Homeownership...

I don't believe either one of us ever expected to be homeowners, but somehow we've pulled it off. In a meeting today with the Louisiana Housing Finance Agency there was an on going debate about affordable housing and whether municipalities should focus on building new houses for low-income families or rebuild blighted properties. Obviously we have chosen the later (Greg and myself, not the government) but the discussion got me thinking. Its really practically a miracle that we managed to buy a house in "this economy" and in this city. Did you know that banks are NOT lending to anyone with a credit score under 620? This might seem acceptable in any other part of the country, but in southern Louisiana we have several factors limiting the population of credit scorers above 600. Just to name a few...

1. utilities in New Orleans continued to run after Hurricane Katrina even though the city was shut down and in fact electricity was not being used, but meters continued to run, bills continue to collect debt and credit scores plummeted. And this strictly when considering the utility bills. Consider paying your mortgage on a house you can't live in, therefore you must pay rent somewhere else. Needless to say we have a large foreclosure rate.
2. The obvious... recession!
3. failure of the gas and oil industry = death of the fishery industry, tourism industry, etc. These direct job losses will be coupled with indirect job loss as well. Not too mention that a large number of fishery and tourism 'employees' are paid in cash and do not pay taxes. Which means... no credit score.

Back to my point.. its a miracle we pulled this off. During the same discussion regarding credit scores one participant in particular was quite worked up about a financing concept he had which could assist home buyers with poor credit scores. The board talked in circles with this man and eventually they had to agree to disagree, but throughout the conversation many members of the board emphasized that some people are just not ready to be homeowners. They don't have the credit score, the cash flow or the capacity to manage not only the maintenance of the structure, but the loan process itself. At that point I wanted to jump up and scream ARE YOU ALL CRAZY!!! Of course a huge percentage of the Louisiana population is not in a position to buy a house! Greg and I have master's degrees (more than one) and we were still confused! There are housing advocates pushing people to be homeowners who have less than a high school education! Its not that they cant maintain the house... its the rest of it! The documentation, the insurance, the taxes, the bills, the paperwork for days. I mean they could probably buy a house and have no idea what documents they signed... but how is that a solution to providing affordable housing? The more amazing thing is there were suggestions that affordable housing for low-income families should cost approximately what we are paying for our house. And no matter how poor Greg and I sometimes feel... we are not living below the poverty line nor do we qualify for low-income housing and yet we could not reasonably afford anymore than we bought.

That said... I am amazed we own a home. I'm amazed the price dropped twice (a. the house didn't appraise so the seller dropped $7,000 off the price and b. for some reason the mortgage broker dropped his fees by $1200 at the last minute) making it even more affordable for us. And now we own a big beautiful money pit with no walls (well there are a few plaster walls we are saving), no electricity and no plumbing.

Saturday we had our first house guest, Elizabeth came by with her puppies to see the house in its original form. Greg got to use his new weed eater to cut down the forest growing in our backyard. And we took a tour of the neighbors house which is being ever so slowly remodeled, but its beautiful with marble front steps... and I think it might be for sale soon. So if you wanna be our neighbors... won't you be our neighbors.

Still on our Corner...

Although we certainly had good intentions to walk way from our corner once and for all... we were held back by numerous events that in end led to staying in our current home. The house at the corner of Erato. As some of you may know... and others may not, this is the second time we tried to leave. But we just keep ending up back here on our corner. This time being stuck again was made easier by the knowledge that it is a truly temporary situation this time around. Why do you ask...? Well, because if it all goes according to plan we will close on our first house on September 17th.

This project is much larger than our last attempt at home ownership and for that reason alone it will probably all work out leaving us with the biggest challenge Greg and I have faced together... home renovation! With our limited funds we had a difficult time finding a house we like, within the price range and without major problems. So in the end we went with a house with no hidden problems (a key aspect of house shopping in post-Katrina New Orleans) because all the problems are really quite evident... as you can see below. Even with all its blatant issues... it is the house of our dreams and Greg and I cannot wait for it to be all ours.

We have dreamt of a side hall ever since we fell in love with 1469 N Prieur (our first contracted house which we lost to structural damage). But we never dreamed we would find one completely intact and not altered (ie. not enclosed). Due to Greg's childhood lawn mowing career with his dad he fell in love with the backyard at first site (I could live without mowing, but Greg can't wait). That said its a truly unique situation known in New Orleans as a key lot in which our backyard is as wide as our house and stretches behind the neighbors house making our lot L-shaped and huge! The neighborhood leaves something to be desired, but we do have a community garden, art installations including the Prospect One Safe house and Greg's favorite fried chicken... Brother's! In the future a Street Car will run four blocks from the house and St Roch Market (only a few blocks away) will be an Organic Co-op. These projects may take 5-10 years but with a planner in the neighborhood (yours truly) maybe we will see them to fruition.

The exterior of the house is in pretty good shape. The roof is new and the walls recently painted. Structurally the house is in good shape. The interior has been gutted from the picture molding up to the ceiling. We are going to save as many plaster walls as we can. There are original wood floors, trim work, doors and transoms. Every window and exterior door has screens (but we have to install them). We are putting a small apartment in the back and we will live in the front four rooms. The house is SEVEN rooms LONG. Its obviously a traditional New Orleans shotgun, but its unique because its a Three-Bay or Sid Hall.

So again everyone send us all the good house vibes you can... we are about to start the FHA-203k loan process which can be gruesome. Thank you bureaucracy but a federally backed loan with low interests and low down payments is the only way to go.

Front:
Back:Backyard:Sidehall:

Living Room:

Oh how Time disappears...

In a short two weeks, Rosie and I will be moving from the corner of Erato. We may need a new blog. More to come.

Tomatoes!!!!

The garden strikes again. After two days of rain, today the garden looks gorgeous! We have three jalapeno peppers, heaps of green beans and our first cherry tomato!

I'm so proud! Everything is getting huge! The tomato plants are almost as tall as the fence. When we got them they were no more than 6inches tall. I will take some more pictures of the garden so you can see the before and after pictures... coming soon!

Children of the Corn

Greg is a child of the Corn... being from the Midwest that is, and I am quickly becoming a child of the corn in that I am growing sweet corn in the back yard. To be exact we have corn, green beans, and cucumbers all grown from seed, a multitude of herbs and the lettuce seeds went in the ground yesterday. We also have two huge tomato plants. Incredibly these plants started as very small shrubs but continue to reach for the sky at such a pace that every weekend when we have time to soak in our hard work we are shocked at the size of these two plants (one Creole and the other Cherry). And the amazing number of little green tomatoes, soon to be red I hope!

Our garden has become the apple of our eyes... although we have no apple trees... yet. We eat most of our meals on the patio, morning, day and night, and watch over it with great joy and pride. This weekend our garden was a giving garden, yielding the perfect backdrop for Greg's birthday party and 20 green beans (our first homegrown nourishment outside the multiple herbs we use to flavor our epicurean lives and delicacies). I found 13 on Saturday (pictured below) and 7 more today.

Outside of gardening we, like most of the South, are eating our fair share of seafood before the earl (oil) ruins the season, possibly for years to come. We are in the middle of crawfish season and the thought of cutting it short or losing it for years is horrible. Watching the oil explosion (which can hardly be described as a spill at this point) fill up the gulf is as depressing as watching the water fill up New Orleans. At this point its still hard to grasp... so we are left grasping crawfish... thankful for the luxuries still allowed.The best things about New Orleans in the springtime... festival season, crawfish season and my favorite... Abita strawberry beer!
Outside of generally enjoying the outdoors before the heat of the summer hits, Greg continues to excel as a musician, playing at the world famous Jazz Fest a couple of weeks ago. He finished his first semester with flying colors. I have settled into not having a thesis hanging over my head and have begun looking for new projects to occupy my time...Thats all we'll say for now.

Go to the Mattresses...

Two reasons we have not updated recently...
Go to the mattresses... to prepare for battle.

Everyday Greg has a different battle... hence Graduate School. But I am preparing for the end of my little battles.. I am preparing for the final war. The War on Thesis Defense. I'm now in the final weeks of thesis editing, formatting and reviewing. The end is finally nigh. And frankly I do not know how I will spend all my free time when my thesis is no longer hovering over my head at all times... I have one idea in mind...

Go to the mattresses... literally!

The best purchase Greg and I have ever made.. individually or together. Our new beloved... silkeborg!! I intend to spend a good amount of time catching up on lost sleep in the most wonderful bed in the world!!!

It made its way from Indianapolis as a poor reject with last years fabric coverings... the only ones we had ever seen and loved all along. I guess next years model will be new and improved, but for us... our silkeborg is the dreamiest mattress we never thought we would ever have/afford. Even now... we lay on our silkeborg in wonder and disbelief. We owe many many a thanks to the coolest family in Illinois! Aw heck.. the world!

I'm just happy our post-Mardi Gras mattress parade made it all in one peice. We've run out of friends with trucks. So after getting kicked out of a famous resturant (long story and beside the point) we used a Honda and a Hyundai to move our new mattresses from Uptown to Downtown... threw the old ones to the curb (which didn't stay there long... bums), watched Greg throw up a 4month old beer that he confused with his current beer (I found the old one under the old bed and moved it so it wouldn't get knocked over... never thinking someone would pick it up and drink it!!! all of it!!!), and laid down for the first time on our mattress thinking we would never forget the night we got our silkeborg.

Black & Gold Win the Super Bowl

It happened, folks. Believe dat!

It was pandemonium in the streets of New Orleans last night. Spontaneous second lines, enormous crowds of joyous people, exuberance on every face. Rosie & I wandered from a party on Coliseum Square down to Canal Street, with a mind to get Rosie on to Bourbon Street for the first time ever. Crossing Coliseum Park, we encountered the first of the second lines we would see last night. The percussionists of Casa Samba marched past the International School as I stood on the sidewalk, blowing my trumpet to their rhythms. Soon enough, I joined their parade for a few blocks, improvising over a few choruses of everyone's favorite, "When the Saints Go Marching In".

Making our way downtown, we couldn't help but make a pit stop at Circle Bar, for refreshments. We ran into Indira & Jason, Caroline, Brian, and probably at least a few other people, all celebrating our Saints! Also hanging out underneath the overpass as I trumpeted a few more strains of "Saints" to passing traffic were Antoinette and her sister, Jasmine, and a few young ones running with them. That's what Circle Bar is good for...you're guaranteed to run into half of the everyone you know!

Push onward to Poydras Street, where passing cars (they weren't really passing all that fast since traffic wasn't moving) noticed the horn player on the side of the street and began tipping me! The best thing I remember from that intersection were two young kids in the back seat of a station wagon who danced up a storm as I pealed out another chorus of "Saints". By the way, "Saints" does not have the distinction of being the only song I played last night...I did play "My Bucket's Got a Hole in It" to the assembled population of Bridge House. Seemed fitting!

Seizing upon the idea of reimbursing ourselves for the evening's expenses, I pulled my trumpet back out and opened my case on several corners around and along Canal Street. In the middle of all the celebration, a gang of New Orleans police officers drove along the neutral ground in one of these:

As the officers unloaded themselves and their assorted gear from their disgustingly militaristic vehicle, I continued playing "Saints" to the obvious delight of everyone around me. I didn't even have my case out at this point since there was little chance of it surviving on the ground, so many people had gathered. After playing a few more choruses, one of the officers came up to me and informed me that I was causing a scene and that I had to stop playing or move along. He said the assembled officers were "getting ready to stage an operation at this location" and that my trumpet playing was causing too much attention to be drawn to them. I inquired what type of operation they were planning, and questioned his assertion that I, little old me, was the one causing the scene. It wasn't the fact that the Saints just won the Super Bowl that had everyone gathered on Canal Street last night. It was me, one guy playing "When the Saints Go Marching In" with tired lips. The officer was having none of it, insisting that the police operation took precedence over anything anyone else had to say and that I could move or that he would move me. Knowing that your average police officer has no tolerance for a citizen who actually asserts his rights, and fearing the collective wrath of this particular goon and his friends, I shuffled meekly across the street, where I played as loudly as I could right back to the police. Rosie, God Bless Her, did not believe this to be the just outcome of the situation, and marched directly up to the police captain in charge of the "operation" and questioned him as to the propriety of the orders given me moments earlier. The captain told her whoever wanted to play any instrument was more than welcome. So that's when I marched myself right back over to the forces of evil and blew my trumpet proudly.

The night did not end there, friends, for your hero and heroine had empty bellies. Imagine our luck, too, for we stood a mere block away from Brothers Fried Chicken, the best, cheapest,

greasiest fried chicken I know. I, for one, was fighting a full bladder and a headache from belting out so many choruses of "Saints". That place was so crowded we had to stand in line to even get into the store. The guys working didn't slow up one bit, though. We were in and out of there in 10 minutes, spending only $9 of the $30 I made playing to walk out of their with the most delicious 8 pieces of dark meat you could dream of. Popeye's eat your heart out!

As a nice postscript to this monstrous blog post, I want to tell you how peaceful it was this morning along St. Charles and in the Lower Garden District. Rosie and I walked back to

Coliseum Square to retrieve the car we left last night in our excitement to get downtown. We bought a special Super Bowl edition Times-Picayune at the corner of St. Charles and Melpomene Street. Funny, the vendor suggested we buy as many copies as possible because he promised they would be going for $20 each on e-Bay. We'll see about that.

Anyway, though, it's done. Our New Orleans Saints won the Super Bowl, beating the Indianapolis Colts 31-17. The night before, we elected Mitch Landrieu mayor with an astonishing 66% of the vote. Landrieu won We have a new mayor-elect with the mandate of every single neighborhood in the city (save one). Since I didn't vote this time around, the only way I know to close this blog is to say, "Who Dat?!"

...We Dat!