Got a phone call Wednesday night from our realtor up in New York. She had an offer for our camp. It was too low so we counter offered. They counter-counter offered on Thursday and we agreed. It's a cash as is sale so there shouldn't be any problems.
We got the names to three attorneys in Herkimer who the realtor recommended. Terry made some phone calls Friday morning and we chose the only one that would give us a straight answer as to the cost of handling a closing. (The first went to an answering machine and the second said, "Well that depends....") We still had the title search that was performed way back when we purchased the property in the mid-80s. Plus the deed and tax bills from last year. Could I get to the office before they closed at 4:30 PM Friday afternoon? Hell yeah! IT was only 11:30 AM and Herkimer's only 190 miles away. No sweat!
I got there at 3 PM. And not all those roads between here and there have 60 mpg\h speed limits, you know. All I know is I was still getting passed on the NY Thruway!
Terry joined me at the Bolt Hole later that evening as she left around 3 PM.
I spent much of Saturday morning replacing 10 boards in the middle of the screened porch's floor. Tongue and groove stuff is supposed to be laid from one end to the other. Trying to replace sections in the middle is a...challenge. Especially when that final board is 1/8 of an inch wider than the hole. I didn't have a table saw so I screwed one plant to a longer, wider board from the barn to rip the edge of that overly wide board and then slid it in from the end. Tight fit! As for the other boards, I don't think I used more than six 4d finishing nails (galvanized) to encourage a couple of boards that wanted to bend where they shouldn't.
Meanwhile, Terry was going around bagging clothes (some for home, some for donation), bundling books (again, some for home and a lot for recycling--mostly old Reader's Digest books. Hey! They did add some insulation to the walls.) I went on to clean up the red shed behind the house, and start on the brown shed on the east side. Then joined Terry in sorting stuff for donation, home and trash. I also protected her from the mean old teenage mice she encountered in one closet and fended off that piece of string she thought was a snake skin.
As we worked, we thought about where we would put all the furniture and decided we would rather sell it that have to haul it out. So we emailed the realtor our suggestion and offered all the furniture (except for a few choice pieces) to the buyers. [The realtor would later give me the buyers' phone numbers and tell me to make the suggestion to them. So I called Sunday night and they agreed to the purchase with only a little haggling. They don't have to go shopping and I don't have to figure out when I'll have to haul and where I'll have to store all those things.]
In the midst of this all, we learned that my Aunt Doris passed away. She was the youngest of the five Dunn sisters--and one brother. She was also the last survivor of that particular generation. They were all sweet ladies and independent as hell. Each had skills that they applied to daily life while raising families. And they each had the misfortune of seeing their husbands--and in some cases a child--predecease them. They are all missed by, not only their own offspring but their nieces and nephews--many of whom are grandparents now.
Sunday, we spent the morning packaging and boxing still more stuff and filled the Tundra cargo area to the brim with trash and the back seat with treasure. Terry's little Compass got filled with books and magazines to be recycled at the dump and clothes of the home-or-donation variety. We packed up most of the Tupperware and dried foods and stacked those boxes in the living area. Ate lunch and left for home. I went one way while she went another and I got home all of 2 minutes before she did.
After feeding the cats, we unloaded those items we wanted for home, and those that we wanted to donate. Tomorrow (Monday) morning, we'll both go to the dump. She to the recycling area, me to the trash area. Then I'll drive north to get those boxes we packed and bring them home.
Tuesday we both go north--in separate cars--and get to work cleaning out the garage (me) and washing down the house (Terry).
Wednesday, Terry goes over to Liverpool (just west of Syracuse) for a dinner with one of her stitching groups and then home. I'll leave a little later than she does but I'll be going home with a load of stuff from the garage.
Thursday I'll be prepping for my fishing trip to Quebec. Joe and I will leave Friday around 3 PM to arrive at Clova (look it up if you can!) in time for our 7 AM Saturday flight to our wilderness camp.
And that fishing trip--and an August 21st closing date is why Terry and I are racing back and forth between the Aerie and the Bolt Hole this week and probably between August 17th and 21st!
Just hope I don't run out of gas like Kyle Busch at Pocono today. Poor guy was leading by a considerable margin (because two others had already run out of fuel!) got the white flag for the final lap...and...ran out of fuel himself!