home appraisal +

What made home appraisal big fun was the all the little things…

The 30 year-old roof. The redundant gutters. The exposed chimney, chunks of stucco long since sloughed off. That patch of deteriorated basement wall. The garage floor.

I could leave off there and satisfy the demands of visual aesthetics, but that would abridge the entertainment value of this entry.

So, in addition, we’ll include the rear yard, complete with a healthy vole infestation—and, once the voles have been eradicated the small matter of approximately six inches of soil required for some serious top-settling and leveling. And, of course, we can’t overlook the un-repaired dishwasher and reverse-osmosis system duo. They’re simply too fabulous to leave out.

Every now and then there are a pair of new favorite words that debut at the top of a running list.

Deferred maintenance.

This previously unknown factor, takes center stage, smiling as the former pair of winners- Equitable Distribution– prepare to pass the crown. In context, the former and latter have known each other for years and there is no rivalry between them.

There are strange days behind, strange days walking with me now, strange days ahead. The things I’m learning are as they’ve always been; maybe a little dangerous, but I still get to choose my feelings about it all. Often the choices I’ve made pushes some people away- the refusal to be a victim, to embrace anger, react with incredulity, or to cry. Not as trite as a glass half full, yet a time to appreciate that there are large numbers everywhere, protecting me. From all sides. I’m going to get things, and get money, and get the house, and get other things as yet undetermined. In a world all around me finding people choosing between gas and food, there isn’t any space for suffering. The expected strife and discombobulation of divorce has been nulled and voided. By the numbers.

And by a very numb-skulled idiot.

Entitlement is a nasty thing until it presents as the foundation that will sustain the rest of your life. The deferred maintenance required for my home was a poison dart some shmuck believed would paralyze my peace of mind somewhere down the line, so he threw it. Pity that the thing has boomerang powers. Sort of like the part where my education was never a priority, so I’m on the low side of future stability and sustainability, and in turn the percentages will work for me at the table. The investments never made on my behalf will come at a cost to he who failed to invest. Good vibes, all tolled.

Writing like this feels like walking through mud, the ooze a pleasant thing over my toes. Pleasant, but slimy somehow. But anyway, it’s what’s going on. It’s one of those years filled with learning and an underlying buzz of something good to come. This house isn’t worth the number thrown on a document. A number pulled off Zillow or Homes.com. A number that smiles, has had Botox and a lift, shoots up Ozempic- and to hell with the hair loss- pulls on a good wig. It’s false, it’s inaccurate, and frankly, just wrong. The list of deferred maintenance will take care of that. It will course-correct.

Rolling up to a home appraisal intended for consideration in equitable distribution, the list of deferred maintenance is the plus one that becomes the life of the party. She’s dressed well, brings along a good bottle of Mescal, and never interrupts. She puts her glass on a coaster, never double dips.

Numbers are tossed around lately like lumpy bags of sporting equipment into the SUV. And when you’re the observer it goes without saying that mom’s too busy but to bag everything up and get the kids where they need to go.

When memories of my little son enjoying a bowl of white rice with soy sauce at Kisso remind me that once such small things were the entire world, and nothing felt better than my child learning to nourish his little body, and I’m thinking thoughts that at some point began to bring on a bit of saudade, I remind myself that there is magic left in the world.

When the kids have grown, the spouse has un-spoused, and home is now a place that protects from the weather and a place to sleep well as opposed to a place where there is an intact nuclear family, you adjust or you drown.

So you take your half-life pair of underwear, and enjoy yourself. I’ll take the house, the respect of my son, and every other thing being traded for my freedom.

Danke, and fall hard on your face.