.  I spent quality time at the tile and flooring place yesterday afternoon, where a designer was on hand to assist me.

I had told her on the phone that I would be easy - I knew exactly what I wanted.  I could tell that she didn't really believe me, but once I started to explain my vision to her, she got very excited.  At the end, she said that I could work there, and that I was the easiest client she'd ever had.

Here's an idea of what my bathroom is going to look like:



I can't wait to talk to the cabinet maker!

Make a Left Turn Here

My roof still isn't done - it's gone to arbitration so we're waiting for a 3rd party appraiser to make an appointment with me.  I've been waiting more than 2 weeks already, so I guess they'll stretch it out to their 30 day limit.  I have decided upon a realtor to list my house when it's ready, so I guess I've made some progress.

That serendipity moment I had when the 2 acres of land came back on the market?  Those dreams came to a screeching halt this morning.  A friend of mine from Detroit Lakes posted on Facebook how disappointed he was that the city didn't allow backyard chickens.  Okay, the land I'm looking at is outside city limits, so I'm okay, right?

I thought I should check anyway.  Not finding anything on the Becker County website, I called the county offices.  Nope, no chickens in Hidden Hills either.  I have been dreaming about that little spot of land for almost 2 years, so you can imagine my disappointment!

I called my realtor in Minnesota and told her what I found out, and said that no chickens was a deal breaker.  Just this morning she walked some land not on the market yet North of the city.   I told her woods were important too, and she replied that there were a lot of pine trees surrounding the property.  She's going to check to see if it's zoned agricultural - it's the same price, but less land.

I know the right place will happen, whether it's land to build my dream house, or a property that already has my dream house.  The universe always gives me what I ask for, so I know that there's an even better place awaiting me.  And chickens.  There are definitely chickens.

I Want to Keep Up with the Joneses!

I have been working with a roofing / siding company for MONTHS battling my insurance company to get the best deal possible on my claim.  I got a check for the roof and gutters right away, but they're still wanting to simply patch the siding, which isn't good because the siding has been discontinued and the patch job will look horrible.

Yesterday morning I got all excited because a big truck parked right in front of my house and delivered shingles and roofing materials.  To my neighbor.  Who started the process way after I did.

I was feeling pissy and mad, especially this morning when workers showed up to start the work.

And then I thought of all the little coincidences I've had this winter.  Needing a handyman and meeting one at Lowes.  Needing to start the process of selling my house and having a real estate agent knock on my door.  Wanting my siding cleaned and having a Gypsy show up and offer to do it cheap.

There are two things holding me back from putting the house on the market - the roof/siding, and the fence.  The guy who said he would do my fence for me didn't call until yesterday; he's been sick but he's ready to go today.

Really, it all works out for the best, since I won't have a place to live until May 1 in Minnesota.  My big brother has offered me his basement if I come earlier, but that just means moving again.

And...the 2 acre lot I looked at last summer?  It's back on the market.  It's calling to me.

And Now For Something Completely Different.

Anyone get the Monty Python reference?  Anyone?

Another Monty Python skit was about herding cats.  If you've ever tried to get a group of people to all pay attention and follow you, you know how well that works.

And speaking of cats, my cat Grace used up another life last week.  She had been doing remarkably well for a 17 year old cat in chronic kidney failure - eating well, active, shiny, alert, all that.  In fact, at 2:00 a.m. on New Year's Eve, she sensed I was awake, and did her normal 'step on my face until I pet her' routine.

So around 7 when I woke up for real, I expected her to greet me the same way; happy to see me, butt in my face, pet me, feed me.

But she remained curled up at my side seemingly asleep, and although she was awake, she didn't seem to be able to raise her head.  I got up, knowing something was horribly wrong, and started preparing myself for the worst.

After a couple of hours, I heard a noise, and realized she was out of bed using the litter box.

"That's a good sign", I thought, until I saw her.  Her head was tilted funny, and she wasn't walking right.  Before I could scoop her up, she went to her favorite hidey-hole behind the gas fireplace, under a built-in cabinet.

If you didn't already know it, cats tend to hide or go away to die.  So I knew that Grace had done just that.  So I tried to pull her out of the 6 inch hole, but she got away from me and went under the cabinet floor where there was no way to get her short of cutting out the cabinet bottom.  Yep, that's my new Dremel saw, and the first project I got to use it on.  Hope the new owners of my house don't open that cabinet!



I was able to reach in and get her, covered in saw dust by this point, and rushed her to my Vet's office, 9 minutes before they were to close for the holiday.  Her blood tests showed that her kidney tests weren't that bad, but she definitely had something neurological going on.  My choices were to take her to the 24 hour animal emergency hospital, or put her down.

Here's what my Vet said that made my mind up.

"Age is not a reason for not treating her".  I had thought that at 17, she was old, and since twice before, a Vet gave me the option for putting her down, it was time.

I was 50/50 at this point - I didn't want her to suffer, thought she had a stroke and wouldn't recover, but didn't want to lose her either.  The Vet warned me that the minimum I'd have to spend at the hospital was $2000, and could go to $4000 or $5000 easily.

I will gladly go into debt to save her life, thought I.  So I drove down to the animal hospital where they were waiting for me.  They took her from me immediately to take a look.  Finally, the doctor came out and told me that they recommended that I hospitalize her for 48 hours, on IV fluids, antibiotics, etc.  with no diagnosis or prognosis other than "animals tend to recover quickly, or die" from this type of thing.

I swear, the hardest thing I ever had to do was leave her there, even though they said I could come anytime, 24 hours a day to visit.

I called that night, and she was "stable", but no change.  The next morning, I called to set up a visit and check on her, and the doc told me that Grace was doing super.  She no longer had the head tilt, and if her kidney results were okay that afternoon, I could take her home a day early.  The tears of fear and sadness from the day before turned into tears of joy at that.

She's been home 4 days now, and every day is better and better.  She's pretty much back to normal as far as her alertness and behavior.  She's not eating as much as she should, but she's doing better.

She has been milking the attention though.  I ran out and bought her a new cat bed, and she's covered in a blanket I'm still crocheting.  She now sleeps in the dead center of the bed, so I have to curl up around her, but I woke up this morning to a furry face pushing against mine, and a foot in my ear, so I guess I'll learn to deal with it.

The Grigsbys Part Nine - Soldier John

"Soldier John" Grigsby, was born in 1720 in Stafford County. In 1740, "Soldier John" accompanied Lawrence Washington, brother of George Washington, to Carthagena (now in Columbia) as part of the Virginia militia under the command of Admiral Edward Vernon. 

Lawrence Washington inherited the estate formerly known as Little Hunting Creek Plantation, and renamed it Mount Vernon in honor of Admiral Vernon.  When Lawrence's brother George inherited the property, he kept the name.

John Grigsby also commanded a company of Thirteenth Regiment of the Virginia Line during the early years of the American Revolution.

In 1746 Soldier John married his first wife Rosanna Etchison/Atchison.  Together, they had 5 children before Rosanna died in 1761.  Since their youngest child was born in December of 1761, I presume she died in childbirth or shortly thereafter.  I am descended from his oldest son, James (1748-1835).  An interesting fact about James is that he married his father's second wife's sister Frances Porter, who was 12 years younger than her sister.  

In 1764 John remarried, to Elizabeth Porter, and they had 8 children, 7 of which were born in Stafford County.

In 1779, John Grigsby, his wife, and other family members crossed the Blue Ridge Mountains into the Valley of Virginia.  He was preceded to the Valley by his son James, from whom he purchased "460 acres in the Forks of the James River" on November 2, 1779. When he arrived at "Fruit Hill" in Rockbridge, Co., VA, he was nearly 60 years of age and the father of at least 12 children. His last child, Reuben, was born there on June 6 of the following year. John Grigsby died April 7, 1794, and was buried in the cemetery of Falling Spring Presbyterian Church in Rockbridge Co., where the family worshipped. An historical marker at the church reads as follows:

FALLING SPRING PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH

The Oldest Congregation in the Fincastle Presbytery, the Falling Spring Presbyterian Church, was organized before 1748. The Hanover Presbytery met here in October 1780. The present Gothic Revival church was constructed of slave-made brick during the Civil War. At the time of its dedication in April 1864, General Thomas L. Rosser's Cavalry Brigade was camped here. The first burial in the present cemetery was that of John Grigsby of Fruit Hill (1720- 1794).

In 1746, "Soldier John" married Rosanna Etchison, disposed of his holdings inherited from his father, Charles, in Stafford County, and moved with his young wife to Culpepper, Va. They had four (4) sons and one (1) daughter.

Rosanna died in 1762. In 1764, "Soldier John" married Elizabeth Porter; born 1734, died 1807. Elizabeth was buried in Falling Spring Presbyterian Church Cemetery. All of their children were born in Culpepper except Reuben, who was born at "Fruit Hill" in Rockbridge County.

Reuben's home, Hickory Hill, is in the National Register of Historic Places.

The Grigsbys Part Eight - Puritan John, Immigrant John, and Old John

In my last post we were still in England, where John Grigsby fought with the Puritans against the Monarchy and won...for a short time at least.  The Monarchy was put back in place in 1660, and I can only imagine that John must have been a little fearful, knowing that he fought with the army that beheaded the father of the current king.  John married for the first time in about 1650, but other than that we don't know anything.  Perhaps John was fleeing not only the country, but his wife?

John arrived in the colonies in September of 1661, but he didn't apply for land until September of 1685.  So where was he all that time?  If he came over as an indentured servant, he would have paid for his passage in 5 to 7 years, not 24 years.  So maybe he signed on as a sailor, and went back and forth between the colonies and England during those years.

After he arrived, he married Jane Rosser, or Prosser, and proceeded to have at least 6 children, all who lived to relatively advanced ages.  Old John himself lived to ripe old age of 106!

John owned his first recorded land (100 acres) in King George County, which is due south of Washington DC about 40 miles and on the southern bank of the Potomac River.  In 1699, John bought an additional 887 acres situated on the branches of Paspitanzy Creek in the county of Stafford, Virginia, which is just north and west of King George County.

When Old John wrote his will in 1728, he had 18 slaves, much land, hogs, and cattle, which he divided amongst his 6 children.

In the name of God amen, I, John Grigsby of the Parish of St. Paul's in the County of Stafford being in good health of body, sound, perfect, and disposing mind and memory, thanks be returned to God for same, yet being sensible of the uncertainty of this mortal life, do make, publish, and ordain this my last will and testament in manner and form following (that is to say) first and principally I recommend my soul into hands of Almighty God, hoping through the meritous death of my Blessed Savior and Redeemer Jesus Christ to receive full and free pardon and remission of my sins and to inherit everlasting salvation, and my body I commit to the earth to be decently interred at the discretion of my executors hereafter mentioned as touching the disposition of such temporal estate as it hath pleased Almighty God to bestow upon me, I give and dispose thereof as followeth (viz):

Item: I give unto my son John Grigsby his heirs part of tract of land I bought of Nicholas Battain from his spring branch to upper comer tree by William Smith's old field, and likewise I give him three negros, named Sambo, Thorn, and Dick.

Item: I give unto my son Charles Grigsby all that parcel of land from the swamp to Mr. Chandler Fowke's line whereon he now lives, it being in the pattern I bought of Nick Battain, and likewise I give unto him two negros, Robin and James, and to him and his heirs the land and negros.

Item: I give unto my daughter Mary Anne four negros: Jemmy, Will, Joney, and Bess, to her and her heirs.

Item: I give unto my son James Grigsby and his heirs all that parcel of land whereon he now lives from Jones Branch up his own spring branch and to across to his brother John's spring branch, and likewise I give him three negros: Jack, Ben, Dall and her increase forever to him and his heirs.

Item: I give unto my son William Grigsby, and his heirs all that parcel of land whereon he now lives, it being part of that patten I bought of Nicholas Battain from James* spring branch and up Jones Branch to my head line and soe along the line to his Brother John's land and likewise I give him three negros: Allow, Jane and Grace, their increase to him and his heirs forever.

Item: I give unto my son Thomas Grigsby all the remainder part of that pattain I bought of Battain from the end of Wolf Pit Point up Jones Branch to my head line on the east side of the branch; also I give him the said tract of land whereon now I live to him and his heirs and likewise I give him three negros: Nan, Genny, Mary, and their increase to him and his heirs forever and likewise I give unto my son Thomas Grigsby all my hogs belonging to me and likewise I give him half my cattle and the other half of cattle to be divided between my other four sons and daughter and likewise all my other part of my moveable estate to be equally divided between my six children, and further I doe desire
that my estate may not be brought to an appraisement, and further I doe appoint my two sons John and Thomas Grigsby to be my executors of this my last will and testament to see that everything equally divided between themselves revoking all former wills as witness my hand and seal this 17th March, 1728/9.

Signed and sealed in the presence of us and delivered: John Grigsby

Old John's son Charles (1682-1740) married Sarah Wilkerson and had 8 children.  One of those children, John (1720-1794), also known as Soldier John, will be the subject of my next tale.