Tag: knoxville

Signed, sealed, and closed

We closed on our house Thursday. It was a wild week, starting the previous Thursday when the buyers closed on their house and…didn’t have a place to live. Not sure why this didn’t occur to them before, but we let them move into our house early in anticipation of a Tuesday closing.

Monday, it poured rain. The roof started to leak. The roof started to leak through the ceiling. Derek called our roofer; no answer. Our agent gave us the name of a roofer; no answer. He finally called back and said it would run around $500. Gah.

It continued to pour rain on Tuesday, but that didn’t matter. Derek drove up to Knoxville for the closing at 10 a.m., and the title people were looking at him funny. Turns out the closing was delayed, and no one told him. Whoops.

Turns out the closing was delayed because the inspector for the buyers’ FHA loan was really drilling down into the regulations and asking for some pretty specific modifications from us, except no one told us because the buyers, decently, decided that since they were the ones getting the FHA loan the modifications should be their responsibility. Only they couldn’t get them done in time and get them inspected, so the closing had to be delayed. And then our agents crossed wires.

Once Derek found all of this out, he calmed down a few degrees, but he was pretty steaming mad at first. He’s so easy-going and hard to ruffle, so watch out if he gets mad, because it’s probably for a good reason. That’s why I hate it when he’s mad at me, because that means I’ve really screwed up.

Thursday came, and they weren’t sure until the last moment if the closing would even happen because they were waiting on final-final approval from the FHA guy, who finally came through.

So, it’s done. Odd how easy it is to buy or sell a house, really, with a few signatures and promises.

After almost eight months of us being real estate tycoons (which is a nice way of saying we were carrying two mortgages), I thought I would be relieved about getting rid of the albatross that is the old house. But it’s so final; that part of our lives is really officially over. And it was a happy time, one I’m not eager to close the door on. Two of our kids were born nine blocks down the street and were brought home as hours-old newborns. My home office, my sanctuary, is now the new owners’ bedroom (I didn’t see it but Derek did, and I’m glad I didn’t because it would have been too much).

In our old dining room.

And now, we move forward. We fix the gutters on the new house, and perhaps pick up some patio furniture on clearance for the screened-in porch. We get used to driving a distance to Kroger, the library, church…and an even further distance to get Magpies and turbinado sugar from the Three Rivers Market.

And we make memories here, in our mountain house.

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September 22nd, 2012
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Road Rage

I’d forgotten how much I hate driving.

Not driving per se, but the dumb drivers all around who don’t pay attention, yap on their phones, text on the interstate, drive ten miles below the speed limit in the left lane next to someone else driving ten miles below the speed limit in the right lane, and…oh, never mind.

I just hate having to be on the road. Our last year in Fort Wayne, I had to take Derek to school, then head downtown to work and then back. That drive drove me crazy until I discovered books on tape, and suddenly I was so absorbed in chick lit that I barely noticed what was happening around me.

In Knoxville, we purposely bought a house a mile from First Lutheran so Derek could come home for lunch and we wouldn’t waste huge parts of our day burning gas. And now I’m on Alcoa Highway (aka “I’ll kill ya Highway”) every day taking the kids back and forth to school, and the road rage is mounting, and I’ve got to stop yelling at drivers and speeding because my kids are picking up on it. Books on tape are out because Sophia hates radio noise in the car.

Our countdown is 4 weeks. I’m sad that our time at First Lutheran School is coming to an end, but all those hours back in my day, the anger evaporated, and time to make decent meals will be worth it.

Meanwhile, if you happen to notice a van or small SUV with a “Visit the Lutheran Church Near You” front license plate careening around you with the driver mouthing something angry, just pretend you didn’t see it, and know that not all Lutherans are as bad on the road as I am. Is this what Luther meant by “Sin boldly?” I’m guessing not.

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April 25th, 2012
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Homes, Sweet Homes

I have a bunch of law firm website pages to write, and Jonathan is napping soundly upstairs, but, hey, I’ve got house fever. Won’t you join me? Since everyone keeps asking, here’s the latest in the Roberts buying/selling saga.

Our house

has been on the market for two weeks now. We’ve had five showings, and the last couple to look (on Sunday) asked for utilities information on Monday. Good sign! Later that day our agent said she thinks they’re preparing to make an offer. Squee!

…and then days go by with me palming my phone 24/7 lest I miss the all-important Offer Phone Call.

…and they don’t call, and I go from high hopes to impatience to despair to acceptance. And, after all, it’s only been two weeks. There are other fish in the sea.

…and then, today, our agent tells us they’re lining up financing today. Squee! We’re back in the game, baby. Which is fabulous, because I’m already tired of keeping the house in Show Shape.

Maryville houses

Most of the drama has been 20 miles south of here. Maryville is a smaller community, so there are fewer homes available in the first place. Once you narrow down our criteria (in the city limits because the city schools rock, at least three bedrooms but probably four because I need an office with a door that shuts, and, for Derek, a not-so-old house that has a lower heating bill…not that we don’t love ya, KUB!), we’re left with a pretty small number of homes.

So, we actually found The House quite a while ago. Actually, a guy in the congregation told us about it, having heard about it from a neighbor who is also in the congregation. We looked at it. The house has great bones and horrendous decor, but even putting money in to update, we’d still come out ahead because it’s a buyer’s market.

I can’t explain the entire saga online just yet, but I will say we made a contingency offer on the house, went back and forth, and ultimately decided to go house-hunting this morning.

I picked out four houses to look at. Two of them had sold that week. I picked two more. One was already sold, and the other has renters in it who are “sick” today (the seller’s agent strongly implied they were lying). We started to freak, because really, there aren’t that many four-bedroom houses in Maryville, and these had been on the market for at least 6 months, and all of a sudden someone was buying them up like Monopoly properties!

We looked at two houses this morning and went back to The House. It’s still the one. We made another offer today and measured a bunch of things and I’m trying not to redecorate the entire thing in my head yet until we know for sure.

Key word: trying. Just don’t check Pinterest and bust me, okay?

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Publish date:
February 3rd, 2012
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Unmuzzled

Last night I read over Derek’s letter to the congregation asking for peaceful release to Praise Lutheran. It was long. He said it was long, and I began to read, determined to slash away and cut down to the basics.

Instead, I cried. And then, I cried again today when he read it to the congregation. A lot of them cried, too. It was a hard day. The part that got me sniffling last night:

I promise you, that we will not be strangers. Indeed, six years ago, we were strangers and you welcomed us. Now I reflect that, even though you can remove a man and his family from First Lutheran, however, you cannot remove First Lutheran from the man and his family. Thanks for that gift.

It’s true. First Lutheran was a bright beacon to us six years ago after Derek’s first call fell through because of synodical politics, leaving us devastated and in limbo for six months. We came to Knoxville with high hopes and were not disappointed. First Lutheran is an amazing congregation. We have been so blessed here. I am incredibly sad to leave.

But at least now I can talk about it. That in itself is a relief.

Part of me is really, really excited. Once my dad moved us to St. Louis so he could attend seminary, he unleashed a monster. We moved so many times after that, if a few years went by without a move or a major life change, I had to create my own change. So that part of me that’s always asking, “What’s next?” embraces the adventure. A new house! A new congregation! A new life! A chance to recreate and renew things I’ve always wanted to fix, and use my new mad skilz as a pastor’s wife on a whole new set of victims. And I look forward to seeing Derek grow and change and serve in a new chapter in his ministry.

That said, I’d also finally gotten to the point where I saw the good in longevity, in stability, in the same-old and the routine of a life with the same people through the seasons and the years and all the comfort that entails. It took about four years at First Lutheran to realize, hey, I’m really getting to know these people. I’m making friends! I know all the best places to shop! My baby trees are teenagers! I know how we run the children’s Christmas program and VBS and what we did the last five years in January in LWML!

Beyond my oscillating feelings, there are practical considerations. We have been busy making our house pretty to go on the market…just in case. Derek wanted to wait until he had made a firm decision and everything was official, but I did all the backwards math and with school starting August 1 in Maryville, the clock was ticking on selling our house and buying a new one. His thoughts are with the two congregations, but I have additional concerns: making the transition as easy as possible for my girls. They are nervous, reluctant, and excited, depending on the moment. I convinced Derek that if he decided to stay, we’d have a lovely house that finally looks just the way we want it to. I also discovered that painting is therapeutic.

Though the timing in some ways isn’t perfect for First Lutheran, it is good for our family. Sophia will be starting Kindergarten next year. Kate will begin 4th grade, when all the Maryville kids go to an intermediate school. One of the two is brand spankin’ new, so depending on where we buy a house, she might get to go to that school. Either way, all the kids will be “new kids.”

Jonathan, of course, is happy either way. His family is his home.

Kate asked me last night if Maryville was closer or further away from South Dakota, where their grandparents, aunts and uncles, and cousins live. I said, “It’s further away, but only by 20 minutes.” She sighed heavily. “That’s so far.” I laughed at her, but she’s got a point. Twenty minutes is so far.

 

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January 15th, 2012
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The crucible

In fiction-writing, there’s a concept called the crucible (not to be confused with Arthur Miller’s play of the same name). I think Sol Stein coined the term, but don’t quote me on that. The idea is that, as the author, you design a plot that puts the characters in an untenable situation–one in which, for geographical, timing, or other reasons, they cannot immediately escape or resolve. No choice is clear or perfect or the right or wrong thing to do. Myriad gray areas and factors weigh for or against different actions. People will be happy, people will be hurt.

A crucible makes a riveting storyline, but a stressful life. This whole week of Derek’s deliberating a call to Praise Lutheran has put us in our very own crucible. We love First Lutheran. We have a heart for the ministry at Praise. We are hearing all kinds of feedback from First members that makes it seem impossible to leave. The joy of the members at Praise at the idea of having a pastor soon–one they already know and love–makes it seem impossible not to go. There is no good, clear answer to this question.

Which is why I’m grateful that it’s his call, his deliberation, his decision. Kate said to me yesterday, “I think daddy is stressed out about this call thing. He is very quiet all the time now. We need to be extra nice to him.”

She’s very perceptive.

Other pastor’s wives have told me that these weeks while their husbands are deliberating calls are excruciating. Brutal. Like being in a vacuum, neither here nor there. Awkward.

I was sitting in church this morning thinking, “What if this is one of our last weeks here? I have to enjoy it.” But it was hard. I wanted to cry instead. I wanted to avoid talking to people so I wouldn’t have to hear versions of “don’t go.” (Which, all things considered, is less painful to hear than, “Please go.”)

Thank goodness I got to talk to the wise and wonderful Maggie Karner on Friday. She is brilliant in her job as life and health ministries director for the LCMS, but she could definitely double as a counselor. She reminded me that no matter what Derek decides to do, whether we stay or go, everyone will grow from this exercise. He will have spent time reviewing his ministry and deliberating where he can best serve the Church. Our senior pastor will have to consider his own ministry and how it might look either way. Both churches will have gone through a calling process that ends happily for one church and not so happily for another. Whether he takes the call or stays, the other church will also have to consider its ministry, its path, and what’s next. All good, but painful, things.

It’s hard to be in the middle of a situation and know that God is working through it, but I always see it with crystal clarity later on, when the emotions have subsided and objectivity has triumphed.

In the meantime, can I just hide out for awhile? Thanks.

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December 11th, 2011
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Black Friday on Market Square

I wanted to post a recap of Thanksgiving, but

  • None of my pictures turned out.
  • I don’t know how to capture, in pictures and words, how wonderful it is to have so many great friends to celebrate the day with. Our tradition started six years ago with one family. Sophia was just three days old, neither of the guys had beards, and we only had 2.5 children between us. This year we had 24 people (9 of them children), three turkeys, a million side dishes, and approximately 20,000 calories’ worth of pie.

Thanksgiving 2006, when everyone was much younger.

The food was amazing. Every last bit of it–from the smoked and fried turkeys, mashed and sweet potatoes, pecan-strawberry-spinach salad, pumpkin knot rolls, creamed corn, broccoli cole slaw, green bean casserole, mac & cheese, four kinds of pie and a cheesecake, cake pops decorated as turkeys, and so much more–was totally lip-smacking. And hip-settling, but that’s another story.

I will simply sum it up by saying: We are blessed.

Just one of many great moments from this year.

This afternoon, we went down to Market Square for the annual tree-lighting ceremony. It’s always fun, with free hot chocolate, roasting marshmallows, an appearance by Santa, and live bluegrass. This year, the entire city got the memo that Black Friday at Market Square is much nicer than Black Friday at Wal-Mart. There were definitely moments, trying to move through the crowds, that I felt like hyperventilating, or at least “accidentally” elbowing a few pushy people who were practically stepping on my kids while wildly sloshing their free hot chocolate.

But it got better once we’d fought our way to the front of the live music. Luckily, we got there just when Kate’s piano teacher’s bad started playing. She’s the adorable redhead playing the piano and singing on the left. Kate’s wearing an army green and pink jacket (from Bridget) and Sophia’s in the dark blue coat (also from Bridget!).

So, we’ve done Christmas on Market Square. Now it’s time to back up and prepare for Advent. (I’m starting by changing my blog’s colors to royal Purple and Blue for the season.)

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November 25th, 2011
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