New Latitude, Episode 4: Tossin’ and Turnin’ in Tucson

If you’ve been following my current blog series, New Latitude, you’ll know I’m moving 2,000 miles northeast, and that my offer on a house I’ve seen only via the internet was accepted. I don’t usually toss and turn, but buying a house like this, and moving across the country in the middle of a pandemic, can change a person. And I have no one to blame for my recent sleepless nights but myself.

Oh, and I also blame my upstairs neighbor, a young guy who plays loud music, has squeaky floors (and a squeaky bed), and owns a shrill alarm clock that wakes me up at five a.m., five days a week. I’m really looking forward to getting out of here, and into my own home, where I can sleep as late as I want to and play my own loud music!

Last week I closed on the house, and I’m now the proud owner of … well … we’ll find out just what it is that I’m the proud owner of in about four weeks, when I finally get to set actual eyes on the place.

I realize I’m one of the lucky ones, seeing as I’m retired, I’m healthy, and I’ve managed to secure an appointment for my first COVID vaccine. But meanwhile (or quarantinewhile), here are some of the challenges I’ve been dealing with regarding my upcoming move:

• New date! The mortgage company changed the closing date and gave me about a week’s notice to get my banking act together. Inconveniently, that week included a federal holiday (MLK Jr. Day) and the U.S. Presidential inauguration (which I also thought might be a bank holiday). I needed an in-person appointment to withdraw my funds, and appointments that week were scarce! On top of that, my lawyer didn’t know the exact amount I needed to send him yet. I managed to secure an appointment on a Tuesday, learned the final amount on Wednesday, and the wire transfer went through on Thursday. That part had to be requested by me using an online form. The confusing instructions I was given referred to a “title company” but, being just a regular human being, I did not know what that was. I took a guess that it was the bank holding my mortgage, and pressed “send.”
• Not signed? After I electronically signed one of the necessary forms, the person at the other end said it wasn’t signed, although it was … I checked … and I wasn’t able to sign it again. It all got sorted out eventually.
• Am I insured? My homeowner’s insurance account listed two different effective dates. When I called it to their attention, they said it was just a glitch and not to worry. Right! Tell that to my pillow when I’m crying into it at night!

• Misspelling! My realtor’s name was spelled wrong on one of the forms (the bank’s error) and needed to be retyped during the closing.
• Whew! The wire went through, the forms got corrected, the closing was conducted on Friday via FaceTime … and after an hour of signing papers, I was congratulated on being a new homeowner! At least I think I was … it’s all a blur.
• Vaccination Plans! I’d been hoping to get both COVID vaccines here in Arizona before I moved (I’m in group 1b) … then because of the delays in vaccine distribution, I thought I’d get the first one here, then get the second in New York. Luckily, I checked this plan with the hotline in New York and they said no, I’d have to get both in the same state. I was able to get an appointment for the first one in New York, even though I’ll have to drive 300 miles from my new home to the vaccination site.
• Managing the Move: I then spent countless hours determining how and when to leave Arizona (and who would move me). I needed a spreadsheet and flow chart to time my arrival in New York early enough to factor in a 10-day quarantine (required by the state), settle into my new home, and then drive to my vaccine appointment.
• Moving Supplies: Normally I would just go to grocery stores, ask for empty boxes, and drive to U-Haul for other supplies. But as we know, things are not normal. I ordered boxes, tape, and bubble wrap online and got to work packing, taping, and labeling. I ran out and had to re-order. May have to do it again!
• Anti-COVID Supplies: I bought a good supply of masks (I’m planning to double-mask), sanitizer, gloves, wipes, etc. I also made a list of food and supplies to bring in the car, in order to minimize stops along the way.
• AAA SNAFUs: I called AAA for route suggestions and a list of COVID-safe, pet-friendly hotels, and they were glad to oblige. Unfortunately, they snail-mailed the info to one of my old addresses. They also said they’d email me a copy. I never received either. When I contacted them again, they said they’d re-send the email with my correct address (but didn’t). When I called a third time, they finally got it right.
• Snow Patrol: I’d probably be driving through snow, so I bought a snow brush and ice scraper on Amazon, ordered more warm socks, and checked to make sure I knew where my gloves and hat were hidden. We don’t use them too often here in Tucson, but we do on days like this:

• Car Headaches: My car dealership had recently recommended that I buy two new tires and change my differential fluid (they wanted to charge me $700). I decided to go to my trusted mechanics down the road instead. When they saw my car, they informed me that I do not need two new tires and that they could not in good conscience sell me any. Further, my differential fluid was very clean and did not need to be changed. I then purchased a tire tread gauge (curbside pickup!) and double-checked the tire tread depth myself — and triple-checked by taking the car to a second tire store (again, curbside service!) — and everyone agreed that the dealership was trying to rip me off. I paid $50 for some new windshield wipers and an air filter and felt just fine about never returning to my car dealership again.

For the record, I’m not holding any of these SNAFUs against anyone, because I know times are tough and people are overworked, underpaid, and doing the best they can.

And even though I’ve been tossing and turning, I’ve recently discovered a way to cope! And I owe my new attitude to three excellent documentaries. Which ones, you ask?

Well, I hate to leave you hanging, but this blog post has gone on long enough. Please stay tuned, because very soon I’ll be blogging about those three documentaries, and how they improved my attitude. See you during the next exciting installment of New Latitude!

New Latitude, Episode 2: Do’s and Don’ts

Previously, on New Latitude:

After having moved from upstate New York to Tucson, Arizona seventeen years ago in search of a decent climate and better job, I’d come to a realization. I’d had my fill of blue skies. I was sick of sunsets that bathed the mountains in rosy hues each night. I hated wearing sandals in January. Authentic tacos were the worst. And all those darned hummingbirds! I longed for upstate New York, where the winters are brutal, the summers are humid and mosquito-filled, and there’s only one hummingbird – the ruby-throated – to identify, if it ever shows up at all.

Ruby-throated hummingbird. Image by Susan Killian @ Pixabay

No wait … none of that’s true, except for the first sentence. Rewind!

What I really meant to say was this: I’ve loved living in Tucson, but the pandemic had called a sudden halt to my regular flights back home to New York State to see my family. Who knew when I could travel there again? Call me loco, but I decided to relocate – to Rochester, where I’d be within a day’s drive of my entire immediate family. Sure, winters would be less than wonderful, but I could at least gaze upon my family’s frozen faces in person, instead of on a computer screen. Besides, the lease on my apartment was coming up for renewal. It was time for a new direction, so I took my first baby step: “Zillow-surfing.” 

And now for Episode 2: Do’s and Don’ts (of buying a house)

Zillow-surfing brought me up close and personal with hundreds of houses, without ever having to set foot in them. I got to see the good, the bad, the ugly, and in some cases, the dirty laundry. Through Zillow-surfing, I made some major decisions, like:

— rent vs. buy

— 1 bath vs. 2

— ¼ acre vs. 10 acres and a barn

— fenced yard backing up to private woods vs. unrestricted view of the auto body shop next door.

Image by Harald Dona @ Pixabay.

Once I’d narrowed my choices down, I started to get excited. But the more excited I became, the more impulsively I acted. I guess I got carried away and ignored common sense.

If you, too, are considering buying a home, here’s some unsolicited advice:

1. DON’T rule out renting an apartment before buying a house you’ve seen only on the internet. Photoshop can give houses an instant makeover that’s even more amazing than the ones you’ve seen on Fixer Upper.
2. DON’T cancel your Disney Channel and Hulu Plus subscriptions in the hopes these sacrifices will enable you to afford a house above your means. You’ll soon come to regret your decision, especially if you haven’t seen enough of “Cuomo Prime Time” or “Hamilton” yet.
3. DON’T fool yourself into believing you’re a skilled negotiator. You’ll just be disappointed in yourself.
4. DON’T buy a house in a “hot market” city, especially if it happens to be during a “seller’s market.”
5. DON’T waive an engineering inspection.
6. DON’T commit to making up the difference between the purchase price and the bank appraisal.
7. DON’T mail a sizable deposit to the seller without confirming you’ve written the check on the correct bank account — the one with sufficient funds — and not the other one, the one with only $33 in it.
8. DON’T buy a house in the winter and plan on leaving the house vacant until spring. Pipes in vacant homes have been known to freeze and burst.
9. DON’T buy a house during a pandemic without knowing when a vaccine will be available. You’ll want protection while driving cross-country, and I’m not talking about a bodyguard (although that would be nice).
10. DON’T buy an 8-foot couch and two recliners immediately before deciding to move.

By the way, I’m guilty of all of the above.

Image by Gerd Altmann @ Pixabay.

Oh, and DON’T hire a moving van without shopping around. Luckily, I HAVE been shopping around, and the estimates differ wildly — as in a low of $2,800, and a high of — don’t laugh — $14,000. That’s not a typo! “Two Men and a Truck” wanted to charge $12,000 to $14,000 to move a two-bedroom apartment. That must be some classy moving truck they have. And speaking of trucks, did they think I just fell off a turnip truck?

Yeah, those are pumpkins, not turnips. Good eye!
Image by Sweethearts82 @ Pixabay.

On the plus side, interest rates are low right now, so I took the plunge. I bid on a house, and my offer was accepted. And don’t worry, I think I got a sweet deal, an engineer looked at the house before I bid on it, the bank waived their appraisal, the check eventually cleared, and I’m hoping the vaccine will become available soon … for everyone’s sake.

Yes, moving is going to be a pain, and yet I feel good about my decision. Sometimes you just have to take a chance and DO some of the DON’Ts.

Tune in again next time for the next exciting episode of New Latitude, in which I’ll reveal the outcome of my mortgage application! (It’s still a mystery to me.)

(I’ve Got a) New Latitude

… or at least I’ll have one come spring, if all goes well with my move from Tucson, Arizona to Rochester, New York.

And, à la Patti LaBelle, I’ve got a new attitude as well. (Be sure to click the link and hear Patti belt it out on New Attitude, written in 1984 for the film Beverly Hills Cop.)

What’s more, just like The Jeffersons (an American tv series from 1975-85), I’m movin’ on up … from the 32nd to the 43rd parallel, to be precise. (The link will take you to Ja’net DuBois and a 35-member gospel choir singing the show’s theme song.)

Yes, I’m moving 2,000 miles in the midst of a global pandemic. Hopefully, I’ll have my vaccine by the time I leave, and so will most of the rest of the world. Fingers crossed.

To keep you informed about my journey’s progress, I’ll be blogging about it, just as I did a year and a half ago when I took a three-day train trip in the opposite direction (and lived to tell the tale) in my blog series, “TRAIN TRACKER.” I’m calling this new series, “NEW LATITUDE.”

And now, for Episode 1, which I envision being narrated by Meryl Streep:

When the pandemic hit, I was one of the lucky ones. I was able to work from home, and then I retired, which I’d been planning on doing anyway. I started Zooming with friends. My classes and clubs continued on the web. I ordered groceries online and I did curbside pickup. I made masks, baked, practiced guitar, and polished my book manuscript. Hell, the grocery store even delivered wine. What more could I ask for? Well, I’ll tell you what more I could ask for: the opportunity to see my family, in person.

You see, as Paul Simon sings in The Boxer, I’d “left my home and my family” 17 years earlier for a better job and a warmer climate. And by family, I mean two grown daughters, my mother, four siblings, and my entire extended family. And then, 5 years ago, a grandson came along, and then another. Can you blame me for wanting to move back?

Porter

Elliot

For every year I’ve lived in Tucson, I’ve wondered if I made the right decision in moving out here. Don’t misunderstand: I love Tucson. It’s dry, sunny, friendly, has great food, hiking, and bicycling, beautiful desert scenery, great sunsets – I could go on and on. But living 2,000 miles from family meant flying back and forth at least once a year to keep in touch. I’d done that without too much concern for 17 years, but for the last 3 of those years, I’d been seriously considering moving back. I have lovely friends here in Arizona, but I was beginning to feel my family slipping away. (If you follow me, you may recall reading about this dilemma in my post, “Was I Loco to Relocate?“)

Luckily, I’ve had my dog, Maya, to comfort me during the pandemic while I thought this through. You remember Maya, don’t you, from “Pandemic Paws” and “Battle of Wits“? If you do, you can rest assured that she’s doing much better these days — no longer the stressed-out anxiety-ridden dog I’d adopted in June. But if anyone needed therapy, it was me.

Months of living through the pandemic forced me to face facts. It was now or never. I wasn’t getting any younger, and if I didn’t make a move soon, I might never get the chance again. So, one day, I logged onto the real estate site, Zillow, and started surfing. I later learned that I wasn’t the only one doing that. The New York Times recently reported that Zillow-surfing has become something of a national pastime.

Surfing in the morning, surfing in the evening, surfing at suppertime. Would my search for a new home on Zillow end in success?

Would I ever find happiness?

Find out the answer to that and other burning questions in the next exciting episode of NEW LATITUDE!

Was I Loco to Relocate?

via Daily Prompt: Relocate

The year that I decided to relocate (2003) was, for me, the Year of the Butterfly Effect. Looking back on that year, it was as if a tiny butterfly had landed squarely in the middle of my life (in the middle of a parking lot, actually) and triggered a life-altering sequence of events. I didn’t notice the butterfly at the time. Butterflies are like that. You don’t always see them, except out of the corner of your eye.

My butterfly was actually a tiny change in water temperature.

It was a frigid February morning in upstate New York, one of many I’d had to endure that winter. I was standing perfectly still on a sheet of thin ice in a parking lot, about to open my car door. The next thing I knew, I was lying flat on my back. My head had bounced a little as I landed. The ice under my boots must have started to melt just as I moved to open my car door. As I struggled to my feet, I heard myself declare, “That’s it, I’m moving.”

The early 2000s had been difficult. First there was 9/11. Then my ten-year destructive relationship had ended (again). Someone had tried to sue me. (They lost the case but I’d had to pay a lawyer). My roof was leaking. My fence had been blown down by high winds. A person I’d confided in (whined to?) suddenly had become less supportive. And to top it all off, it had been a record-breakingly cold winter.

I needed a change — some sunshine, a better-paying job, a fresh start. I thought moving to a warmer climate might solve everything. Hitting my head on a solid sheet of ice was just the incentive I needed to get moving.

I thought about where I might want to live. I was open to pretty much any warm state in the continental U.S. except Alabama, Mississippi, Arkansas, Texas, and all of the midwest. Not too picky, huh?

In March, I went to the library and borrowed videos on Florida, Arizona, and Virginia. After deciding that Florida was too flat, I applied on line for jobs in Arizona and Virginia. In April, I interviewed in both places and received two good offers: one in Arizona and one in Virginia. I couldn’t decide between the two. Virginia was lovely, and closer to most of my immediate family, but my brother lived in Arizona. He called me one morning and asked, “Why don’t you move out here where you’ll already know someone?” It was the gentle nudge of a butterfly wing. I decided to take the job in Arizona.

In May, I put my house on the market and discovered that the roof wasn’t the only thing leaking — there also was a leaking oil tank buried under my front yard. I’d had no idea it was there, but I gladly paid for removal and cleanup. I had to make other repairs to my house as well. Somehow, I managed to sell the house quickly, said goodbye to my family, and drove myself, my dog, and my cat 2,000 miles across the country. I started my new job, and my new life, in July, 2003.

In many ways I’m happier now, but being far away from family all these years has been tough. I often ask myself if my decision to move, made under the duress of a few bad years, was the right one. But perhaps there’s no such thing as a right or wrong decision, only good or bad outcomes, which often are beyond our control. We can’t predict the factors that will affect the outcomes. Only later can we say “Oh, that caused that to happen, which caused that, which caused that … etc.”  Being in the moment, we can only try to do our best with the limited information that we have — and hope it all turns out alright.

So, was I loco to relocate? Not at all. Looking back, I know I needed that change, and I needed it badly. It wasn’t just the Butterfly Effect at work. I was thinking things through and agonizing over what to do. It was me. I was the butterfly. But I won’t lie. I still feel the pangs of remorse from time to time, and I think about moving back there. So what’s stopping me? Those long, dark winters, for one …

Instead of relocating, maybe I should just become a snow bird, with residences in two states. Lots of people out here in Tucson (the land of the loco weed) do just that, because it’s getting too hot here in the summers. It’s something to consider. Guess I’ll have to start writing that best-selling novel if I want that to happen.

Meanwhile, I’ll keep my eyes open for butterflies, especially monarchs. They’re good at finding their way home.