Thursday, September 02, 2004
It's been hard to sit down and update this blog. For one thing, Sir died, and the world seems a less dignified place without him. Mom pointed out, though, that both my grandfathers would have appreciated and taken great pride in what I'm doing. I reread Sir's autobiography and marveled at how he built an oil refinery from a book -- "guess I'm a petroleum engineer now!" he wrote, as well as his ability to pick up and move to tackle other seemingly overwhelming projects, such as building a refinery in something like 108 days in Saskatchewan.
Sir's exploits, and Grandpa John's long record of taking risks and committing to projects huge and small, makes me realize I've got developer genes.
I take heart in their courage, entrepreneurship, and -- yes -- fear management.
Mabel and Galusha are on their way, despite lack of posts to this blog. After 2 rebuffings by the city, the architect had his drawings accepted Sept. 25, so our 6- to 8-week countdown to permits is ticking. I love what they told him the first time he went in: "Whoa, you can't just walk in here with drawings anymore." Like, how else? Airlift them in? He learned he had to have an "intake interview," for which the earliest scheduling was days away. During that event, he was told the project was "unbuildable," always a lovely thing to hear after you've spent months -- and thousands.
That last discussion tipped off a circus of lawyering, surveying and recording with the city, the last of which I achieved 10 minutes before the county recorder's office closed, the day before I flew to Billings.
It's visceral, for sure. I still like it.
As much as I want to focus on Mabel and Galusha, on the loan and then the plumbing and electrical schedules, I'm spending a lot more time absorbed in making the sale happen on the ol' bungalow. In the phases of this project, moving next door was the first (done), now we're at the second: unloading the old home. There's last-minute complications, of course, and I am dealing with them starting with the structural engineer I hired six years ago to survey the fire damage.
An added bonus in all these machinations is my ex-real estate agent thinking the sale was his and demanding documentation to prove otherwise. I should have had the nerve to go FSBO from the start.
Sir's exploits, and Grandpa John's long record of taking risks and committing to projects huge and small, makes me realize I've got developer genes.
I take heart in their courage, entrepreneurship, and -- yes -- fear management.
Mabel and Galusha are on their way, despite lack of posts to this blog. After 2 rebuffings by the city, the architect had his drawings accepted Sept. 25, so our 6- to 8-week countdown to permits is ticking. I love what they told him the first time he went in: "Whoa, you can't just walk in here with drawings anymore." Like, how else? Airlift them in? He learned he had to have an "intake interview," for which the earliest scheduling was days away. During that event, he was told the project was "unbuildable," always a lovely thing to hear after you've spent months -- and thousands.
That last discussion tipped off a circus of lawyering, surveying and recording with the city, the last of which I achieved 10 minutes before the county recorder's office closed, the day before I flew to Billings.
It's visceral, for sure. I still like it.
As much as I want to focus on Mabel and Galusha, on the loan and then the plumbing and electrical schedules, I'm spending a lot more time absorbed in making the sale happen on the ol' bungalow. In the phases of this project, moving next door was the first (done), now we're at the second: unloading the old home. There's last-minute complications, of course, and I am dealing with them starting with the structural engineer I hired six years ago to survey the fire damage.
An added bonus in all these machinations is my ex-real estate agent thinking the sale was his and demanding documentation to prove otherwise. I should have had the nerve to go FSBO from the start.
