Soon To Be Houseless, But Not Homeless

Our home is where our monkey is. Bonzai, our constant travel companion,

sits here in our tent on one of our road trips.

Recall we were taking personal inventory and considering what we might see for the coming year in the previous blog posting. Events over the last several days have demonstrated how quickly things can change that force us to move on with new plans. It can be very exciting and it can be very unsettling.

Wednesday our realtor placed a sign in front of our house at about noon. By 4 pm we had two competing offers, and by the following afternoon, we had a purchase contract. If there are no glitches, we will be houseless by April 30. 

This old house...

We had two showings and two offers on the first day of listing the house.

After we bought Leilani it was becoming apparent that once again we needed to have a serious discussion about whether we should continue with both a boat AND a house, or if it was finally time to give up on the home base here in North Carolina. The subject of maintaining a house and a boat is a commonly debated subject among people who sail “full-time”.  Some will argue that it is best to have a home base as something to come back to, particularly, because you need a break away from the boat at times. A home base provides some comfort and a familiar place to plant your feet back on soil. The other camp says, “sell the house, sell everything, free yourself”. There are those who argue something in between with the option to rent the house, or to have family and friends live there.   

Porch repair demands seemingly endless attention.

There is something satisfying about repair.

Now ready for painting!

We adopted the “keep the house as a base camp” plan when we became “voluntarily unemployed”. It made a lot of sense to have a home base as we jumped into this cruising life. As the initial stages of the cruising life were dominated mostly by working on the boat, the house provided the convenient base from which we could work in a boatyard or a local slip. Anyone who has tried to live on a boat or in a house in the middle of a renovation knows what a relief it is to get away from the chaos to take a shower and relax. After our various shakedown excursions and more extended travels, coming back to this old house was welcoming and a comforting luxury.

This is not Bud's favorite job - sealing the chimney on the steep roof.

Replacing siding can be easy or hard.  This section was more difficult than it looks.

Bet you haven't seen a fireplace like this.  Just a bit of caulk and paint was all it needed.

We learned that having a house, particularly an old house here in the harsh southern coastal environment, also meant that when we were not on the boat, we needed to work on the house. It did not matter if it was a boat trip or a road trip that took us away, when we returned to the house, this old gal wanted attention. Of course, many others might simply open the wallet and hand over the cash to have someone else do the work. We chose to do much of the work ourselves partly because we tend to be fearless about what jobs we can tackle (whether we are good at them or not can be debated) and partly because we were appalled by how much it costs to have someone do the work, often poorly. So, it became a cycle of “work on the boat, travel by boat, return, work on the house, take a road trip, return, REPEAT”.  

Tracy sewing new helm cushion on Leilani.

"Some days you are the bug, some days you are the windshield" - Steven Tyler. 

A common view on the road in Texas.

   

Most recently, our view of all of this began to change. We truly love this old house that we have owned for about 25 years. It has “character” but demands a lot of attention, not unlike a boat. We were becoming slaves to the labor demanded by both the house and the boat. It was exhausting. Friends and family have often expressed the false view that we were immersed in a glorious, adventurous life. Yes, our life fit that view some of the time, but certainly not as much as we wanted. The joy of owning the house was dwindling as we began to realize the house owned us.

We also wanted to simplify our life.  We did not want to be owned by our belongings.  And finally, we came to the realization that we weren’t ready to settle down- not here, not now and not as far in the future we could see. Having a house in North Carolina meant that we would have to come back at some time, and that might not always be where we wanted to be. We wanted to have the true freedom to go where we wanted, when we wanted and with less baggage.

What is next? Part of the answer is obvious – we have to move out of the house before the end of April. And there is a lot to do before then…a lot to do.

The potential buyers have suggested that they may want “everything in the house, including the dishes”, which will reduce the need to sell most items at a yard sale or to store them. We still expect to have a yard sale, donate many other items, and store a limited (hopefully very limited) number of things.

Living room staged for prospective buyers.

Farmhouse table made from heart pine reclaimed from Georgia barn.

Fireplace and reading room all pretty.

We will soon be houseless, but not homeless. Our home will be Leilani. We will pack up the remaining gear to transport to Leilani in Brunswick. We expect to depart from Georgia before the first of May if possible. The remaining details about how all that will come together will come later.  

Bye for now. Please let us know what you think. Comment below.