Yesterday afternoon I dropped off what I hope to be my last rent check. Mandy and I have rented for our entire 6 years of marriage. But we are ready to quit living in lousy apartments. The walls are closing in on us. We have no space for our possessions. Those who have visited us know the spatial constraints we face. Opening a closet subjects one to the risk of an avalanche.
I have some fond, and some not-so-fond, memories of both our Provo and our Lawrence apartments. One day in Provo, Mandy came home to find yellow liquid everywhere in our bathroom. She left me a nasty note insinuating that I had urinated all over the place. Come to find out, the upstairs bathroom had flooded and gravity had made us victims of the flood. Did she really think that I would pee all over the bathroom? My aim is bad, but not that bad.
Jane enjoys when our current landlord comes over to fix things. She asks him if he's "trying to fix it." He's trying all right. He does the shoddiest work imaginable. He'll slap a band-aid on a gaping wound and call it good. Extreme cheapness must be a universal trait of landlords. Also partial deafness and unfettered greed.
And I have especially despised being in such close quarters with my neighbors, some of whom have all their teeth. I never want to hear another neighbor's baby cry again, I get enough of that with my own kids. I never want to smell what my neighbors are smoking or having for dinner. I never want to hear their phone conversations or their toilet flushing or their sneezes. I don't want to know when they are in the shower. I never want to question how loud I can be in my own residence. When we move in to the new house, I am going to run around the house, maybe topless, yelling as loud as I can, just because I can. And Jane can ride her bus around at all hours of the night for all I care. The privacy and freedom will be very sweet. Expensive, but sweet.
I estimate that Mandy and I have spent, during our 6 years together, $36,500 just on rent. We have been slaves to our landlords. Who are these characters that take my money every month? Our current landlord, a kind but elderly gentleman, recently shocked his tenants by first dyeing a patch of his hair red, then a few weeks later dyeing all of his hair a light brown color. It looks ridiculous but I told him he looks 25 years younger.
As I handed him the check yesterday, he stated that it is a sad day for him, as it likely symbolizes the last time one of his tenants will knock on his door on the first day of the month with a rent check in hand. I told him today, for Mandy and I, is a day of celebration, because we are no longer enslaved in the landlord/tenant relationship. He tried to get me to stay, but I politely declined his invitation. My days as a tenant are over.
No question, being a tenant has its benefits. The first time something breaks in the new house, I'll instinctively open the phone to dial the landlord. But I'll quickly remember that I am the landlord, the master of the dwelling, the king of the castle, and as such I bear the burden of repair. I hope Dad is ready for some bizarre phone calls.
I am empowered at the thought of owning my own piece of real property. In Olde England, only the property owners could vote and hold positions of authority in the community. I am entering an elite social class. I soon will be both the landlord and the tenant. I'll have my own curtilage. I'll be a fee simple owner. A joint tenant with right of survivorship. A mortgagor. Able to claim the homestead exemption. I'll deduct my property tax and interest payments from my federal taxes. It will be beautiful. Until something breaks.
So here are some more pictures of the house for Brad and Mandy to see what we have been doing for the last three months. Sorry they are not in order and there are duplicates, but I am still learning how to work this blog. Thank you all for your enthusiasm and support over the last nine months as we have been obbsessed with the new house. Hopefully can now settle in and just enjoy it all.
