DING DONG. REALTOR CALLING

Last night we had our first realtor visit the house.  I had called her on a recommendation by a dear old friend of Ray's, and although she said "yes, you are pretty early in calling a realtor", she understood why Ray and I wanted her to see the house.  We wanted her advice, suggestions and input on what to do with the emptiness of some of the rooms in our house, and what to do about the colors (do we paint or not, do we stage or not, do we leave as is or not).  She was a wealth of information, and we liked what she told us about housing prices (they have increased $50,000 this year alone) and our housing price!  We have two short sales in this neighborhood of twenty-five homes, so she hopes those will go away quickly, and she recommends putting our house on the market in early March.

What she told us in our ninety minute tour and conversation is that we have to tone the red office down a bit--repaint it.  The purple bedroom of Carly's, the teal room she used as an office and her yellow bathroom--repaint them.  The yellow would be fine if it were a lighter yellow.  Nope, we will take it all the way to neutral.  The steps going down to our unfinished basement--why not add a coat of paint to the walls, since they are splotched up?  Sure.  Exterior of the house--clean up the peeling areas (seven year old house) and repaint the trim.  Prune the shrubs in the fall. Power wash the sidewalk and small faux balcony trim.  Re-design the rooms in the house.  Take pieces of furniture from one room and add to the other.  May need help with this one.  But we were given a great compliment when she told us we have done a great job maintaining the house, keeping it so clean and orderly, and that it will show well.  Hope so.

Then today, more comparables came in from surrounding neighborhoods.  As well as a house that sold in my neighborhood just this month (none of the neighbors knew what it sold for, but now I know) for a fantastic price!  There are four models in my neighborhood.  This house is the smallest model, and my house is the largest of the four.  So in the spring, here's hoping Ray and I make enough money to pay the realtor.  We are just hoping the market continues to go up, up, up and that it stays a sellers market (with low inventory and high demand), maybe throw a bidding war in there (lol), and that the house sells easy breezy next summer.  Then what do we do?  I know what Ray wants to do.  I know what I would like to do, but I don't know if I can do it.  Can I?  Oh boy.

When the realtor asked what we will do if the house sells quickly (and she then says we have about 45 days usually to be out of the house), we did discuss moving into an extended stay apartment near Ray's office for a few months.  There will still be things to do and finalize I would think (selling cars, quitting jobs and me making things up to do possibly stalling).  We will know more in 2014.

EIGHT YEARS LATE AND ONE DAY EARLY

The reason this post has ANYTHING AT ALL to do with Panama is that I so, so, so cannot wait to get there and when I need simple medical care, such as a physical,  yearly exam or even a  mammogram, I will not have to deal with a flippin', flappin' insurance company!  Okay, I am not stupid.  I will be getting/paying for major medical insurance once there, but when it comes to a simple cold, sinus infection, toe problem, blood work, yearly girlie visit and so on, I am going to walk in and pay that (from what I have read) nominal cost in cash.  And not hand over an insurance card, pay my co-pay and hope for the best when my Explanation of Benefits comes back showing that I owe nothing.  Yeah right!  Like that happens often with me.  With Ray, he gets his colonoscopy, and it's all paid, the angels are singing overhead when he opens up the envelope, and I bet they even want to throw money back at him, but they (the insurance company little people) have to refrain from doing so.  His gallbladder surgery this week, it will be all paid for (the pre-auth says so).  (See my post about my physical that I had done back in May--still waiting for the Quality Assurance Board to review the coding, and yes, they told me I can call them daily to ask "how's it going in QA today?").  Okay, back to me and my day.

The reason I have never listened to my sister about having a baseline colonoscopy done at the early age of forty or even forty-two or before now is because my insurance company shows that the little people will pay for this procedure when I hit the age of fifty.  It does not state anything about "family history and deaths due to colon cancer".  They leave that part out.  I have in the past asked (as in last year), but the PA at the office I went to for my normal yearly exam didn't seem concerned.  The PA at the office this year did, and the doctor that did my yearly physical did, and he said that with family history the insurance company will pay earlier than age fifty.  When Ray went to have his gallbladder evaluated, he was told by the gastroenterologist that he was late for his colonoscopy due to family history.  Well, off I went this morning to consult about when I should be scheduling my thirty minutes of "the best nap ever" (Ray says) and colonoscopy.  It was an easy appointment, but the computers were slow, down, and then slow.  My prescription couldn't be filled (for those thirty plus pills I will have to take), and I couldn't schedule the procedure in the office.  (This was another thing that worked so lovely for Ray.  No kinks.)  I left the office calling the other office to make the appointment.  So eight years later, I will have this procedure done....in October.

Moving along to my other appointment--the good ol' yearly mammogram.  I called the office, which is about fifteen miles north on I-95, and asked if I could be seen any earlier than 10:40.  It was now 8:45.  Can I come in for 9:10?  Sure, no problem.  Forgetting that it was a Friday morning (doesn't matter the day), and that the highway is a mess with construction.  Hating to be late anywhere, I called at 9:00 and said that one lane was shut down on the highway (like the receptionist cares--I know this because I work in a dental office where you need to just call and be quick with your troubles, and let's move onto the next line that is ringing off the hook).  I would not make the appointment.  She tells me there is a fifteen minute grace period.  Perfect.  I arrive at 9:15 (the lane opened up).  I had all papers filled out, declined the 3D imaging for an extra $40 and waited.  I was called up to verify my information.  Backing up here, when I made the appointment for today, I knew that I was a day early (I had my last mammogram August 12th, but with the 365 yearly calendar it comes out to today being a day shy of one year).  I asked the receptionist about this and was told that my insurance pays for mammograms once a year.  I checked my benefits booklet online this past week.  It states the same.  Today, the receptionist hands me a waiver to sign.  Because it is one day before the one year mark, if my insurance doesn't pay for the mammogram, I am responsible for the cost.  This waiver shows that I agree to that policy.  "How much is the mammogram (without 3D)", I ask?  $348.  Uh, no.  Absolutely not.  I ask if I should call my insurance company (telling her what I was told when I scheduled the appointment and what my benefits booklet states).  She proceeds to tell me that we are well into my appointment (not my problem that even though the forms are filled out at home, it takes them another fifteen minutes to process it all and call me up to review everything that was processed) and also tells me that even if I am told that the X-ray will be covered, if it isn't, I will owe $348.  I reschedule and leave.  Knowing my luck, I will owe.

What I did decide is that I will do the 3D imaging when I return and pay the $40 cost.  A friend has breast cancer and the mammogram did not show the little guy of a tumor, so I will go for the extra depth most definitely.

I also decided that I will count my blessings for being so healthy up to this point, not sweat the small stuff so much as frustrating as my morning was, and just hope the healthy reports continue when I do decide to go to the doctor and play with the insurance company.  And I think I only have one more year of these fun and games and then I get to experience these visits Panamanian-style.  Oh boy.  I better watch what I wish for here.

SUPER HIGHS AND A FEW LOWS OF MOVING

The beautiful truck with the movers to do the job for us this time!

This past Monday, Ray had the day off, because Carly was moving out.  She was going to her own apartment, and wisely, we hired movers this time.  I did not want to move her things again.  TwoMarinesMoving.com was a beautiful thing to see early Monday morning.  I had decided I could easily work half a day, and then drive the hour to her apartment.  The movers would be just about done or possibly done, and I would then be able to help with the unpacking and unloading of boxes.  The hardest part was waiting for my morning to even get started, since my first two patients cancelled.  Fortunately my third patient came in very early at my request, and the day was over soon enough.  I hit the road excited to see the place Carly had chosen to live for the next year or longer.  I knew just how to get to the building, but then I realized I had no clue what apartment she was in (What building--in the back was what I had known for two months. What street--not parallel to the busy one that leads to the hospital.  What door--on the first floor near the pool.).  Within minutes of her complex, I called her, she sounded great, and she guided me into the parking lot.

Seeing the huge smile on Carly's face and then on Ray's when he came up behind her as they opened the door to lead me into her new apartment was so much more beautiful then seeing those movers. Their smiles lit up the place making it even more warm and inviting then I knew it could be, and just added to the bright and sunny day that we were lucky to have.  This was the best part of the day!

Some of the more memorable moments (after those smiles) that I will have of the day are:

*Making the bed twice, since we forgot to put on the mattress pad the first time. While frustrating, it was still fun getting those brand new, fresh and crisp sheets, pillowcases and comforter put on the queen size bed that had been our guest room furniture for seven years.  The bed, dresser and nightstand are gorgeous and grown up just like her.

 *The closet seemed to be a daunting and overwhelming task (she has so many clothes, but who am I to judge since I have been able to get away with wearing uniforms during the week for the past thirty years!), but once we folded her sweatshirts and while she complimented my technique, they all fit perfectly on all of those shelves in her walk-in closet.  

*Being delegated tasks such as putting away the cutlery, plates and glasses or watching Ray build the bookshelves was a much better memory than visiting a nearby department store at five pm with the hundreds of others (furloughed employees possibly? why were they all out shopping?).  She knows what store not to go to anymore.  This one happened to be turned around, cluttered and just a mess, but the good memory is that the three of us shopped together, were annoyed together and still laughed together.  

* Hanging up the brightly striped shower curtain in her master bathroom was a happy and chipper chore, even though the liner had been temporarily misplaced.  The thought of not having the bathroom completed then and there would be unheard of by two OCD people.  Happily, the liner was found within minutes of its loss.

*Sitting down to eat wonderfully homemade chicken salad for lunch was a much deserved break and familiarity, but then forgetting only her dinner at the store (left on the carousel, perhaps?) was stupid and comical.  Good thing she loves that chicken salad!

*The cleaniness of the apartment upon arrival and filling it up with my daughter's personal possessions was heartwarming, and Ray and I were both just so excited for her.

*Driving away from her apartment that night (it was a work night for me, but Ray was off the next day) and seeing that same gorgeous but now tired smile of her's light up the parking lot was absolutely priceless.  

And then of course there were hard parts of the day--

*The cleanliness of her bedroom at home, but the emptiness of all of the rooms was a little bit melancholy.  I am used to the empty living room, because she had the living room furniture in her apartment last year.  But then to see her baby trunk completely cleaned out, and her bathroom drawers along with cabinets totally empty was sadly real.  Things she had left sitting around for the four years she was in college, knowing that she was coming home for winter, spring and summer breaks...gone.  She had done an amazing job of purging and then donating, trashing,  and also selling her things.  She had done just as amazing a job of packing the things she needed to have with her and to make her place her own.

And I realized while driving home with the convertible top down, blasting my music on that gorgeous Monday night, that Ray and I had done an amazing job raising a super bright, beautiful, independent woman!  There is no better feeling than this.  Monday will always be an amazing and special day albeit sad, but it will be equally happy to see her flourish in her new life and for her to become a part of the new world around her.
(Now Ray and I will just need to have her smile that smile, calm us down and gently move us along the day we change our lives and our world.)

This is our office.  The totes and boxes are for Carly's future classroom.

This is the dining room "pre-move".

This is the living room "pre-move".

Carly whittled her memories and belongings for storage down to these totes.

The totes on the left are empty (this whole space once housed floor to ceiling, left to right full totes.  The lone one straight ahead is my "Panama" tote.

AS THE MEMORIES FADE, MY DIARIES FILL IN THE BLANKS

Of course I knew, while purging my STUFF and pouring over my dad's slides of his business travels, that I would find pictures of my parents traveling the world.  I forgot they had visited Panama until my sister mentioned she thought they had, and I found proof in pictures of them at the Panama Canal (shown in a previous post).  And tonight, while reading the first of MANY diaries that I began in 1977 and have kept in Rubbermaid totes ever since, I  discover that I wrote down the day they left for Panama.  What I remember is staying with the Sweeney family (LOVED the time my sister and I spent with them while my parents were away),  but I never could remember where they had gone (I was 12 years old).  Now I know.  I also wrote that they returned from Panama, but I was too busy writing about middle school crushes to write a thing about how they liked their trip, what they did or why they even decided to go to Panama.  Two diaries down (1977-1979), three to go.

And saved I did.  For 36 years!

I was very excited that Lisa spent the night!  Wish I remembered who she was!

TROPICS OF THE PIANKATANK (and our weekend)

Lovely.  This is how the week looks for our temperatures in Stafford, VA, or all of the east coast.  95 degrees and higher starting Tuesday with the heat index making it feel like 110 by the end of the week.  Oh, the heat and humidity is back.  Can't wait.  It has been a little slow in coming this season, but we never go without.  We have had more than enough rain though.  July has already broken records.

Week of July 14

Because of Ray's scheduled and then re-scheduled gall bladder surgery, I am off this Wednesday.  The start of the intense temps.  But Carly and I have plans.  Indoor plans, thankfully.  NO amusement parks in the plans.  She moves out in two weeks, and we are going to explore IKEA.  She doesn't want or need for much since she gets to acquire all of our things, but when Ray and I were in Sweden, I ate vacuum cleaner pastries (yes, that is the name) and loved them!  I was told by a patient (who is from Sweden) that IKEA has them.  I haven't been to IKEA in years.  I, unfortunately, was too lazy to go into the biggest one ever when we traveled Sweden two years ago and am looking forward to shopping this week.  And perhaps visiting a dark, cold theater to catch up on a movie and eat my pastries.  Time to play a bit before Carly moves out and starts her J.O.B.

 Carly has done an amazing job letting go of things from the past, we have given away books and Barbies and more, as well as taken loads of items to Goodwill.  She is for the most part packed up with piles of things going to her apartment, her classroom or storage (once we leave).  I just ordered a flash drive that holds 16,000 pictures, and it will only pull pictures off the computer when uploading.  Seems easy enough, and I have two digital frames that I plan to keep turned on in Panama streaming pictures.   

Ray is loving the looks of the place.  The clutter is leaving, the piles are leaving, the lawn is mowed (just threw that in) and he was lucky enough to suffer not one but two gallbladder attacks starting at three am this morning.  It sure is a good thing they moved his surgery back a month!  I don't know how he will make it to August 14th, poor guy.  Along with today being a great day for him, the past two days really have been super (I think).  It started out with Ray having a  successful, non-eventful first ever colonoscopy.  Checked that off his big boy list of things to do before moving to Panama.  No need to go into details here, and yes, it is my turn in a few months.  We decided not to go to the lake house.  It was raining on and off throughout the day, and we had plans for the rest of the weekend.  Instead, we saw the movie "The Heat" with Sandra Bullock, had some laughs and ate a ton of food.  I decided that since Ray had not had much food prior to his appointment and was starving, I would also eat a lot with him.  

Yesterday  we enjoyed a fantastic day (the rain went away really fast) at our friend's second home (their river house that they just added 1200 square feet to) on the Piankatank River.  We sat on the dock, and I tried my hand at fishing (it's hard work!), sat indoors on the screened porch, sat at the table eating lots of yummy foods, and talked non-stop for ten hours.  Our friends kept double checking with us if the porch was okay, or was it too hot.  We reassured them it wasn't too hot and it's the humidity that causes the uncomfortableness, but that we loved sitting in the big, comfy, rattan chairs, and we have to get used to it!  (Get us ready for the tropics!)  This couple (we met them on a cruise 12 years ago and are penpals for the most part through emails, oh, and we traveled to New Orleans together) is downsizing from a four story home to a 55 and over community, and the river house is going to be their retirement home.  For now, they enjoy it on the weekends and holidays like we do our lake house.  We chatted a lot about letting go of things.  They are cleaning out closets and attics, and we discussed that until we are ready to let go of those dolls or trophies or artwork our kids made, things won't get thrown out.  But gradually, we do eventually get that "Aha" moment when we think, 'why am I still hanging onto this stuff', and out of the house it goes.  I had that "Aha" moment on Friday.  Carly and Ray were being good about packing things up tidier for the when the movers come to move her things.  I was staring at dolls that my dad bought for me and my sister in every country that he traveled to on business.  These dolls came home, we were allowed to play with them for a few minutes and then they were displayed in a case.  The case and dolls were then showcased in a hallway in our finished basement of the first place Ray and I owned (a three story townhouse).  When we moved to our first single family home, the case went to the trash (or we may have given it away), and the dolls went into a Rubbermaid tote.  Fifteen plus years later and without Carly caring to play with them when she was little, my "Aha" moment happened on Friday when I realized these dolls had to go.  I am going to take a picture of them, and then out the door they go.  This week.  Before I change my mind.  Wait, I think there are two dolls from Panama (can you guess which one's and another one has a broken neck!).

PANAMANIAN LINENS AND OX CART (catchy title there)

This is where it all begins.  With the linens.  The other day, Ray sent Carly a link to woot.com.  The daily special was 800 thread count sheets in a variety of colors.  Woot is associated with Amazon and posts daily discounts on goods.  Every day there is something different from sheets to tablets to computers to small fans--you name it.  This is where I bought my now archaic Kindle for dirt cheap three summers ago--a treat to myself when my mom passed away, and it wasn't refurbished like some of the high dollared items can be. Today's special is a reconditioned laptop for $350.  Carly replied back to the email that she had already bought sheets for her soon to be queen size bed and was happy enough with them, but I wrote back to Ray and said, "let's buy them and put them in our Panama stash."  Our Panama stash is a Rubbermaid tote we have set aside from our purging of the basement that contains items that have to go to Panama.  My Knickerbocker cupie doll is definitely in that tote!  So much for just bringing some suitcases with clothes and some treasures.  Now we will have sheets in slate blue.  But I have read enough about Panamanian goods to know that the linens can be great quality for a great price.  Otherwise, this is one area where the quality doesn't seem so great.  (This also includes the napkins that give you to use at most restaurants!)

Now to the real dilemma.  A shout out to anyone that can tell me the how-to's of packing this ox cart.

My dad purchased this in Costa Rica, and it sat in the corner of our eat in kitchen for thirty years.  Now it is at the lake house with me.  It simply must go to Panama.  The wheels and handle do come off.  (I just looked.)  Do I go to a PakMail store to have it boxed up?  Do I just find a large box and wrap it up myself and take to the airport with my suitcases.  I could "google" it, but I decided someone "out there" in blogging land will help me.

Here's to a Happy 4th of July on whatever land you may be! My walk is done, since it gets so humid here, and the lake is calling me. First, some breakfast :)

FOUR WEEKS, AND YES, I AM COUNTING SLOWLY

Four weeks from today, we will have moved Carly to a place of her own.  She is 21 1/2 years old.  She has a good paying job to look forward to, a great apartment and roommate.  Ray was 19 when he moved out of the townhouse he lived in with his mom.  He moved into an apartment with two roommates and had a good paying job.  I  moved out when I was 20.  I moved into my sister and her husband's townhouse (I lived in the finished basement).  I had a good paying job, also.  So Carly leaving at such a young age so as not to have to fight the horrific Northern Virginia traffic wasting time and a lot of her newly earned money on gas and wear and tear on the car makes perfect sense.  And the best reason to be on her own I really do realize is so she may continue the independence she started and grew to know and love while in graduate school last year (and not have her mom asking her a million and one questions about her day and plans for the next day haha).  She is young, but this is how things should go.  Right?  This is how things went for me and Ray.  It felt great to move out and live on our own.  It was exciting and fun, although there was anxiety, too.  I never thought once about moving back with my parents.  After a year, I moved out of my sister's house and north to share an apartment with my previous college roommate.  I don't think Carly thinks she would ever want to or need to move back here.  She is very fortunate in today's time that she can be on her own and not living with her parents.  I guess my anxiety is that this house won't be here for her if she has to move back home.   Or it is mother's guilt.  That's truly what it comes down to.  She knows Ray and I will be here for her, and she knows that when we are in Panama we will also be available to her and able to guide her every step of the way.  We have told her to keep the lines of communication open always.  And if she is ever in need, we are the first people she knows to call out to (no matter where we are).

Carly is going through all of her things saving and trashing like I posted not too long ago.  Last night her Barbies (and Kens and Skippers) were lined up on the family room floor. They were scaring her for some reason.  The figures just looked odd to her.  They just kept looking up at her.  They were very easy to give up!  I went through a box that held five diaries (or more), boxes that had old prom flowers in them, love notes and notes passed to me while sitting in class from friends, old eyeglasses and hearing aids and more crazily hoarded stuff!  Most was thrown away (I was in that throw away kind of mood).  The diaries I will read over again perhaps just for kicks.  After flipping through just a few pages, I read that I had a high fever of 98.7 on one page, and I hated my sister on the next.  This will all make for great stories for my patients while I am scaling and polishing their teeth (I have a captive audience!).  The one diary specifically states that I am to "save this book to read to my children once they are old enough to understand it!!!"  And that, after 35 years is what I have done (I knew there was a reason why all that junk was still in my basement!).  I will share in the laughs with Ray and Carly, I will let them laugh at me, too, over these next four weeks while we delve into not only my memories from 35 years ago but also into Carly's memories from the last 21 1/2.  There are so many memories we share as well. This is what makes moving and retiring to Panama in an odd way special to me.  We are all accomplishing the task of "getting rid of our stuff", as overwhelming as it seems, alongside each other and enjoying each other all the way.  (Oh yes, Ray also has had a few things to throw away.  Don't ever let him say differently.)