“Not in Assisted Living (Yet): Dispatches from the Edge of Independence!

Welcome to my World---Woman, widow, senior citizen seeking to live out my days with a sense of whimsy as I search for inner peace and friendships. Jeez, that sounds like a profile on a dating app and I have zero interest in them, having lost my soul mate of 42 years. Life was good until it wasn't when my husband had a massive stroke and I spent the next 12 1/2 years as his caregiver. This blog has documented the pain and heartache of loss, my dark humor, my sweetest memories and, yes, even my pity parties and finally, moving past it all. And now I’m ready for a new start, in a new location---a continuum care campus in West Michigan, U.S.A. Some people say I have a quirky sense of humor that shows up from time to time in this blog. Others say I make some keen observations about life and growing older. Stick around, read a while. I'm sure we'll have things in common. Your comments are welcome and encouraged. Jean
Showing posts with label manufactured homes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label manufactured homes. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 15, 2018

Mission: Relocation Possible




Saturday I hopped out of bed like I was attached to a Pogo stick, took a shower, walked the dog and took off to the south end of town. Forty-two minutes later I was sitting in the office of the manager of a manufactured homes park with 400 units. You may know of the Sun Communities. According to Wikipedia they are a publicly traded real estate trust with 350 Sun Parks across the United States and Canada with a grand total of 121,892 homes and all of them are built by Clayton or Champion. 

I started out by saying, “I’ve always lived in single family homes so I have a list of questions about living in a place like this.” I already knew the dog rule was breed specific, not weight specific but I asked again just to be sure a 30 pound dog would not be a problem. It’s not. Park Rules? “Good neighbor rules” is all she’d say but I knew from reading reviews online that they do weekly inspections. She couldn’t/wouldn’t show me an actual list of rules, but according to a reviewer “they are too picky” but, who knows, maybe he wanted to put a car up on blocks in the front yard. She did say you have to pass a background check before they’ll accept an offer on any of the units in the park which explains why when I checked the crime watch website for the area no sex offenders or break-ins popped up at Sun. HOA fees don’t cover a damn thing but road maintenance (and may property taxes. I forgot to ask about that) and they cost in between $580 to $299. Of course the units with garages would put me in the upper range. And I’d have to have a garage for Levi. Every time I come home from anywhere he insists on sniffing my car’s undercarriage. If I didn’t have a garage I’d have to tell the neighbors he was once a military dog and he’s checking for bombs and tracking devices. I’d be embarrassed to admit I indulge his habit of checking for Road Kill eau de Cologne.  

When I tried to pin her down on how much these homes depreciate, she was ready with her manager-perfect answer of, “It depends on how well the home owners keep their places up.” And I still can’t believe you have to contract for your own lawn care on those postage stamp sized yards! I think I told her that three times. You’d be hearing lawn mowers constantly. On the good side they have the cable company I like but on the bad side their community room/health facility and office building doesn’t have a single bulletin board where you could post to organize a book or movie club or whatever. No newsletter either and only two organized events each year---a yard sale day and an ice cream social. Also on the bad side is there aren’t any trees in the entire place that are taller than me. Where would Levi pee? That would be so hard to get used to. I’d have hang large paintings of white pines on the walls to feel at home. She drove me around the place and took me inside a model and I could make it work except I hated the spa-like bathroom with its toilet tucked in a chubby hole, a huge clear glass shower and a deep, claw-footed bathtub. I’d have to use the tub to display my sea shell collection because there is no way I could get in and out of that magazine perfect tub sitting in front of floor-to-ceiling windows. And that shower was so open I’d be fighting the urge to hang girly curtains inside or turn it into a greenhouse.

After leaving the park office I went a block up the road to a condo community that has a basket load of new condos going up…zero steps and in a price range I can afford. And for the bonus round, on the other side of a screen of trees is a community of 400 families who’ve all passed background checks. Across the street is a golf course, not that I golf but they don’t generate a lot of traffic. The community is dog friendly with no weight restrictions so Levi could turn into an obese schnauzer I'd have to pull around in a wagon and it wouldn't get us kicked out. Judging by the outsides and online photos, these condos are fabulous and they are just down the street from the stand-alone condo that a few years ago wanted to interview Levi before accepting my offer on a place I loved. Nyah, nyah, nyah!

Oh, and my target area of around this golf course? Perfect. It’s four miles to a library, an urgent care facility and my banks, six miles to a movie theater, gas station and my favorite grocery store chain with a Starbucks inside, seven miles to my great-niece’s house where my niece is locked in to doing child care for the next five years and it’s less than a mile from a major street that my brother and nephew frequently use---my nephew would only live five miles away and my brother fifteen. My younger niece who lives the furthest would only be eighteen miles away and my oldest niece just fourteen---both drives on country roads. And all my doctor’s offices are ganged up on one road, which is a fairly easy driving commute of ten miles back into the city. So now what’s the game plan? Get serious about downsizing and in the spring maybe start working with a realtor. ©


NOTE: Photo above is an artist rendering of the condos I looked at and the photo below is from the Sun Community. The condo is $208,000 (for two bedrooms)---yes, brand new---and the three bedroom manufactured home below is listed at $92,900. The HOA on the condo was only $200 a month and covers trash pickup, yard care, water, sewer, snow removal and insurance.


Wednesday, January 7, 2015

Egg Cookers, Moving and Genealogy



I bought myself an egg cooker. It seems like a stupid, space eating gadget to buy when making hard boiled eggs in a pan of water works perfectly fine. But I told myself with an electric egg cooker I can walk away and not burn the house down. That’s called justifying my purchase to label it a safety device but, darn it, I can’t hear the stove timer go off anymore…or the doorbell and who knows what else. Now if I could figure out a way to justify getting a new blender I’d be a happy camper. The one I have works fine---I use it every day with the high protein diet I’m on---but I’ve got a bug up my butt about owning one that is chrome and black and matches my coffee pot and toaster. Maybe I could pretend that Bush is still in office and he just told us all to go out shopping to help the economy. Practice patriotism with your credit card, I’m still smirking about that idea from a sitting president, no less.

I’ve been very busy on the computer this past week researching everything from vacate lots and new home building prices to used and brand new condos to manufactured home parks and manufactured homes---both new and used. The more I learn the more frustrating it gets. I should have known better, but I didn’t follow Glinda the Good Witch from the North’s advice about starting at the beginning so I wasted a lot of time picking out floor plans and dealers of new manufactured homes when I should have done more research on the two home parks where I’d like living. “Surprise, surprise, surprise.” as Gomer Pyle used to say on the Andy Griffith Show, they don’t have any lots available to place a new manufactured home. (Let’s be politically incorrect here and call them ‘trailers’, ‘manufactured homes’ is too long to type.) My favorite of the two parks is expanding but they don’t know when. Okay, I could wait a year, in fact a year would get a lot downsizing done. But they can’t give me a time table when they expect the expansion to happen. Both parks allow dogs BUT if your dog is a problem then they can tell you to get rid of it. That would be like asking you to get rid of your kid! If Levi barks too much is that any worse than teenagers who annoy old ladies with their skate boards and yelling? I think not! Everything has a yin and a yang. You love your kids and your dogs, hate the noise they make, but a world with too much yin or too much yang would slide off its axle.  

And that dog policy at the “trailer” park is what led me to researching condos in my target area. I found one that is a zero steps community with a clubhouse and social schedule. Perfect. But before I get my head fully emerged in their floor plans I have requested their pet policy and condo fees rate. I hate giving my contact information out to these places but there is no other way to get vital input that will help me decide what I want to do with the rest of my life. Levi will only be seven on the 23rd of this month. It’s not like I can wait for him to kick the bucket to make my decisions and choices easier and even if he was two feet under---I can’t dig a deeper grave at my age---I’d probably want another Levi in my life. Only next time I’m getting a dog that is no bigger than a bread box, has a bark like a cricket. One of my niece’s daughter-in-laws has a dog that is smaller than most cats and I swear it has a bigger wardrobe than I do. That may be a slight exaggeration but I can’t help it, I have dog-size envy. When I got Levi they told me he’d only grow to twelve pounds and he is pushing thirty, and no, his vet only wants him to lose one pound, so he’s not doing protein shakes with me. Come spring, he’ll be able to walk that pound off, no problem.

I’ve also started working on a genealogy tree and eventual book for my Mom’s side of the family. (I did one for my Dad’s side in 2013.) Already I’ve found a scandal. I’m actually building on some research that was done by my great-aunt in the pre-computer age and she claimed that my great-grandfather was assigned to an Army post at Leavenworth, Kansas but the 1900 census shows that he was listed as an inmate. I’ll bet she never thought that cat would get out of the bag! So here I was at midnight trying to research why he was in prison…most likely for desertion from his infantry post, I suspected. Wrong. When I mentioned this to my oldest niece she was able to find proof that in 1900 Leavenworth was a hospital, not a prison. My great-grandfather had taken a bullet in the head during the war and was mostly likely he was being treated for reoccurring issues. It’s funny how people you’ve never met can come to life when you start fleshing them out on a genealogy chart. Then again, I’m the person who thinks an electric egg cooker is fascinating, so don’t go by me. Most people’s eyes get glazed over from boredom when you talk about genealogy too long, so I’m stopping right here. ©