I took a job back in April with a mortgage company. The position was
not a remote position, but I worked remotely for them for a few months
before we could relocate to Texas to work in the office.
Over the next few months, my daughter finished her school year, my
father in law passed away; my mother in law (finally) made a decision
about her living arrangements, and we got some important bills paid.
With all of this done, it was time to go househunting. We found a home in
a growth area that has a top-rated school district, and bought it after a
couple of visits and an excruciating mortgage process.
Our Town
I guess this city is only about 20 years old. It's part of a metroplex,
and is sort of like a borough in New York. It's definitely... different.
I mean, it's a different lifestyle than we've been used to.
For example, being "in traffic" meant being stacked
up four deep at a stoplight. Traffic here is... I live near two of the
most dangerous highways the US. I live really close to my office — about
ten minutes away — and getting on the road in the mornings is like
joining a speedway race. I was warned over and over again by my new
coworkers to never speed on that street, because it's a giant trap, so I
don't. Yet at 6:30 in the morning, the 40 MPH speed limit is the last
thing on the other drivers' minds; many of whom are headed toward one of
the aforementioned highways. I drive my car way harder now than I
ever have. As I drive further and further from home I work hard to find
routes that don't involve the highways or the turnpike, and have been
pleased at the payoff.
With all this traffic (the population in the metroplex is greater than
7 million) comes the inconveniences that naturally comes with it. My
daughter is in a brand new school building with 1200 students. For all the
planning they did, traffic routing and parking is complete crap. I actually
have to get to her school a half hour early to JOIN THE LINE of cars lined
up waiting to pick up their kids in the afternoon. If I'm not there that
early, or at about that time, I'm easily out on the road outside of the
property — and I've seen the lines of cars extend out into the distance. I'm
lucky my kid is in athletics; it gets us out of having to wait in a similar
queue in the mornings.
Another note on the school: they got balls. Property taxes here are
already outrageous, and they're in a brand new giant building. Yet the
band teacher just tells parents he'll accept their $150 BAND FEE and the
parents whip out their checkbooks like it's no big deal. Multiplied by
the number of band kids, the teacher has immediate access to another $50K
to spend completely arbitrarily. There's no reason for that kind of a haul,
let alone to have the expectation sane people are just going to hand over
$150 so their kid can be in a middle school class. MIDDLE SCHOOL. Not even
the high school. And by the way, of the attendees of parents' night, only
two families were not Middle Eastern or Oriental — families where mastery
of a musical instrument is generally of high priority. I'd love for someone
to explain to me what makes a $150 band FEE a reasonable expense. Athletics
is even more cultish — they have separate and special uniforms to
differentiate the athletics kids from kids enrolled in normal PE. In the first
days of school, kiddo was told to expect that she'd be treated differently
because of her membership in athletics; as if the other kids were told to
worship the athletics kids, or it's just assumed all understand the Texas
sports cult of personality. For all the criticism I'm giving athletics,
I must also say that kiddo loves its team and seems to be forming some
fast friendships there, for which I'm very, very thankful.
The city itself seems rather small, but perhaps that's a function of how
much we've explored. Everything seems sort of built around a main intersection;
each direction will lead you straight into a different city. Everything here
is brick. EVERYTHING. All is modern, shiny, and stone. There aren't really
any neighborhoods, it seems; homes are all in protected subdivisions, meticulously
planned with homes that generally look alike, garages behind the homes (not
beside them) accessible via alleys. It's almost symbolic of the town: perfectly
manicured lawns face the street, with garbage cans lined up along the alleys
behind.
Our Texas Home
Everybody we talk to who is from this area tells us about
how the whole area was nothing but fields 30 years ago. I think we're
actually on what's considered a rural mail route, even though we're
in an actual subdivision in an actual city. My home is referred to as
an "older home," but it was only built in the early '90s! My last home
was built in 1941!
We also bought a home warranty, which I'm pretty sure has already
paid for itself at least once: in our first month in the home, we
made several calls for things to get fixed or replaced.
Here are a few other notes about our new place:
That Lovely Pool
The biggest thing our house has going for it, at least as I thought
when we moved in during a heat wave in the 1-teens, is the pool. Ahh,
this perfect little pool. It's purpose-built for relaxation, and I'm
working on the most beautiful tan I've had in years. Even better, it's
a way to keep us home and relaxing at a time when money is now tight —
it's going to be that way until we can pay off the bills from the move.
But what will I do when the weather cools?
Yard Work
The front yard is a mess. It probably didn't used to be, but it was
when we moved in. Basically, the seller's real estate company didn't
exactly go the extra mile for him — as I understand it, he was a
tough customer. So the same yard that looked decent on our first
showing was completely burned to bits by the time we took posession.
The neighbors have a lawn that looks like a golf course — perfectly
manicured St. Augustine. I can't stand being the
turd in the punch bowl, if you know what I mean. So we had an irrigation
system installed and are having treatments applied. I'm hoping the neighbor's
perfect lawn will creep all the way over to our front walk; that'd
cover the ugly spot that does not benefit from any shade at all.
Size Matters
The house is smaller than my last place was by about 1,000 square
feet. The lack of basements here is saddening, because that's a
storage area we now don't have. We're having to downsize a bit. We're
using the garage for some storage temporarily. As the weather continues
to cool, we'll move stuff up into the attic as we can. And speaking
of cool, I think we might be able to lighten our load a bit by getting
rid of much of the winter clothing we have — I'm talking about the
stuff designed for Wisconsin winters, not clothing we could probably
use here.
|