Houses Again

This is the sort of-somewhat Mid Century Modern house in suburban Sacramento that I grew up in. Well, "grew up..." Maybe it's a "coming of age" story. Maybe not.

My mother bought the house in 1962 when I was 13 and I moved out in 1968 when I was 19. I moved back in 1973 (with Ms Ché) when my mother went to work in Stockton, and moved out again in 1975 when Ms Ché and I moved to San Francisco.

The house looked a lot like this when my mother bought it (for something like $17,500).

It looks like this now:

In between time, I painted the exterior avocado green. I planted the Japanese maple trees in the front yard. Most of the shrubbery, though, was there when we moved in. The people who bought the house from my mother in 1985 painted it white and it's been white ever since. They also made some slight landscaping adjustments and replaced the garage and entry doors. Other than that, it's pretty much the same as when I lived there. As far as I know, the address board I made in 9th grade shop class is still over the garage door.

The house had three bedrooms and two baths, built in electric range and oven in the kitchen, hardwood floors in the main rooms, a used brick fireplace in the living room as well as a wall of floor to ceiling windows with a sliding glass door to the backyard, but not much else. It was plain to the point of Spartan. There is just over 1250 square feet of living area.

The house was built in 1957 with a vaguely "Japanese" exterior, but there were dozens of other houses with the same floor plan in the neighborhood, and there were three exterior designs to choose from: contemporary, Japanese, or farmhouse. The interiors were all the same; the exteriors were actually more similar than not.

Every once in a while, one of these houses goes up for sale, generally listing between $270,000 and $300,000, and so far, none of the ones I've seen listed has undergone a gut renovation. In fact, most have had only normal repairs and replacement updates. Floors and appliances have been replaced in the kitchens, maybe a built in dishwasher has been added and the original sink replaced. Sometimes the kitchen cabinets and countertops have been replaced along with the appliances, but just as often, the original cabinetry remains. Bathrooms have had vanities installed and perhaps bigger mirrors and better lighting, Central air conditioning has probably been installed. The original aluminum windows have likely been changed out for vinyl. Roofs have been replaced. Decor has changed a bit from the 1950s. But otherwise the houses with this floor plan that I've seen listed were very similar to the one I grew up in.

This kitchen, for example, is almost exactly the same as the one in our house -- but for the newer appliances and the lighter stain or wash on the cabinets.



Even the countertop appears to be the same as in our house or very similar to it. Ours was this pattern Formica (Skylark):

And about that countertop, though installed in 1957, it featured something that's become ubiquitous on the home remodeling shows: a breakfast bar.

Though it doesn't show very well in this picture, the "breakfast bar" was about a 12" extension of the counter with an 8" overhang.

Though there are no barstools in the picture, we had two rattan and wrought iron ones (very popular back in the day) and from time to time we would sit at the counter having... ta da... breakfast. Note, there are no pendant lights over the counter-bar. There wouldn't have been in those days!

The cabinets were oak veneered plywood and had a sort of butternut finish. In this house, it looks like the finish was stripped and a pale yellow wash or bleach was applied. They're not painted. But they are the same cabinets. The hardware is hammered copper and is original. The tile pattern flooring appears to be vinyl and would have replaced stone pattern linoleum -- yes, real linoleum which was still widely available and very popular back then.

The problem we found with this linoleum was that the finish wore off rather quickly. We replaced the linoleum with vinyl asbestos tiles within a few years of moving in. Also a note for those who have pets and would like to have real linoleum floors today: think about it long and hard. Pet urine will destroy the linoleum surface in a twinkling. It cannot be restored. Word to the wise. Pet urine on hardwood floors can be even more destructive though repairs are possible.

The light fixtures don't have the original "space-the-final-frontier" globes, and just like us, the householder has replaced them with plain white spheres. I noted that some houses listed for sale had the original light globes, which I'm sure delighted Mid-Century fans and probably disgusted HGTV fans. The whole kitchen would throw them into a tizzy of horror and disgust. Sixty year old Formica?! Ewww! Must have granite! Marble! Quartz! What is that sink? Must have farmhouse apron sink! And that built in range and oven must date from the '70s! (Can you imagine what they'd think of the original appliances from the 1950s??) Who could stand to use them? They must be gross if they work at all. And electric???! Horrors! Rip it out and put in a Wolf or one of the other high end "dream" free-standing gas range. Those cabinets are soooooo dated. Rip them out too. Subway tile and open shelves are much better above the counter, and those lower cabinets are soooo ugly! How could any body live that way! Need recessed lighting, crown molding, and PENDANTS!!! over the breakfast bar! Stat!

Then the HGTV fan realizes the kitchen is really tiny, barely 10'x10' and there's no room for an island. How can you cook in it! Rip it out to the studs and incorporate the adjacent space (originally called a "family room" but it's only 10'x10' too) to make something at least potentially...something!

Here's a view of the kitchen and "family room" from another angle:

Yes, those false beams were in our house too. There's a built in dishwasher in the picture which would have been added later -  whenever the rest of the appliances would have been replaced. Our range and oven went out in the '70s.  We had a portable dishwasher. The picture makes the kitchen and "family room" look much larger than they are. No, I recall they were very cramped especially when we had parties.

Rip it all out right away! You have to! Can't live like this! [Per HGTV, This Old House, etc.]

The problem is there's no place to expand these rooms without taking space from others. Beyond the double window in the "family room" is a side yard that's barely 6' wide if that. Out the door on the right is the garage. Some homeowners expanded the "family room" into the garage space by six feet or so, but that's about as far as you could go without making the garage too small to accommodate autos. 

There's a laundry area in the garage on the kitchen side of the door in the picture. It was interesting. The electric water heater was on family room side of the door. On the kitchen side, there was just enough space for a washer and dryer, but nothing else. There was no vent for the dryer if you had one (but there was a 240v plug to plug one in on the assumption you'd get one.) The dryer location was on the door side of the space rather than the exterior wall, so a vent had to be installed by the washer, and a vent hose had to be run behind the washer. Once that was done, the dryer vented into an alcove by the front door. Not exactly best practice, I would think.

On the other side of the house was the living room. The picture of this living room is remarkably similar to our own:

The wall by the fireplace wasn't paneled in our house and the far wall in the dining area featured various wall papers over the years. It also had a high capacity room air conditioner punched through the wall high up. 

Sacramento is notorious for hot summers ("But it's a dry heat!" Feh.). Temperatures above 110° are not unusual. Some people got by in those days with swamp coolers, but when the temps were above about 104° they didn't do much of anything; likewise when humidity was above about 25% they ceased to have much effect on temps.  So for about half the summer, the swamp cooler would simply blow hot, wet air around... 

We got a room air conditioner (from Sears, I believe) for our previous (rental) house -- which we left there -- and got a much larger one for this house. A handyman installed it together with the appropriate 220v electric connection. 

Well, it cooled the living room, "family room" and kitchen reasonably well, but it could not cool the bedrooms. Eventually we got another window air conditioner for the master bedroom, but the other two bedrooms had to make do with fans. I remember being unable to sleep some summer nights because of the heat. Often, however, by early morning a sea breeze would come in from the Bay Area and cool outside temperatures down to tolerable levels. Of course  that could cause problems for the air conditioners. They would ice up if outside temps fell too low and would cease working. It could be a constant struggle to balance outside heat and inside cooling. Over time, most locals shifted to central air conditioning -- which was very expensive to install and operate in those days and I imagine still is -- but we never did. In fact, though I've lived in many different houses in lots of warm climates, I've never lived in one with central air conditioning. Hm. How about that? [It can get warm in the summertime where we are now in New Mexico, sometimes over 100°, but we make do with a couple of portable air conditioners and one window unit.]

Books! -- and Other "Nice Things"

Crespi, "Music Library," 1720

The last few days before The Big Move were a whirlwind of packing and disposing and re-packing and disposing of the huge number of Things (some of them quite nice) we had accumulated over our own lifetimes and the lifetimes of several others.

We were delighted to give things to people who helped or to donate them to charity; but a lot of stuff went to the dump. Now that we're unpacking -- slowly -- in New Mexico, we've been wondering why we brought some of the stuff we did to our home here and why we disposed of some of the things we did (that we now see we either need or would enjoy and use if we still had them.)

Sometimes we laugh over what's "lost," while sometimes there are real -- if temporary -- pangs over nice things we "should have kept" but didn't or couldn't due to lack of space.

We hadn't moved in many years, but prior to settling down a couple of decades ago we were moving constantly, several times a year, so we'd pared our stuff down to essentials that we could pack into a station wagon and (sometimes) a trailer and head to our next destination. We could move most or all of it ourselves without additional help and we didn't need a truck -- or, except briefly, did we need to put things in storage for later sorting and disposition.

But once we settled, we started accumulating (we called it "collecting"), and that accumulation became our main burden during the final days and weeks of The Big Move. What to do with it?

The problem was compounded by the fact that our house in New Mexico was already fully furnished and quite liveable without a single additional item at all -- and it already had its own assortment of "collectibles".

What to do?

Though we gave away or donated hundreds of books, perhaps 90% of what we sent out to New Mexico via truck turned out to be... paper. Books primarily. Boxes and boxes of them. Thousands of volumes. Much other paper as well:  Writings, newspaper clippings about ourselves, scripts by the box full (most by others), ancestral documents, memories and souvenirs, photographs. There was a lot of stuff we don't need but couldn't just throw away because it has ID information on it (like SS numbers and such). It would have taken too long to shred it all. So we brought it with us to shred here. (But we didn't have room to pack a shredder!)

As we settle in here, though, we miss some stuff that is now gone, "nice things" that we used all the time in California and could definitely use here, though there are substitutes here for everything that was left behind. In other words, we don't lack for anything. Far from it.

The sense of loss was hard for a while. We had so many "nice things" in California, much of which is now either in other hands or disposed of. But we have plenty of "nice things" in New Mexico. Too much as we're coming to understand.

So part of our task since we've been here is... getting rid of stuff. Paring down. Simplifying.

Re-conceptualizing our lifestyle.

I think that happens to most people who move here.

Unpacking

Moving In to a cabin in the woods, some time in the 19th Century

We're inundated with boxes at the moment and we're facing a deadline to get them off the truck trailer that's parked in the drive. Our helpers sort of vamoosed, the way they do, so it's up to a couple of old farts to de-box the truck. We're getting there.

Halloween and All Saints/Soul's Day were a hoot; everything seemed to happen at once.

Two buildings were delivered and set up on Halloween, one to serve as a studio, the other to serve temporarily ("") for  storage. The dude who brought them and wrangled them around the place was one of those folks we encounter in New Mexico all the time, mostly carefree and chatty. We had a great time yakking about everything under the sun while he literally drove the little studio building (on a sort of semi-forklift gizmo with extra wheels at the end of the building) out to the back of the house and set it up and then did the same with the storage building. His name was Scotty and he was from Colorado -- where his family still is. He was in construction until the bottom fell out of the real estate market, and he said he was unemployed except for odd jobs for four years until just a few months ago when he got this gig in New Mexico delivering and setting up buildings like he was doing for us. He comes down here usually twice a month for delivery and set up all over northern New Mexico. He said he likes it -- and he did it well.

Later, when we thought we had plenty of Halloween candy for the trick-or-treaters, we quickly learned otherwise. We're in a small community, and this is the first Halloween we've spent here. In our urban environment in California we rarely ran out of Halloween candy, because there just weren't that many trick-or-treaters coming around. We figured that twice as much candy would serve the purpose here, but within an hour of the first visitors, it was gone. I had to run out and get some more, and by the time the tide subsided, there were literally only two pieces of candy left.

Where did all these kids come from? I don't think the total population around here amounts to the number of kids who flocked to our door. Sometimes the street outside was literally jammed with kids, parents, cars, pickups, police, and what have you (the police were keeping an eye on the crowds). In town, there was a big outdoor Halloween party for the kids, and the stores were welcoming trick-or-treaters, too. We've never seen anything like it for Halloween. And it was fun, too. All the kids were polite, some were very creative with their costumes, their parents were with them and it was great to meet some of the people who are now our neighbors. But others, we're convinced, came from all around the county. There just aren't that many residents here!

Yesterday, we had to call the drain-cleaner service because the sewer line from the house was clogged -- again. It happened much the same way (only it was December) about 3 years ago, and we thought it was much worse than it turned out to be. We called the local people this time, same ones who did the work last time, only this time, they were booked till next week. So it was time for Roto-Rooter out of Albuquerque. They came within a few hours, quite laid back the two of them, having a grand time out here in the country. They cleared out drain -- it's a root problem that happens particularly in the dry fall and early winter, we really can't do much to prevent it. The trees are old and they will find water. But if it's only every three years, I guess it's OK.

At the same time the drain was being cleared, the truck arrived with our stuff from California (that which didn't fit in the van or go in to storage in CA). What fun. We got that set up while the drain people were finishing, and of course just then, the cell-phone people had to call to take care of my complaint about not receiving my minutes for November. Everything at once, as I said.

Eventually, everything started settling down -- whew -- and we decided to go for an Anniversary and Welcome to New Mexico dinner at the County Line in Albuquerque. It was really nice. Close to perfect.

So today we're unpacking the truck trailer, packing the boxes into the storage building, finding places for the few pieces of furniture we brought, and gasping at the wonderful weather, enjoying the beauty of the sky and the trees, and learning to pace ourselves at this altitude.

Meanwhile, the cleanup on the East Coast is looking more and more nightmarish. The aftermath of The Storm is looking far worse than initially believed it would be, and I can only express my profound sympathy for what the survivors must be going through. I've seen a number of "new normal" articles and pieces on the teevee that propose that we are actually past the climate change tipping point, and we will have to live with these kinds of events for the foreseeable future. I have no particular reason to doubt it.  Too late to do anything about it seems to be the operative theory. But when Our Betters start with the notion that "there's nothing to be done" -- as I'm sure they did, just as they did with the problem of unemployment, among many other issues and problems they don't give a good gott-damb about -- then of course nothing happens for the better.

As long as they can profit, Our Betters don't care.

And they are profiting, magnificently.

Moving

We no longer have a home in California.

We arrived at our place in New Mexico at 4am this morning after a very late start. The drive took longer for some reason than it has in the past -- probably because we had to stop several times for cat-naps. We did not leave our place in California until nearly midnight, arriving at our "mid-way" motel stop in Bakersfield at almost 5am on Sunday morning; we left there at about 10am for the rest of the drive east. A cat has been traveling with us -- she was really wonderfully well behaved. The red van is completely loaded with paintings, R.C. Gorman prints and posters, some antiques, and -- get this -- stuffed animals. In addition, all our personal items are packed into the void spaces including clothes.

We found we had to rent a storage unit in California for the stuff we didn't have room for in the van or the truck and didn't have time to give or throw away. Much time and effort Saturday was taken up with that project.

A truck has been on the way here way for several days and is supposed to be in Albuquerque on Tuesday; we've arranged to have it brought out to our place on Thursday. A couple of accessory buildings are supposed to be delivered either Tuesday or Wednesday, one for temporary storage of mostly books (oh, the books!) until we can get the garage here renovated. I realize now I should have concentrated on doing that before doing some of the other improvements on the place. Better late than never.

The other building is supposed to become a studio -- basically a retreat in the back yard for whatever creative endeavor is underway.

These are both pre-built in Milan (NM), brought on a truck, and placed where we want via forklift.

The complete transition will probably take several more weeks, but it seems much more possible now than it once did.

My posting will be light for a while and most of the focus is liable to be on the minutiae of the move. There are many stories to tell (!).

Oh, I saw from the "news" that the main story is The Storm vs The Election; at least Romney has his priorities straight and was campaigning in Ohio this morning.

OT: Quick Update

Leaving New Mexico for California tomorrow morning.

Got done most of what I came out here to do -- overgrowth mowed, storage arranged for, appraisal done, cell phone minutes rescued, van emptied... etc.

The weather has been spectacular. Just beautiful early Autumn crisp, clear days, little wind, the leaves are just starting to turn, a little chilly in the morning, nice and warm in the afternoon. Beautiful.

Meanwhile, in California, the Cat Bite Saga seems to have resolved positively. No rabies series. Healing is nearly complete -- some internal scar tissue that ought to be absorbed, nothing else but some "dots" where the fangs went in. Amazing.

Many arrangements still to be made, including the final packing and hauling, utilities services terminated, painting and other matters taken care of.

The whirlwind continues, but we're seeing the dim but growing light out there suggesting this phase is just about done...

OT: About This Complicated Life Thing

Been working up to 18 hours a day on the final preps for the move and have not had much energy available for the interwebs and such. This is hard physical labor which I used to be able to do -- twenty years ago -- but not so much any more. Clearing out the accumulated detritus of the last twenty years (and more, a good deal more) from the garage has been the primary obstacle to moving forward on other projects; it has taken much longer than I anticipated. Someday, I'll show pictures. Or maybe not. Snarf.

Nevertheless, it is nearly done. And now I have to drive like a demon to New Mexico to unload some stuff there, meet with the appraiser (the refi is going forward bit by bit), pick up mail, chop the weeds somewhat, then hightail it back to CA to finish the job of moving out.

Most difficult, perhaps, is dealing with all the memories of so many adventures, difficulties, successes and failures, so many projects, so much written material, so many scripts submitted (I found three full boxes of them, plus others -- many others -- scattered throughout a dozen other boxes. These were scripts submitted to the theater; of them, approximately 110 received at least a staged reading, several dozen were produced by us.)

Not all the memories are happy ones (! ha !) but most are, and that's kind of wonderful given how problematical what we've been doing is.

Many tons of debris have been jettisoned. The jewels have (mostly) been kept.

Onward.
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(UPDATE): Yay. The appraisal has been rescheduled to next week, so I don't have to race hell for leather to NM today and tomorrow and can leave this weekend instead. Yay.  Various things were going on this morning, and one of them turned out to be a phone call from NM regarding the appraiser being in Grants just before the time appointed for our appraisal. It's an hour and a half drive if there isn't a wreck that shuts down I-40 for a shorter or longer period. Better than all of us trying to race from place to place, we can take it a little bit easier.

The Crunch Continues

We're still in Crunch Mode here at Casa Ché, only now with (minor) injuries!

There's far more to this 'moving out' business than I anticipated (isn't there always?) but the Goodwill down the street is delighted with us and wonders when the donations will stop.

A friend, of course, calls to cheer us on: "Don't forget," he says, "you're Old now, and you can't really do even half of what you think you can." Well, thanks, I say. Thanks a lot. Now sit down before you fall down and break your own hip. Heh.

Onward!