Property Project Part 3: Heating Up

Summer is taking its time to arrive in Rhode Island this year, and no one is complaining because we know it will find us.

We hosted an open house in the middle of June, which felt a little awkward since we still aren't totally moved in (furniture at our Wampanoag AirBnB)... but people who love us showed up and explored the property in the rain, filling the house with laughter and our slightly-overwhelmed hearts with encouragement. 

I'm glad we took the time to share what we're doing before our spare minutes are absorbed by projects we've been waiting to start.

We officially broke ground on June 6th with the addition of a gravel drive connecting the main road behind us to the rear cabin!

This should be a multiplier when it's time to rent it out - short or long term - as it gives the tenant(s) a way to access the unit without parking in our family drive and hiking across our backyard.  We didn't know this was the first step to renovations but when it occurred to us, it was obvious.

Bonus: We got to work with Wolfe Construction a third time.  This is the outfit who filled in the pool at Wampanoag and came back later to trench some much-needed drainage on that property.  Richard and his crew are truly a class act and an impressive self-made small business.  We recently put together that we know the same local billionaire, so that doesn't hurt!

Since Richard had graciously freshened up our barn gravel, Andrew couldn't let the facelift go unfished and tackled the 3rd-floor apartment entrance with the power washer!  Satisfying before/after power washing photos for your pleasure:

June 7 - Unexpected vacancy of the front cabin.  This was a good tenant - a quiet, enlisted Navy guy (and oboist for Navy Band Northeast).  He acknowledged that he owed us rent through July ... so we have some time before we start feeling the vacancy.  It turns out to be a real advantage to have unfettered access to the place so we can get in there, get to know it and what it needs, show it on short notice, and clean/repair to our standards.

Early June - 87C (rear cabin tenant) disappears for 2 days.  Is this it??  Or is his car just missing?  This length of absence is unprecedented.
Recap:  87C is the tenant whose 'verbal rental agreement has been terminated' as of July 3rd.  He's been there for 18 years and his cabin is not safe nor hygienic for human habitation.  He's got to go so we can bring it up to standards, and rent closer to market rate to a non-smoker.

Early June - After searching for and pondering a product robust enough for teenage boys, yet classic-looking enough for a house built in 1865, I settled on a dozen doorknobs on Wayfair and ordered them.  Andrew starts 'picking through' the project (replacing most interior knobs) with a gusto and the kids are unexpectedly stoked about the upgrade (shouts of "Hurray!!").  Turns out privacy is a real commodity in this house.

Entirety of June - Now I know how to create and list an apartment on Zillow (front cabin), conduct tours and write a lease.  We are still waiting for the right tenant and are considering taking steps to make it an AirBnB (furnish + wire smoke alarms for fire marshal inspection - we know this routine from the Wampanoag permit process).  
https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/81-Freeborn-St-Portsmouth-RI-02871/2112430098_zpid/ 

June - It's time to call in the [licensed] big guns.
I'm intimidated by this part of the cabin renovation.  We've decided not to hire to a contractor and, instead, string together the renovation ourselves with the required help of some professionals.  If it requires a permit, we're hiring a guy (or gal).

But I don't know any guys or gals who can wire, plumb or drywall.  I've got to get on the socials and start cold-calling people.

Luckily, I know a bad-A at our church who oversaw the complete renovation of an athletic club into a sanctuary, so we started there with a brain-picking session and left with some great advice and a little more confidence.  "You guys can do it!"  Thanks Kristine P. :)

Her advice:
You can have two of these three:  Time, Budget, Scope.  Figure out where you're willing to budge.

I started with a plumber.  He was recommend by a friend at the local pilot breakfast I attend about once a month (aka "gentlemen who can afford to own airplanes"). 
Dear Mr. Plumber: I have two cabins, both of which I'm hoping to eventually equip with a washer and dryer.  What are we looking at here?
Answer:  A complete bathroom remodel on the front cabin; a complete plumbing refit on the rear cabin (due to its antiquated system).  By the way, he said on this way out, please let me send someone out to fix that leaky sink.  Ok.

Called a couple of electricians and got a call back from a guy who parks his work van down the street from me.  Score:  We are indeed neighbors and this guy is great with us.  He said he was reminded of our projects whenever he drove home down his street, to which I replied, "Good!  I've got you right where I want you. ;)"
The ask:  I have two cabins; I want to be able to run a washer/dryer, mini-split and electrical stove in each (divorce from propane).  How do we do this?
We got some good advice on bringing the front cabin up to code, which is installing GFCIs everywhere -- something Andrew can do.  However, this unit is a long way from installing 240V outlets.  It doesn't even have a panel -- it's on a fuse box!

The rear cabin is more interesting.  It's only getting 50 amps, and most homes are rated for 100A.  The tenant couldn't run an A/C unit if he wanted to.  Upgrading the service requires digging a trench through our backyard from the main house to the cabin (all electrical comes in through the main house), and then a complete rewire.  Ok.

Trenching:

Electrician Dan:  You guys need to call DigSafe to have your utilities marked before my landscaper trenches through your backyard.

DigSafe:  Cox doesn't care about their cable lines ("Cleared to dig!" even though I can clearly see cable coming out of the cabin).  Water doesn't care about anything past the tap in to the city water main at the street, and electric never responded, which is fine, because we're not going to keep using the original lines anyway.
But I'm really concerned about water coming in and sewage going out of that cabin.

I pursue the water question and wind up scheduling an appointment with the Portsmouth Water & Fire Operations manager to come over and "trace the lines" in my backyard.  Nathan the Water Guy knows his stuff and could not be more kind!  He is familiar with this house and its water supply and history.  He keeps apologizing for news he's delivering.  I keep telling him to stop apologizing and keep educating me.  He patiently answers my questions for the better part of an hour and here is what I learned:
The rear cabin is supplied water from the main house through something called "well tubing", since the property used to run on a well.  Because of this, the lines can't be traced since they're not metal.  *When* the old well tubing springs a leak, it has to be replaced by copper pipes.  And also, every separate residence in Portsmouth is required to have its own water supply and meter from the town (supply runs under most streets).  Both of my cabins are routed through the main house.

The front cabin used to be on well tubing and did spring a leak in 2016.  The owners 'petitioned the board' to have the new copper piping routed from the main house, so if we wanted to do that again, precedence exists (and Nathan happens to be on the board).  

This would become an issue *when* the well tubing leaks.  So, we're clear to proceed with our renovations but we should probably be saving up for our new tap in to the city water main at some point in the next few years.  And don't worry about trenching -- that well tubing is way deeper than an electrical trench needs to dig.

Ok.

Drywall:  While I'm getting schooled by Nathan the Water Guy, my quote finally comes in for drywall and ceilings.  I'm just gonna leave this right here:  It's almost $20,000.

Mystery solved:  87C didn't disappear.  His car was being used by a family member.  When drywall came by for the quote, he spent an oddly in-depth amount of time in the 450 sq ft square, and I spent that time with 87C, standing in the breezy sunshine, listening.  Listening about car trouble, listening about his dissatisfaction with how his termination [of tenancy] was delivered, listening to him talk about how much he loves Portsmouth. 
Me too, buddy.  But this is not a healthy place for you to live.  He did hand me his propane bill and asked how he could recoup the money spent on gas remaining in the tanks, so I took this as a good sign that he was taking steps toward moving out.

It occurred to me that when I pray almost daily for God to use me for his good, perhaps that good is the service of listening to people who need to talk.  When this feels like a one-way delivery, patient listening is not something that comes naturally or even joyfully to me.  But I wonder if it's exactly what God is using me for in those moments.

Since I'm human and I couldn't wait another 3-4 weeks, and 87C hadn't disappeared, I went ahead and told him that "tenant parking has been located to the rear lot" so we could start reclaiming our driveway.  

Money:

I could blink and spend $120,000 on a cabin that won't recoup that for 10 years. 

This is good information to have, and forced me to go to the spreadsheets.  Myers-Briggs would applaud me taking their decision-making advice:  1) Gather all the details, 2) take a step back, 3) weigh the facts, then 4) evaluate how this affects people.

Taking a step back for me means stopping.  Doing something else.  Letting the mind wander.  Sleeping on it.  I do have the need to process verbally so 'taking a step back' doesn't really happen until I purge everything on Andrew and leave him dizzied.  

Weighing the facts:  We don't have them all yet!  We really don't know what we're getting in to here.  Is this a 'go big or go home' scenario where we include a cabin addition and splurge for some tree work?  Or is this a 'bare bones' renovation to make the place AirBnB-able until we can phase in larger expenses?  Or is there something in between that's a wise use of money and can be built upon later?

The lesson remains the same as it has since January:  We're going to have to take this one step at a time.

A huge step is the vacancy and we need to make sure we pause and are grateful when it happens.

The next step is clearing out the unit and seeing what we're working with.  We've planned our dumpster rental and our time off... I went ahead and scheduled a restoration cleaning service to come in and see if they can save the walls and ceiling from decades of mold and nicotine.  

How does this affect people:  We didn't skip this step.  It's not ok for someone to be living in the condition of the rear cabin.  Someone had to make this call.

More money:

Would you believe it, right in the middle of all of this Andrew received a disability rating from the VA, backdated to before closing.  This means we'll be fully refunded our VA funding fee - equal to a significant chunk of renovation costs.

Late June:

During a busy Saturday on the property, 87C had three vehicles worth of people show up and start removing trash bags from the rear cabin.  Signs point to vacancy on July 3rd.  It's reassuring to see that he has people who are showing up for him.

Rest:  We are so grateful for Becki's (Andrew's sister) visit this month and forcing us to have some fun and enjoy a little stay-cation!  Last night Andrew had some friends over for ping-pong, and Drew had a rotating door of 14-year-old buddies playing badminton and munching ice cream cones.  It's not lost on me that work is slow and I have time for property projects and to play a support role for my all-star team at home.  

One step at a time.  Plan. Think. Collaborate. Breathe. Pray. Do.

Property Project Part 2: Kittens!

June 5, 2025 

If you're still reading, I'm flattered, and happy to keep you entertained.  Welcome to Part II:  Kittens!!

Also, if you're local, I hope I invited you to our open house on Jun 14th!  Come check out all the fuss and our little ecosystem/unending project.

On May 23rd I was at my dad's house in North Carolina and received a text from our upstairs tenant: They noticed kittens underneath the rear cabin on the property!  I congratulated Andrew from afar that he had been awarded a litter for his birthday and reminded him to please wear a glove while extracting them.  

This was not as simple as we'd thought, since the cats had made a home far underneath the structure and he couldn't just reach in and snatch them out.  Plus, they're smart enough to not come too close to people wearing gloves and offering them things.

A crate was acquired from the local shelter ... we were told Animal Control was on a long weekend ... I made my way home ... we went about a work week ... and 8-9 days went by before I realized that our tenants and the neighbors were feeding and watering the litter that was quite happily still living in an insulation-wrapped, rat-poo-infested hole.

Ever have that moment when you realize you're the one who's going to handle the thing?

Touché, Andrew was now out of town so it was also my turn.

On a Tuesday I left a message for Liz, the Animal Control for Portsmouth RI, who called me back and agreed to meet me at 2:00 on Wed to catch these cats.  Completely legitimized by this excuse to leave work early, I rushed home and met a sweet 20-something who'd stumbled across her life's work through old fashioned nepotism (not judging; she knows her stuff!).  

Liz had something in a squeeze-yogurt tubed she called "Kitty Crack", got right down on the ground outside the hole, put some Crack on a brick and waited for the cats to come out.  First out of the hole was a little calico whom Liz didn't hesitate to snatch vertically and toss in a crate, complete with surprised kitten sound effect.

Total gangster.

Unfortunately, the gig was quickly up.  The two orange kittens ran back in the hole following the abduction and were kept inside by a skeptical Mama who kept peeking out at us.

Liz, with a patience I've never even had for my own children, baited and waited and tried a few things for the better part of two hours.  What we ended up working with was a humane trap that closes shut behind a critter when they walk in to get the food.  I hung out nearby trying not to add or subtract from the situation but learning what I could, since this was a team sport from the get-go.

Liz got lucky one more time before her shift was up and nabbed orange kitty #1.  These two were off to the shelter post-haste. 

I was left instructions to check the trap before bedtime and then maybe close it, because leaving it open overnight I might trap a critter I wasn't looking for.  (There is enough legal skunk in Rhode Island; I'm not interested in adding actual skunk to our tenant roster.)  

I decided this was a rare 2-glass Chardonnay weeknight, thinking this adventure was on pause for the day and I was satisfied with its progress.

Right after the 2nd glass kicked in but right before I took a bite of food, our tenant texted from her window vantage point, "There's a kitten in the trap!"  I grabbed gloves, my 2 boys and my buzz and we went to check things out.

The trap is a long rectangular prism-type cage, and at this moment it contained a terrified little kitty and some ant-covered food at one end.  I figured out how to open it and put on an awkward show in front of my audience (tenant included) of trying to get the cat out.  (In my defense, no one else was trying to get the cat out!)  My arm just wasn't quite long enough to get to the other end, where kitty was hissing, so there was some weird rocking of the trap trying to get him to come closer to the end where I could reach him.  I finally nabbed that sucker and threw him in the crate the boys were holding open.  He did not move out of the corner behind the beach towel for at least 12 hours.

Carl the Kitten (later named by the shelter) spent a quiet night in the crate in a corner of our kitchen where he surely had no clue the conversations we were having about keeping him.  Lending truth to the wisdom of "sleeping on it", by morning he was hissing and mewing his dissatisfaction, and it was apparent that this potential long-term animal behavior project was not something we needed to take on this week (we know nothing about cats!).  

With Pucci (our dog) now alerted to the presence of an alien in our kitchen, things started to get a little tense inside so I moved Carl's crate out to the porch while I got ready for the day.  Liz was going to check back with me at 8:00 so I drug my heels a bit, hoping for another excuse to pursue the action on our property over the endless talking at my workplace (this is a theme of my life right now).

Not ten minutes went by when I cruised past the screen door to peek on Carl and jumped back when I noticed Mama!  She hadn't come out of her hole since the first kitten was scooped up but had heard her remaining baby across the yard (50-60 yards away), and was now pacing around the crate and looking at me:  "What. The. Hell. Lady?!?!"  I probably would have been doing the same thing.

Tactical detour: the habitat under the cabin was finally empty!

I snuck out the front door, around the back of the property, and sealed up the hole with cardboard, nails and bricks.  #feelingclever

Mama didn't leave the porch area nor let the carrier out of eyesight in our remaining hours together.  I took the carrier away from the house, in to the shade, and set up the cage the way I'd seen Liz do, using the kitten to lure the mom in.  About this time, Liz arrived and told me I'd done a good job.  :)  I offered her some coffee, we watched for a while from the kitchen window, then I set her up with a camping chair and good wishes and headed to work.

Around lunch time I checked in with Drew, who was home from school.  He said Liz had taken the kitten and left the trap, and now Mama was in the trap.  From the photos I could tell that Liz had cleverly used the towel Carl had snuggled in overnight to lure the mom in to the cage with his smell.  Her turn for #feelingclever .

By the time I got home, we had no more cats.  I was happy they were safe and getting medical attention, but kind of deflated over the side quest being complete.  Liz left me a nice voicemail and I dropped her off a thank-you note.  I cleaned the bowl and the water dispenser the neighbor and her grandkids had provided during their weekend afternoons playing outside, also with a note about the kittens' fate.

A couple of days later we stopped by the Potter League shelter after church, explained who we were, and asked if we could visit the litter.  At first we were told no, since they were still in Intake, so we wandered around the heartbreaking puppy hallways before leaving.  A sweet volunteer caught us on the way out and urged us to come with him, where he led us to Intake and we got to visit Carl, Mango and Princess Donut.  He had been working with them for three days and gave us a full update.  PD, the calico, was ready for humans and mewed at us until he took her out and we passed her around for snuggles.  Carl and Mango hissed from the back corner like ferocious tigers.  The plan was to leave the three together for a few weeks, hoping to socialize the orange beasts.  Poor Mama wasn't doing well.  Her cage was covered with a towel and a Caution sign.  We left our number and our interest in offering up our property for a spay & release option for her.  We haven't written off making Princess Donut a Kissell, but we heard there is a waiting list for kittens...  

Perhaps the most fulfilling side effect of Property Project is the expansion of our local community.  My soul loves knowing the people in all the circles that surround us, and I believe to my core that we are put on this earth to support each other.  From meeting the animal lovers in my neighborhood and those who work for our town, to coworkers jumping in to help us move, to lending out stuff we discovered when we transferred one garage to another -- this is the platinum lining of staying in one community and continuing to dig in.  (Ironically, if we'd stayed in one house we would have missed a lot of this in our quiet, perfect neighborhood.)  I'm here for all of it.

One Step at a Time

 

I'm training for the Newport 10-Miler and it isn't pretty.

Not to sound ungrateful for the 58-degree crisp, sunny morning that welcomed my 8.25-mile run this morning, but really- it's not pretty.

If you meet me on the road you'll first notice that the two sports bras I'm wearing are trying their best.  10 lbs lighter than my base weight (last seen in 2020), or 12 lbs heavier (now)... you still might want to look away for both of our dignities.

Don't worry, I'll wave and smile.  Last week I even hi-fived a woman my age whom I saw twice on one run.  Today I told a older gentlemen "good job!" when he reached his car and got to stop.  I made a 78-year-old friend named Joan a few weeks ago who wanted to chat about my phone backpack while running alongside me(!!).

Hopefully no one noticed that I'd blown my nose in my shirt twice.  On these long runs at least I've washed my face first, swished with mouthwash, and applied a little mascara - partially for me, partially for the EMTs.

When I set out this morning I kept thinking, "It's 8 miles... 8 miles!"  It's daunting.  I haven't run this far since my sister joined me for a half marathon in 2008.
(What a memory!  She was so mean to me the last mile, trash-talking me up a San Diego hill -- but we made it in 2:00:00, my goal.  That pace is long gone for me but she is still as fiercely supportive.)

A quarter mile in, twisting with anxiety over what lay ahead for the next hour and a half, it hit me:  

Don't think about it.

Just put one foot in front of the other.

It's been a heck of a season.  We've taken on some serious projects, financial risk, loads of responsibility and there is a lot out of our control.  I've stepped back and taken a breath many times on this journey and thought,

 

"One day at a time.  

Today, just move your clothes.  Worry about the kitchen next week."

"Today, just pick up the leaves.  Worry about weeding the garden beds a different day."

"Today, let your tenant adjust to the news and make plans.  You're not ready to renovate anyway."

"Today, rest.  You're going to burn yourself out and burn out your team."

Isn't that the rub, though?  Long-range vision drives our efforts purposefully through life, but the appreciation of small wins can't be understated.

Yet another fine line we're to walk as whole humans.

8.25 miles is a long way.  My brain can't handle that.  

But I can handle passing the enchanted little creek in the first 100 yards, 

wondering if the folks up the road are ever going to get the Pod out of their driveway,

the glassiness of the Sakonnet River in the morning sun,

silently waving at my son's friend's house as I jog by at mile 1...

Enjoying exactly four stories on "Armchair Anonymous" and affirming my decision to pay for ad-free listening,

Rolling my eyes at the oblivious gathering of baby strollers that completely kicked me off the sidewalk,

Passing Schultzy's and remembering the "milk flight" and stuffed quahogs we shared with our visiting friends,

Running over the little bridge with the stunning view of the Mount Hope bridge,

Realizing I'm at 3 miles and due for a stretch!,

Loving Rhode Island when the sailboats are on the water,

Reading street signs named after the Pokanoket whose land this was before it was colonized,

Seeing Andrew pull up in the Audi with my water and a Kleenex and so much encouragement...

I can handle knowing that I'm over halfway through today's goal,

Knowing that this body of mine does what I ask it to do after almost 44 years of demand,

Feeling that IT band start to flare up and being so grateful that I went to physical therapy,

Rounding 6 miles and another appearance from my cheerleader,

Diving back in to my Amy Poehler audiobook and learning that she was 43 when she wrote it,

The satisfying way my feet hit the ground in these shoes, 

Knowing that this hill is the last one,

And stopping.  Oh, the sweet relief of stopping! - at 8.25 miles.

One. Step. At. A. Time.

And trying not to miss anything along the way.

Set: Condition Zebra (on Compartmentalizing)

 

I was 26 years in to my Navy career when I learned that the term "compartmentalize" - often used in aviation, and I'm told used in modern psychology - originated on Navy ships.  Maybe I should have paid more attention when the ships I embarked went to General Quarters ("GQ") and I camped out in my assigned berthing* while the folks keeping us afloat ran their Damage Control drills.
(*Note: Assigned berthing is where all aviators are told to hide while this pandemonium ensues.  We will only be in the way.)

During GQ the 1MC (ship-wide intercom) is alive and loud.  Between blaring alarms there are repeated instructions to "Set: Condition Zebra".  I now know that means to close all watertight hatches in order to prevent the spread of fire throughout the ship.    
In other words, compartmentalize potential damage.

We learn early in aviation to compartmentalize things that may be bothering us on the ground in order to safely go flying and stay 100% focused.  During our pre-flight brief we discuss major human factors and, if we decide we can't leave them on the ground, sometimes we don't even get airborne that day. 
I've returned one time from a flight during which I failed to compartmentalize: I had a baby at home, and I'd just learned that an old high school friend of mine had lost her baby a few weeks post-partem.  I couldn't shake it, I couldn't concentrate, and my student was flying like a doofus.  We cut it short and went home and I was completely candid about the decision.

I've carried this concept in to office work and command leadership, and also in the other direction.  Focus at work, then leave work at work and focus at home.  (I'm not a fan of telework due to its ability to make this division impossible.)  I'm choosy about work calls I answer off duty.  I tend to choose friends who don't rely on talking about similar careers.

Now I find myself teaching Leadership & Ethics to new department heads (middle management).  There's a session I teach on self-care which is one of my favorites.  I realized after I got into it that compartmentalization is for temporary use. 
At times, completely necessary. 
But for the duration, unsustainable.

We are whole people.  Our home life affects our work life and vice versa.  If we don't deliberately learn how to coexist in both worlds, we will forever come up short in one or more arena, and lie to ourselves using terms like "work-life balance".

If the ship Set: Condition Zebra and stayed in that condition all the time, no one could pass from one part of the ship to the other.  Communication would freeze.  Only the cooks would get fed.  I don't know what would happen with human waste.

So what does harmonious coexistence of our worlds look like?  I'm not an expert -- but I feel the fight for my version of "success" is going ok:
I'm excited about the humans my kids are turning out to be.
I love and seek my spouse.
I'm watching my family thrive.
I have no physical ailments.
I am needed.
I love where I live and worship, and I love the people I do life with.
My job is consistently challenging and rewarding, and it provides enough.

Maybe "my version of success" is the first step to the compartmentalization act:

(1) Define your own success.
Why hand something as precious as your own self-worth over to another human or organization?

(2) Prioritize.
It's hard for me to accept that I'm a human with limits, but when I am forced to face this truth, priorities make my choices clear.

(3) Compartmentalize as needed.
My recent favorite iPhone feature is the "Do not disturb" function.  I use it when I'm teaching or coaching, and when I'm working out (my phone sleeps in a different room or else I'd use it then too).  

Being in front of a classroom or in a coaching session takes 110% of me, so making sure I don't side-eye a text is, for me, critical to quality of instruction and mentorship.

"Do not disturb" while working out is a recent move that gives my brain 30-60 minutes of free-play while I do something healthy for my body.  Sometimes my brain hates it when its only task is to count reps or sing along to Outkast.  Because it's uncomfortable, I suspect it is good.

These short spurts are focused and necessary, but they can't go on for more than a couple of hours at a time.  I'm a whole person.  I have people who need me on an unscheduled basis - and that's part of what makes me whole.

(4) Reassess.
This entry has made me reassess... and I admit that 'closeness with my parents and sisters' is a high priority of mine, yet it's not on my list of personal successes.  Time to take another look at that.

What does compartmentalization look like for you?
Is it damage control?
Is it stepping in, stepping out, like the salsa?

... does it exist?

Property Project Part 1: What's Going on in There?

 

Buckle up for Kissells: Real Estate Edition.  We are learning a lot through requirements, twists and turns-- and what good is an uncomfortable, self-inflicted saga if the lessons learned aren't shared?

"It's not crazy, it's just a big deal."

**Read from the bottom up!**

I'll update up top as the story unfolds.

------------------------------------------

Memorial Day seems like a good transition to Part 2:  Kittens!

Memorial Day weekend:  Roofers fix the jalopy of chimney flashing that was allowing water in to the 3rd floor apartment.  Andrew gets up in to the unit to love on some basic needs for our tenants:  a dry bathroom, elimination of [surface] mold spores, a light fixture without water in it, and screens that don't require duck tape.  They seem happy the place is getting attention and we're relieved to find that he does not need to poke a hole in the side of the house to vent the bathroom:  the roofers' drone photos revealed the location of the existing vent exit!  Voila, a new fan and some chemicals later, this project is livable until we can confirm the leaking has stopped and it's time to make the space pretty (paint and plaster repair).

May is a blur of Wampanoag AirBnB turnovers and hi-fiving the responsibility back and forth as we each headed out and back on short trips, work and personal.  It's only doable with our girl Val, the best housecleaner in the state of RI and so patient with my hospitality inexperience and our shared language barrier (English-Portuguese).

Early May:  Life goes on.  We squeak in some things we've been looking forward to (Chicago! musical in Providence) and start some new things - Levi joined an Ultimate Frisbee pickup and Andrew tried a similar men's soccer pickup.  Spring has sprung in New England and no one needs to be inside!

25-Apr:  Andrew gets a call from the VA rep handling his disability claim (filed 17 years after departing active duty).  This man has some benefits coming his way -- most likely including a refund on the Estate loan's VA funding fee!  (Tens of thousands!)

What an unexpected side quest of this transaction.

19-Apr:  Our second short-term tenant moved in to Wampanoag.  This interaction felt not entirely real until the check cleared in our bank account!

We were contacted through VRBO by someone looking for a month-long rental paid for by their insurance (they are temporarily displaced from their Portsmouth home by some kind of catastrophe in the house they own).

After a mild e-mail slap on the wrist by VRBO for attempting to exchange phone numbers via their app, we link up, get the details, vet the person via a mutual friend, and accept a call from his insurance.  They asked us what we charge per night (we aimed high), asked for a short-term lease signed by both parties (which I created on ChatGPT), and sent us a big, fat check in the mail that will pay a lot of property bills due 1-May.

!!!

15-Apr:  My attempted poaching of neighbors' landscapers finally pays off, and I convince a crew of young men working across the street to remove a large debris pile of branches, dead shrubs and leaves from the eyesore patch between our yard and the one next door.  In 20 minutes they accomplish what would have taken us hours and another trip to the dump.  #takemymoney 

This pile has the appearance of a stand-off between the previous owners and the neighbors -- add another tally to the column of goodwill between us.  We've been silently hauling each other's trash cans to/from the curb for a few weeks now.

14-Apr:  We forced a conversation with 87C about his rent.  "Do not pay us your full month's rent on the 15th, because you'll be gone by May 1st."  This was prompted by learning that, in verbal agreements, acceptance of rent implies that tenancy continues for the next paid period (30 days). 

--> 2nd shout-out to my sister Sierra who nudged me to get an attorney.  Legal advice is coming in handy every step of the journey with 87C!

87C came over and regaled Andrew with his ailments and requested to stay until July 3rd.  He's been stuck on this date for some time, and we have the option to believe this plan is real (his brother is driving up to move him out - he says).  

After a very brief, very candid heart-to-heart between Andrew and I, we agree to take this leap of faith [that we won't be having this conversation again in July] and extend 87C's stay.  Legal documents will be signed and we'll have the option to have him removed by law enforcement if he doesn't move out as agreed.  No one in this situation wants to call the cops, and no one wants a nice old man sleeping in his car.  

We've been here before.  Torn between blazing through a transaction within our rights, vs doing the right thing.  The last time it was the sale of our Pensacola home, which needed a new roof.  We didn't have to move forward, and the decision to replace it extended escrow to 4+ months, but it was blessed 100-fold (a series of events led insurance to pick up the tab, and our buyers - first time homeowners - to get a property with zero issues).

We continue to move forward with a lot of faith, and with more knowledge than we had before.

11-Apr:  Wampanoag is ready to go.  There's a faint smell of cinnamon throughout the house that we can't pin down.  It never smelled that nice when we lived in it!

7-Apr:  We have been at this for a month (we closed a month ago today).  Our minds and bodies are screaming for rest.
Of note, the dog is no longer pooping in sight of the kitchen door.  He disappears for lengths of time, making his rounds.

6-Apr:  Receive an AirBnB reservation for the Wampanoag house to check in on the 12th!  (Up until now we had until 14-May to prep for our first guest.)  Priorities become crystal clear for the week.

Time is flying.  The daffodils are out, thanking us for our leaf cleanup.

3-Apr:  All rent monies accounted for.  One Venmo transfer, one personal check, and a wad of cash in $50s and $20s.

1-Apr:  2 of 3 tenants paid rent on time without prompting!

30-Mar:  This is what $1,000 worth of leaf cleanup looks like (done by 4 Kissells in 3 hrs for a total of $50 in lawn bags and dump fees).

29-Mar:  A promising day for the Wampanoag house!  We receive an Air BnB booking for the entire month of June, and after being listed for less than 24 hours on Zillow we have some promising long-term tenants for July.  Shout-out to our realtor who is still hanging around - now as our listing agent.

28-Mar:  What do you mean, someone needs to MEAL PLAN?!

27-Mar:  Our first Wampanoag booking on VRBO!  This should pay for the permit and fire alarms.

27-Mar:  The dog is finally spending time outside at The Estate without crying at the door.  He's on an electronic radial fence (the base is a hub in our kitchen).  His radius  of comfort is slowly expanding and we're finding poops farther and farther from the door.
Add to chore list:  Poop-scoop with frequency the paths our tenants travel.

26-Mar:  Ants in the downstairs bathroom sink (Estate).  Why?  Where are they coming from?  Where are they going?

25-Mar:  A victory!  Received our AirBnB permit from Town of Portsmouth for the Wampanoag house.  

24-Mar:  Today's growing pain in an old house is the sea of floors -- meaning, they aren't level.  They gently roll like an ocean.  The home inspector wasn't surprised or concerned. 
Put "furniture shims" on shopping list.

23-Mar:  Slept in the 'new' house.  Still fussing around with temporary mattresses and bedroom heat, but we and our support gear are all here.

Why are we so much more exhausted than a normal move leaves us? 
Andrew named it:  Usually packers are doing the labor and we're doing the mental work of organizing and settling.  When we move ourselves, we are doing both.  And we haven't moved ourselves since 2016 (shout-out Dova Family + Sierra & Seth!).

Note:  We're on partial furniture at the Estate due to the AirBnB project at Wampanoag.  We'll be 'glamping' for the better part of 90 days.

Shout-out to Portsmouth Schools for making the bus transition as easy as it could have been.  Drew gets picked up at the front door!

22-23 Mar:  Days 5 and 6 of moving.  First tears are shed as I take family photos down from the staircase which we only hung last November.

What I'm praying:  Lord, allow me to recognize my sadness but don't let it turn in to regret.  

Lesson learned:  Real estate investing, at its best, should be a no-emotions-attached financial transaction.  But moving out of our home and starting over is deeply personal, and deeply emotional (at least for me). 
I still defend that we needed to start here - and there's a good chance these two properties will enough portfolio for us to manage - but leaving a place is hard and always will be for me.

We love on our homes so hard.

Additionally, I find myself extremely uncomfortable lately.  I've ripped apart the comfort zone I created for my family and there are financial and legal unknowns. 
It occurs to me: This discomfort is what risk feels like.  Avoiding this feeling is what's been holding us back from a project like this all along.

21-Mar:  Lesson learned:  Get a quote from a tradesman before he(or she) sees the size of your Estate.  Surely leaf clean-up doesn't cost $1,000 and moving a washing machine doesn't cost $5,000.

-- I think you think we're people we are not!

21-Mar:  Fire marshal returns to Wampanaog:  PASS!!!

17-18 Mar:  Andrew spends afternoons in the Wampanoag attic crawl space wiring smoke alarms together for each bedroom.  

15-Mar:  87C stops by with his rent check and asks if he can have until 1-June to vacate.  He makes sure we're aware of his age and his ailments, and he attempts some detective work on behalf of our other tenants who have sent him to find out if everyone is getting the boot.

We are compassionate and firm and friendly, don't answer questions about the other tenants (the can stay), and haven't had interaction with 87C since (written 28-Mar).

15-16 Mar:  Days 3 and 4 of moving:  closets.  

For the first time in years all of our clothes (his and hers) fit in one walk-in.  I'm embarrassed by the number of my shoes I can count in one place.

(I'm tempted to purge right then and there, but I have "purge clothes" on my calendar for 1-June as an incentive to lose weight this spring.  So far I haven't lost any and this move isn't helping with cortisol effects and meal-planning.  There's a good chance I just kicked this purge down the road.)

The physical toll of moving starts to rear it's head and I remind myself that sometimes it's ok to sit down and have a beer in the walk-in closet.  (Yes, I know what the previous paragraph says.)

Word is out among our local friends and church family that we've taken on another transition.  I feel a little sheepish about it because I don't want to give the impression that I'm not grateful for our home.  I'm also reticent to accept more help moving because this is entirely self-inflicted.  

I decide to relax in to our community's genuine excitement for us and continue with a grateful heart. 

 

13-Mar:  Visit from the building inspector and fire marshal to see about turning Wampanoag in to an AirBnB.  The building inspector reminds us that we can only advertise 3 bedrooms (vice the 4 that we have) due to the size of the septic.  I don't know why this is so important to the Town of Portsmouth, but it came up a lot when we bought Wampanoag in 2023.  Ok, guys.  Va bene.

The marshal teaches us requirements for fire extinguishers and interconnected smoke alarms.

My takeaway:  I guess we're not making this an AirBnB.
Andrew's takeaway:  "I can totally do that myself." 
We decide to invest $200 and our faith in him and go for it.

The ultimate goal is to "make more than zero" off Wampanoag while we wait for inbound military families to arrive this summer.

Lesson learned:  There are still surprises over my spouse's hidden talents 16 years in to marriage!

10-14 Mar:  Utilities, utilities, utilities!

10-Mar:  We apply for a short-term-rental permit with the Town of Portsmouth for the Wampanoag house.  They require visits from the town Building Inspector and Fire Marshal.  

10-Mar:  We receive an email from our attorney informing us that they mailed 87C his termination of tenancy and he has to be out by 1-May.  While we're relieved that this Band-aid has been ripped quickly, we never meant for 87C to find out this way.  

Our real estate agent makes good on a pre-closing promise and sits down with 87C and his adult son, making sure they understand the letter and verbally offering them our 'cash-for-keys' incentive ("Leave sooner and we will give you some money.").

8-9 Mar:  Day 1 and 2 of moving.  Andrew's crew from work shows up and moves our entire garage and basement to the Estate in under 3 hours!  They scarf down pizza and are gone by 3 p.m.

We're deeply thankful for this solid start to the next three weekends of moving our life over piecemeal.

Lesson learned(?):  I really don't know what is worse.  When all our stuff shows up in boxes and we are forced to deal with it ASAP (I typically take a week off work for this), or this slow Band-aid pull of a move over weeks with life happening in between.  Lugging and organizing an hour here and there.  Trying to coexist with the chaos.

7-Mar:  Closed! 
We're entertained for exactly one billable hour by one of Newport's oldest real estate attorneys.  He is well versed in Portsmouth's history and knows one of the previous owners of the The Estate.  His even-paced storytelling between signing and shuffling documents is methodical and friendly.  Once I realize I need to settle in to this transaction, I enjoy it.  

The sellers remain a mystery as they've already signed at their attorney's office.  I often wonder if the real estate profession intentionally keeps buyers and sellers apart.  Surely we could reach agreements faster if we put the actual decision-makers in a room together.  

After closing we reach out to both realtors to find out how to get in to the house.  We pop over for a selfie with the kids and to make sure we can get in before we start moving the following morning.

4-Mar (3 days until closing):  After repeated questions about rent monies and transfer of deposits, I threaten not to sign at closing without these - and magically I'm presented with a prepared document containing all of this information.

The sellers inform us that they'll be leaving the curtains.

Current overall vibe among our party:  Alternately excited and terrified.

Late Escrow (end of Feb):
- We learn of some Rhode Island landlord requirements that have not been met by the sellers.  Wondering if this is a deal-breaker, we start to ask uncomfortable questions to our realtor and the mortgage company.  Our realtor lends me an ear, our lender rep blows me off, and we don't hear from anyone for two weeks.

I hate this part of escrow.  Without fail, at this stage no one has our best interest in mind:  Every single party in this transaction only benefits only if we close the deal.  As my coworker commiserated, "We always feel slimy by the time we get to closing."  
I'm very thankful at this point that we at least have retained legal counsel who are in our corner.

What I've been praying:  Lord, either bless this or get in our way!

Mid-Escrow (Feb):
- Our family gets sick for an entire month.  We cancel a vacation to Florida.  Depleted health makes nonstop requests from the mortgage company for additional documentation extremely annoying, and makes decision-making agonizing and foggy.  

- The level of detail and badgering from the bank are unlike any escrow we've experienced.  Either (a) we chose the wrong bank; or (b) we came pretty close to the maximum someone is willing to lend us!
Silver lining, Andrew's work hours became very important to the lender during this time, and our canceled vacation allowed him to provide the complete pay stub they were asking for.

(This makes me wonder what "preapproved" even means!)

- Multiple requests to the sellers to deliver Termination of Tenancy to 87C go ignored.  Instead, they start a back-and-forth over whether they will take their "$10,000 worth of curtains" with them at closing.  We've never mentioned the curtains but now we wonder if we should have asked for them(?).

- The VA appraiser determines that the stairs to the barn loft are unsafe and a handrail needs to be installed.  All parties concur that Andrew is the handyman for the job, so he spends a day in our prospective barn hammering away while I sit with the flu on the couch.  The property appraises for agreed purchase price.
Note:  87C also present for the appraiser's visit.

- While we were waiting out the escrow clock we decided to do some Wampanoag projects in order to make the property tenant-proof.  Connecting a hose to the basement dehumidifier (so we aren't asking a renter to empty a bucket every two days throughout the summer).  Tearing up the dirty carpet (age unknown) on the screened-in deck and finishing the wood. 
Projects we definitely would not want to be doing once we moved in to the Estate and had projects to do there.

The Rear Cabin, "87C"
This topic might become deserving of its own blog.

The rear cabin is 400 square feet of dust, nicotine and mold.  The outside is in great shape - previous owners have taken care of siding and roofing - but the inside hasn't had maintenance performed in the 17 years the tenant has occupied it.  In our opinion, this is a health hazard and a liability.  

This 78-year-old man has been on a verbal month-to-month lease this entire time and is renting at about half market rate.  As our realtor remarked, "He's had a good run!"

Knowing full well the condition, we forged through escrow with plans to end the tenant's agreement, gut and renovate the cabin, then rent it at market rate until we can convince my mom to move to New England.

On my sister's advice (she's a real estate attorney in South Carolina and gave me this nugget pro bono):  "I'm assuming you're retaining a lawyer who is well versed on tenant-landlord law in Rhode Island.  It'll be the best money you spend in this transaction."  We took care of this detail the next day.

Follow-on details regarding 87C are in the timeline above.  Stay tuned...

What I've been praying:  Lord, provide a solution for 87C that none of us have imagined.  Make a blessing for him out of this necessary change.

Early Escrow (first week of Feb):
- Home inspection went well.  Andrew and our realtor followed along intently.  Andrew learned a lot about the home's systems and our realtor got minor frostbite on his feet (snow on the ground).  We asked the sellers to fix the [advertised-as-working] dishwasher and continued to move forward. 

- Rear cabin "87C" tenant present for the inspection that he told us was at an inconvenient time.  (87C was also present when we toured the rentals during our second showing.)  Sellers have to step in to ensure he allows the inspector inside.
Spidey sense activated: The tenant refuses to step outside for an hour??

Lesson learned:  "Don't inherit tenants."  We should have had this non-transfer of tenants written into our original offer and signed contract.  Now this is our problem.

Another discovery during early escrow was just how much a VA funding fee costs on a loan this size.  A couple of pointed questions encouraged Andrew to begin his disability claim 17 years after leaving the service.  If this project stopped in its tracks, this alone would be a useful endeavor.

Before we signed anything:
- Number crunching:  What will it cost to live in the new place?  And can we rent our current home for the monthly cost of our mortgage?  
- Considerations:  Influx of Navy families moving to Newport for 1-3 years, mostly arriving in the summertime.  If we rent out our current home (Wampanoag), it may sit empty for a few months (Mar-Jun).  Should we leave it furnished and attempt to AirBnB it during the gap?

------------------------------------------
Wait, so you guys are moving again?

Things that are true as of January 2025, and Why:

- We are home in Rhode Island at least until our kids get through school (2029).  It helps that we love it here.

- Yes, we adore the house we bought here in 2023 and yes, we've enjoyed the pickleball court we installed right next to it.

- We have bought four homes along our journey through adulthood and only currently own the one we are living in (Wampanoag).  The more we learn about real estate, the more we realize we're late to a profitable long-term game... and that our unused  VA entitlement (0% down) is an untapped opportunity.

- I was supposed to retire from the Navy on 1-Sep-2025 and cancelled my retirement for a few reasons.  The best way to summarize the decision is "it's not time yet."  One part of this calculation was the desire to invest in some more property -- and right now, we're still lendable while I'm on the Navy's payroll.

- I'm taking a 6-month real estate investor course through my service academy network, and it's providing needed resources, encouragement and support to take the plunge on an investment.

- On a Sunday afternoon in January I stumbled on an open house for a multi-unit historical property up the road.  Andrew, Levi and I paid a visit.  The main house is old (1865) and quirky but everything has been upgraded in recent years (kitchen, bathrooms, electric, heating systems, etc).  The grounds are beautiful and the barn was used by previous owners to host dinner parties.  The third floor and two external cabins make up three additional occupied residences -- off-setting the cost of my family living here to be near equal to what it costs us to live down the road in a single-family home.  The location is accessible by sidewalk to the high school, grocery, and Drew's best friends.  Levi (16) ran up and down the stairs, poking through hallways and closets like a child, exclaiming, "I want to move here!"  Andrew and I exchanged glances that indicated we were on to the same far-reaching idea.
For fun, in this blog I'll refer to the prospective property as 'The Estate'.

I sent a text to a local Navy/realtor friend asking if he'd represent us.  As it turns out, he's intimately familiar with the property, knew the previous owners and placed one of the tenants.

We decided to make an offer and see how far it went.  Using a VA loan we could enter with only closing costs and the price of moving ourselves.

Offer accepted and mortgage pre-approved by the end of January... we were off in to the sticky swamp of escrow!