Finally!
If you will recall, Juice and I have been looking for/at land for quite some time. Actually, a lot longer than I've been telling ya'll about it.
We started looking at land right after we moved back to San Antonio from Chicago. At that point, it was just a pipe dream, that someday we'd have our own little corner of the world where we could build a house, and our (future) kids would have space to run and play and explore the natural world.
I distinctly remember going out north of Canyon Lake and looking at 5 acre lots that were just beautiful, and cost between $35,000 and $40,000. At the time, it was just too rich for our blood, and too far outside of town, not to mention in the part of town with the biggest traffic nightmares, so we decided to wait.
We looked out by Medina Lake, too and found land at about the same cost per acre (around $7K per) and again, it was just more than we could afford, what with having spent our savings on our new house, and preparing for a wedding.
After the wedding, we continued to look, but by then, we were preparing to have a baby, and all of the financial uncertainties that go along with it, so we waited.
Then it was a new house, and by the time we got the new house, the market for everything had gone through the roof, so instead of paying $7000 per acre, we were looking at more like $10,000 per acre, which is just plain stupid, if you ask me.
But then the market tanked, and housing prices went down. Unfortunately, the price of land hasn't followed suit. At least not around here. This past spring, we started looking south of town, thinking that it wouldn't be as expensive as in the Hill Country, and it certainly wouldn't cost as much to build as it would on a lot we'd have to completely clear of cedar and level limestone to boot.
We found some lots down in the southeast corner of the county and a couple in Wilson county that we'd looked at, and settled on a 10 acre lot just outside of loop 1604 that we really liked. Level, lots of tall burr oaks, a little sandy, but very buildable.
Then, it took almost 4 weeks to get our pre-approval letter from the bank, and the lot got sold while we were waiting. So it was back to the drawing board.
We'd seen another 10 acre lot down by Somerset that we really liked too, but it wasn't part of a platted subdivision, so we'd have to put 20% down on the lot, and we only had 10% plus our closing costs.
I stopped looking over the summer, resigned to the fact that we might not ever find what we wanted, and I even used a lot of the money we had saved to pay off a credit card.
Then, a few weeks ago, I was browsing again, like I do when I get bored, and came across an ad for 5 acre lots that were priced lower than anything we'd seen in the past 5 years. I looked into it to find out where they were, and when Peanut got sick, I took the opportunity to drive down near Poteet and look at the lots for myself. We're very picky about what we want...or rather, don't want, in a piece of land.
Anyway, after I took Juice out there, we decided to put in an offer on a 5 acre lot. We found out about 3 days later that the lot we wanted had already been sold, so we were, again, out of luck.
The lot we bid on was on the outside part of the subdivision with a farm behind it, which would have been great because that meant no one behind us, and only one person on each side. The land on that side of the neighborhood was listed at $4000 more than lots in the middle of the subdivision. We had walked a lot in the middle, and the one we walked was actually still available. The selling realtor asked our realtor if we'd be interested in one of the middle lots, and we decided that since they were lower priced, and had more people around, we'd put an offer on two lots together, 10 acres total, to get ourselves some space.
We really lowballed it, offering just over $40,000 for both lots (which were listed individually at almost $30,000). They counter offered just under $50,000 and we took the deal.
Let me emphasize here that we paid under $5000 per acre for 10 acres with water and electric on the lots, as well as restrictions so we won't end up living next to a shanty. That is unheard of around here. Usually with land that inexpensive you have to either drill a well, put up with mobile homes, or both.
I can't tell you how excited I am about this.
Our plan is to build in about 5 years, but Juice thinks I'll actually push to build before then. I'd like to get most of the land paid off before we try to build just so we have some equity to work with.
But you'd better believe that I'm going to be spending a lot of time out in the woods until that happens.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Wednesday, October 07, 2009
I go back...
I'm sure you've heard the Kenny Chesney song that shares the title of this post. I imagine a lot of people are like that...a song, a smell, something jogs your memory and suddenly, there you are, 5, 10, or 15 years in the past, reliving the memory like it was yesterday.
It happens to me all the time. Events in my life are inextricably tied to music. I'll hear a song, and suddenly I'm back in high school, or sitting in my bedroom in elementary school, or thrown into my dorm room in college.
I was sitting at my desk the other day, listening to iTunes as I was doing some work, and this Enya song came on. All of a sudden, I was remembering an intimate encounter I had in Kansas City some 18 years ago with a girl that I had fallen madly in love with while working at a summer camp.
She was the first girl to shatter my heart.
After my first (disastrous)year of college, in which I earned a 1.5 GPA, I decided I needed to get the hell out of dodge, and found several ads in the campus newspaper advertising summer camp jobs in Minnesota.
I got a job as a lifeguard at one up in the northern part of the state, and 2 weeks before I left to head up there, found out that I was going to be the Waterfront Director since the person they'd hired had decided not to come, and because I had WSI certification. None of that is really important, though, other than the fact that I had to go a week earlier than planned.
And that's when I met her.
When I first showed up, there were only six other people there, the other area directors, and the camp directors. The camp director's brother and niece were there too, and I found out that the niece would be a counselor at the camp for the summer.
At first, I was a little put off by her. She was quiet, and shy, and I was this raucous almost-20-year-old who was spending his first summer away from home. I hit it off right away with the other folks who were there, and I didn't really pay much attention to this shy, artsy girl from Iowa.
It wasn't until late in the first week, after we'd all be hanging around and getting to know each other, that I started to see things about her that I really liked.
At the time, I also had a sort-of girlfriend back home who was still in high school. I say sort of because we'd spent my entire senior year of high school dating, then were off and on during my first year of college, but we continued to have sex on a regular basis. When I'd left for Minnesota, I told her in no uncertain terms that I wasn't planning on being exclusive during the summer. But she loved me, and sent me care packages at camp every week (consisting of cookies and cigarettes).
So I started lightly flirting with the Artsy girl, and she flirted back. We started spending more time together, and it must've been the first or second weekend that we were up there, and we went on a hike one evening with a bunch of other people, up to the "art dome." By the time we got out to it, the sky had turned black, and the wind had kicked up.
We took cover in the art done with the other people we'd been hiking with, and the power went off. While we were sitting there, wet and cold, I felt someone wrap their arms around me from the back and start kissing my neck.
It was on. We melted into each others arms, and made out like...well, like horny teenagers. After the rain subsided, we went back to my cabin and spent the first of many nights together.
She was in art school, and was an outstanding artist. I fell madly in love with her, and she introduced me to a lot of cool things, and got me thinking about going to art school myself to pursue my love of photography. We spent the entire summer with each other, and when it was time to go back to reality, I longed for her every day. We spoke on the phone often, and I flew out to Kansas City (where she went to school) to see her. Then one day, a letter came in the mail. She was torn, she said. She had been hanging out with her old boyfriend at school, and she thought they were good together.
The day I got that letter, I was supposed to work at a new job I had started just a couple of weeks prior, delivering pizzas. I called in sick, hopped in my Chevette and took off for Kansas City. I was love struck, and determined to save our relationship with a Lloyd Dobler-esque show of love.
When I got to KC, she had figured out I was coming, and had left me a bunch of things on her porch (it was 4 or 5 AM). The first was a blank journal book, like the one that she wrote in. There was also some photo paper and some other things which obviously weren't as important to me in the grand scheme of things. But that journal. For the next 5 or 6 years, that journal would be my place to vent, my place to think, my place to sort out all of the things I was feeling. If blogs had been invented back in the early 90's I wouldn't have needed it, but I did. I used it up.
We spent that fall weekend together, and it was like one last glorious hurrah of our summer, and then it was over. I made plans to come back a few weeks later for a portfolio day, to have my portfolio reviewed in preparation for me to go to art school, but by then, things had fallen apart.
I actually did make the trip back, despite it being over. I didn't want to accept it, and I thought I could make her see the light. It wasn't to be. I was an intruder in her house, and on top of it all, I got sick, bronchitis, and she didn't even bother to help me get to the hospital. It felt, the whole weekend, like someone was standing on my chest, and she didn't care. She simply gave me directions and told me to drive myself. That's when I knew. That's when my heart truly broke.
And I'll be honest with you. It's never been the same. Sure, I had other girlfriends that I was romantic with, that I did special things for, but something inside of me changed. I stopped being such a sappy romantic. I protected myself, my heart, from being broken. I became more skeptical, more cynical. I stopped dreaming about art school, and started thinking about the harsh reality that was facing me.
I was 20. I had dropped out of college. I was working 3 jobs and barely making enough to get by. I had to get my shit together.
So I did. Eventually, I let myself open up enough to get my heart broken again, but nothing is ever as bad as the first time. You think, when you're young and dumb, that it's going to last forever. That love will overcome. That you're invincible. That it can be like it is in the movies.
But it isn't. You have to face reality.
So I told you all of that to tell you this: I've honestly never gotten over her. There's this song by Christine Lavin called "The kind of love you never recover from" and that's kind of how I feel. I've googled her off and on throughout the years, never really finding anything substantial, and probably being better off for it.
So I was taken aback when I heard that Enya song, and I decided to visit google again. Then, suddenly, there she was. On Facebook (because, really, who isn't today?). I could tell it was her in the picture, even though the picture wasn't great.
My hands were shaking. What should I do? Friend her? Ignore it? Write to her? I decided on the latter. Just a short note, I thought. Not too much detail. She's married now, as I could tell from the name. Let her know that I was married, that I have kids, that I'm still doing photography. Ask her who she's kept in touch with from camp. That was it. Click send.
That was almost two weeks ago.
I don't know what I really expected. We didn't leave on the best of terms, but I thought I might at least get a note back from her. Maybe she doesn't get on Facebook that often. Maybe she just doesn't want to have anything to do with me.
And really? Why should I care so much about it? And yet, I do.
It happens to me all the time. Events in my life are inextricably tied to music. I'll hear a song, and suddenly I'm back in high school, or sitting in my bedroom in elementary school, or thrown into my dorm room in college.
I was sitting at my desk the other day, listening to iTunes as I was doing some work, and this Enya song came on. All of a sudden, I was remembering an intimate encounter I had in Kansas City some 18 years ago with a girl that I had fallen madly in love with while working at a summer camp.
She was the first girl to shatter my heart.
After my first (disastrous)year of college, in which I earned a 1.5 GPA, I decided I needed to get the hell out of dodge, and found several ads in the campus newspaper advertising summer camp jobs in Minnesota.
I got a job as a lifeguard at one up in the northern part of the state, and 2 weeks before I left to head up there, found out that I was going to be the Waterfront Director since the person they'd hired had decided not to come, and because I had WSI certification. None of that is really important, though, other than the fact that I had to go a week earlier than planned.
And that's when I met her.
When I first showed up, there were only six other people there, the other area directors, and the camp directors. The camp director's brother and niece were there too, and I found out that the niece would be a counselor at the camp for the summer.
At first, I was a little put off by her. She was quiet, and shy, and I was this raucous almost-20-year-old who was spending his first summer away from home. I hit it off right away with the other folks who were there, and I didn't really pay much attention to this shy, artsy girl from Iowa.
It wasn't until late in the first week, after we'd all be hanging around and getting to know each other, that I started to see things about her that I really liked.
At the time, I also had a sort-of girlfriend back home who was still in high school. I say sort of because we'd spent my entire senior year of high school dating, then were off and on during my first year of college, but we continued to have sex on a regular basis. When I'd left for Minnesota, I told her in no uncertain terms that I wasn't planning on being exclusive during the summer. But she loved me, and sent me care packages at camp every week (consisting of cookies and cigarettes).
So I started lightly flirting with the Artsy girl, and she flirted back. We started spending more time together, and it must've been the first or second weekend that we were up there, and we went on a hike one evening with a bunch of other people, up to the "art dome." By the time we got out to it, the sky had turned black, and the wind had kicked up.
We took cover in the art done with the other people we'd been hiking with, and the power went off. While we were sitting there, wet and cold, I felt someone wrap their arms around me from the back and start kissing my neck.
It was on. We melted into each others arms, and made out like...well, like horny teenagers. After the rain subsided, we went back to my cabin and spent the first of many nights together.
She was in art school, and was an outstanding artist. I fell madly in love with her, and she introduced me to a lot of cool things, and got me thinking about going to art school myself to pursue my love of photography. We spent the entire summer with each other, and when it was time to go back to reality, I longed for her every day. We spoke on the phone often, and I flew out to Kansas City (where she went to school) to see her. Then one day, a letter came in the mail. She was torn, she said. She had been hanging out with her old boyfriend at school, and she thought they were good together.
The day I got that letter, I was supposed to work at a new job I had started just a couple of weeks prior, delivering pizzas. I called in sick, hopped in my Chevette and took off for Kansas City. I was love struck, and determined to save our relationship with a Lloyd Dobler-esque show of love.
When I got to KC, she had figured out I was coming, and had left me a bunch of things on her porch (it was 4 or 5 AM). The first was a blank journal book, like the one that she wrote in. There was also some photo paper and some other things which obviously weren't as important to me in the grand scheme of things. But that journal. For the next 5 or 6 years, that journal would be my place to vent, my place to think, my place to sort out all of the things I was feeling. If blogs had been invented back in the early 90's I wouldn't have needed it, but I did. I used it up.
We spent that fall weekend together, and it was like one last glorious hurrah of our summer, and then it was over. I made plans to come back a few weeks later for a portfolio day, to have my portfolio reviewed in preparation for me to go to art school, but by then, things had fallen apart.
I actually did make the trip back, despite it being over. I didn't want to accept it, and I thought I could make her see the light. It wasn't to be. I was an intruder in her house, and on top of it all, I got sick, bronchitis, and she didn't even bother to help me get to the hospital. It felt, the whole weekend, like someone was standing on my chest, and she didn't care. She simply gave me directions and told me to drive myself. That's when I knew. That's when my heart truly broke.
And I'll be honest with you. It's never been the same. Sure, I had other girlfriends that I was romantic with, that I did special things for, but something inside of me changed. I stopped being such a sappy romantic. I protected myself, my heart, from being broken. I became more skeptical, more cynical. I stopped dreaming about art school, and started thinking about the harsh reality that was facing me.
I was 20. I had dropped out of college. I was working 3 jobs and barely making enough to get by. I had to get my shit together.
So I did. Eventually, I let myself open up enough to get my heart broken again, but nothing is ever as bad as the first time. You think, when you're young and dumb, that it's going to last forever. That love will overcome. That you're invincible. That it can be like it is in the movies.
But it isn't. You have to face reality.
So I told you all of that to tell you this: I've honestly never gotten over her. There's this song by Christine Lavin called "The kind of love you never recover from" and that's kind of how I feel. I've googled her off and on throughout the years, never really finding anything substantial, and probably being better off for it.
So I was taken aback when I heard that Enya song, and I decided to visit google again. Then, suddenly, there she was. On Facebook (because, really, who isn't today?). I could tell it was her in the picture, even though the picture wasn't great.
My hands were shaking. What should I do? Friend her? Ignore it? Write to her? I decided on the latter. Just a short note, I thought. Not too much detail. She's married now, as I could tell from the name. Let her know that I was married, that I have kids, that I'm still doing photography. Ask her who she's kept in touch with from camp. That was it. Click send.
That was almost two weeks ago.
I don't know what I really expected. We didn't leave on the best of terms, but I thought I might at least get a note back from her. Maybe she doesn't get on Facebook that often. Maybe she just doesn't want to have anything to do with me.
And really? Why should I care so much about it? And yet, I do.
Thursday, October 01, 2009
Ups and Downs
So...I guess this is going to be an every two week thing now. I guess that's what happens as you have kids and your job picks up steam, and you get older. Other things just seem to be more important, and the blog takes a back seat to everything else.
That, and it's really hard to write a super-secret blog when there is always someone around.
So with my colleagues out of the office, I finally have a chance to write little bit and let ya'll know what's been going on in my life the last couple of weeks.
I'll start with the ick. It's been going around, and my house was not spared. First, Peanut got it...came down with a fever a couple of weeks ago on a Saturday. Took her to the doc two days later and he said it was strep. At least it wasn't the flu.
Gives her some antibiotics to take, and says she can go back to school on Wednesday. I had taken Monday off, and Juice and I decided to split the day Tuesday since she has significantly fewer days left than I do after the maternity leave. Peanut seems like she's doing just fine both days...no real drop in her energy level, so I take her with me to go look at some land south of town both days.
And we get caught at the back of a 5 acre lot when it starts raining.
This is not good for a child who is already unwell.
So Wednesday comes along, and we happily send Peanut off to school.
At 11:30, I get a call from the school nurse saying that my daughter has diarrhea and will need to go home. Damn antibiotics screwed up her tummy.
On Thursday, we send her to school and don't give her any milk. She manages to stay at school the whole day, but comes home with hershey squirts. Lovely. Friday, I get the call again to come pick her up, which means that I was at work all of 2.5 days that week.
This past Sunday, our little lovely wakes up with a nasty stuffy nose, and a cough. She's still on the antibiotics, and not running a fever, so we send her off to school again Monday, and she makes it through the day. Still coming home with dirty underwear every day, though.
On Tuesday, I'm sitting at my desk around noon when I feel my energy start to drain. Then I feel a little scratchy in the throat. Then the eyes start to itch, the sniffling starts, and then the sneezing. My GOD the sneezing.
I manage to make it through the day, but don't go into work on Wednesday (yesterday). When I pick up Peach from the sitter, she tells me that she had two really runny, stinky poops, which is a sign that now she's starting to get sick. We just can't seem to get away from this stuff. The only one who hasn't gotten it yet is Juice, and I'm hoping it stays that way. She's no help at all when she's sick. By comparison, I got up and helped get the girls dressed yesterday, did the dishes, gave baths, cooked dinner...everything I would normally do, except go to work.
So anyway, about that land. I think we finally found something that we love and that we can afford. Oh yeah, and that meets our expectations of not having some ghetto mobile home next door to us.
I guess I didn't mention this back in the spring. We never did end up purchasing land because by the time we got pre-approved (almost 6 weeks after we put in the application) the piece of land we had wanted to buy had already sold. So we put everything on hold and used what would have been our down payment to pay down a credit card.
Anyway, I was just browsing land ads a few weeks ago and found a couple that caught my eye. With Peanut being sick, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to go take a look. They're both on the south side of town in the Somerset/Poteet area.
The first one we went to I knew right away wasn't going to be what I wanted. When you turn onto a dirt road and the first thing you see is a run down mobile home with rusted out cars sitting around, that's not the kind of neighborhood I want to live in.
The second place was a new subdivision of 5+ acre lots, and there were only two homes built. Both looked really nice, and taking a glance at the land, it looks relatively flat and buildable. We stopped by the office on our way back into town and found out which lots were available and how much they cost. We went back the next day to actually walk some of the lots, which is when we got caught in the rain.
I decided that Juice needed to take a look, so we got Chica to watch the kids for us on Saturday, put on our boots and jeans, and went tromping through the woods on a couple of very nice lots. We decided we like the more expensive of the two, but comparatively speaking, these lots are a steal compared to other lots of similar size in the area. To the tune of $2500/acre less expensive.
I emailed our loan officer and asked what we needed to do to update our loan application. She said that everything looked good and that she could get me a pre-approval letter within a day or two. So we have that in our hot little hands, and now we're just waiting to hear from our realtor. We may be the proud owner of our own little piece of land within the next week or so!
If that happens, you can bet I'll be spending my weekends with a chainsaw and probably buying a used truck.
Whew...fingers are bleeding now. I guess I really need to find time to update more often, because I didn't even get a chance to tell you about the song I heard today that took me way back to my younger years. Next time, my friends.
That, and it's really hard to write a super-secret blog when there is always someone around.
So with my colleagues out of the office, I finally have a chance to write little bit and let ya'll know what's been going on in my life the last couple of weeks.
I'll start with the ick. It's been going around, and my house was not spared. First, Peanut got it...came down with a fever a couple of weeks ago on a Saturday. Took her to the doc two days later and he said it was strep. At least it wasn't the flu.
Gives her some antibiotics to take, and says she can go back to school on Wednesday. I had taken Monday off, and Juice and I decided to split the day Tuesday since she has significantly fewer days left than I do after the maternity leave. Peanut seems like she's doing just fine both days...no real drop in her energy level, so I take her with me to go look at some land south of town both days.
And we get caught at the back of a 5 acre lot when it starts raining.
This is not good for a child who is already unwell.
So Wednesday comes along, and we happily send Peanut off to school.
At 11:30, I get a call from the school nurse saying that my daughter has diarrhea and will need to go home. Damn antibiotics screwed up her tummy.
On Thursday, we send her to school and don't give her any milk. She manages to stay at school the whole day, but comes home with hershey squirts. Lovely. Friday, I get the call again to come pick her up, which means that I was at work all of 2.5 days that week.
This past Sunday, our little lovely wakes up with a nasty stuffy nose, and a cough. She's still on the antibiotics, and not running a fever, so we send her off to school again Monday, and she makes it through the day. Still coming home with dirty underwear every day, though.
On Tuesday, I'm sitting at my desk around noon when I feel my energy start to drain. Then I feel a little scratchy in the throat. Then the eyes start to itch, the sniffling starts, and then the sneezing. My GOD the sneezing.
I manage to make it through the day, but don't go into work on Wednesday (yesterday). When I pick up Peach from the sitter, she tells me that she had two really runny, stinky poops, which is a sign that now she's starting to get sick. We just can't seem to get away from this stuff. The only one who hasn't gotten it yet is Juice, and I'm hoping it stays that way. She's no help at all when she's sick. By comparison, I got up and helped get the girls dressed yesterday, did the dishes, gave baths, cooked dinner...everything I would normally do, except go to work.
So anyway, about that land. I think we finally found something that we love and that we can afford. Oh yeah, and that meets our expectations of not having some ghetto mobile home next door to us.
I guess I didn't mention this back in the spring. We never did end up purchasing land because by the time we got pre-approved (almost 6 weeks after we put in the application) the piece of land we had wanted to buy had already sold. So we put everything on hold and used what would have been our down payment to pay down a credit card.
Anyway, I was just browsing land ads a few weeks ago and found a couple that caught my eye. With Peanut being sick, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to go take a look. They're both on the south side of town in the Somerset/Poteet area.
The first one we went to I knew right away wasn't going to be what I wanted. When you turn onto a dirt road and the first thing you see is a run down mobile home with rusted out cars sitting around, that's not the kind of neighborhood I want to live in.
The second place was a new subdivision of 5+ acre lots, and there were only two homes built. Both looked really nice, and taking a glance at the land, it looks relatively flat and buildable. We stopped by the office on our way back into town and found out which lots were available and how much they cost. We went back the next day to actually walk some of the lots, which is when we got caught in the rain.
I decided that Juice needed to take a look, so we got Chica to watch the kids for us on Saturday, put on our boots and jeans, and went tromping through the woods on a couple of very nice lots. We decided we like the more expensive of the two, but comparatively speaking, these lots are a steal compared to other lots of similar size in the area. To the tune of $2500/acre less expensive.
I emailed our loan officer and asked what we needed to do to update our loan application. She said that everything looked good and that she could get me a pre-approval letter within a day or two. So we have that in our hot little hands, and now we're just waiting to hear from our realtor. We may be the proud owner of our own little piece of land within the next week or so!
If that happens, you can bet I'll be spending my weekends with a chainsaw and probably buying a used truck.
Whew...fingers are bleeding now. I guess I really need to find time to update more often, because I didn't even get a chance to tell you about the song I heard today that took me way back to my younger years. Next time, my friends.
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