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Hunting Trip Stress
Vegans and hippies won’t enjoy this post.
Friday, I went to a cabin in the woods for a weekend hunting trip with my dad, my brother, and a few other people.
My wife didn’t think it’s a good idea. In fact, she was terrified that I’d walk into the woods and come out in a body bag.
Statistically, it’s safe. Out of 12.5 million hunters, there are only around 100 fatal hunting accidents every year. I think I went hunting for the first time when I was 12, and continued to do so until I was 17, then life started interfering.
That doesn’t matter. By definition phobias aren’t rational. She’s worried and stressing hard.
If she’s had such a hard time with it, why did I go?
First, I asked her six months ago if she’d be all right with the trip. I knew she had some phobias, and have–in fact–tried to make the trip before. Six months ago, she said yes. It was a bit late to back out after I’ve committed to a share of the cabin, bought the bright orange gear, and agreed to drive my brother.
The second reason was more important.
This is one of the few things my dad and I both enjoy. I’m a geek, he’s not. I dig horror and sci-fi, he’s into westerns.
But we both enjoy hunting. The first time he treated me like an adult was the first year we went hunting together, 15 years ago.
My dad taught me to be the man I am. Without him, I have no idea who I’d be or what I’d be doing. My integrity, my work ethic, and my moral code can all be traced to the things he taught me.
This is my chance to spend time with him and have a good time with no TV or whiny kids interfering.
Trading this for a few days of stress at home is something I’m willing to do.
Becoming a Landlord
For those of you just tuning in, my mother-in-law died in April.
Since then, we’ve spent nearly every available moment at our inherited house, digging out and cleaning up.
My mother-in-law was a compulsive hoarder. I’m not going to get into the details of her compulsion, but we have–so far–filled a 30 yard dumpster. For perspective, that’s big enough to fit our Ford F150.
Now that the house is approaching the point where we can begin updating and remodeling, I’ve been looking into the requirements to rent it out.
In my city, I need to get a business license that costs $95 per year. This comes with a requirement to allow the city to inspect the property every two years.
Before they will issue the license, I have to take an 8 hour Minnesota Crime Free Multi-Housing Program class that covers tenant screening, lease addendum, evictions, and “etcetera”, followed by a physical audit of the property to ensure minimum security standards.
The lease addendum basically reads “If you are loud, obnoxious, threatening, criminal, intimidating, or doing/dealing drugs, you will be evicted.”
The actual costs to become a landlord are going to be:
- Something under $100 for my wife and I to take the landlord class. The price varies from free to $40, depending on the hosting city.
- $95 per year for the privilege of using our private property to conduct a private transaction with a private individual.
- The remodel. I don’t know what this is going to cost, yet. There’s an unfinished bathroom in the unfinished basement. I’d like to finish both of those, though the basement will never hold a 3rd bedroom, due to code. The entire house need to be painted and have the trim replaced. The dining room and hallway have hardwood floors, hiding under linoleum that was never properly put down. We may need new windows.
If possible, I’d like to keep the project under $20,000. Since we’re not adding a 3rd bedroom, or tearing out the kitchen cabinets, it should be possible.
In the meantime, expect to see a bunch of remodeling and renting related posts coming up.
Emergency Fund Goodness, Reasons #491,207 and #491,208
When you run a big company that handles a lot of one-year renewable contracts with the government at every level from city to federal, you tend to expect that you’ll need to do some legwork on the contract renewals before they expire. Preferably, you’d do this a few weeks before they expire so the bureaucratic mess that is the federal government can process the renewal on their end.
That’s a reasonable expectation after 30 years in the industry.
If, instead, you wait until the expiration date on the contract to submit the renewal to the federal agency in question, you’ll have a department to shut down for a week due to lack of work.
Then, at the end of that week, you’ll be reminded that the wheels of the federal government grind. very. slow.
So slow, in fact, that the department in question gets to stay shut down for at least another 2 weeks.
If you haven’t been doing the math, that is a surprise, unpaid, three-week vacation for my wife.
Our emergency fund hasn’t grown to the size that can handle this, but it is enough to take the edge off for a couple of weeks. Yay!
We’d already decided that we would be skipping a vacation this year, to give us more time to deal with my mother-in-law’s estate and hoarding remnants, so the vacation fund will be tapped. That should cover the rest, assuming her job does come back.
That’s part 1.
Part 2 is the story of a cat whose butt exploded on our bed at 1AM last week.
Poo–the cat named for her coloration–has been acting funny. She’d suddenly sprint in a circle around the room, then poop on the floor. Irritating.
One night, her sprint crossed our bed, so my wife pinned her down, hoping to break the cycle.
The cat screamed, then sprayed blood from her butt all over the pillows, blankets, sheets, and my wife.
That’s called a midnight visit to the emergency vet.
See, cats have anal glands that they use to sign their work when they are marking their territory. Sometimes, these glands get infected. Sometimes, the infection gets so bad the glands kind of…explode.
On my bed.
While I’m sleeping.
Pop.
Fixing that involves sedation, an ice cream scoop, and a sewing kit. Or something. I wasn’t really pushing for details when my wife called from the vet’s office.
For those of you who’ve never had a cat’s butt explode in your bed at one in the morning (and if you have, I’m not sure I want to hear the story), the emergency vet isn’t cheap. This visit cost us $500. It probably would have been half of that if we would have waited until the regular vet opened, but…ewww.
We’ll be starting our emergency fund from about 0 in the next few weeks, but it beats going in to debt over a couple of setbacks.
How’s your emergency fund? Is it enough to carry you through any unexpected setback?
Charity
Charitable giving is down. Predictions have been that donations would be up this year, but the reality appears to be otherwise.
I have an admittedly low sample size; I don’t talk to many charities and the 2012 donation amounts aren’t out, yet. The one I do have access to says that donations this year are among the lowest in memory.
As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve been a bit busy cleaning out a hoader’s house. Last weekend, we tackled one of the stashes of toiletries. We came out with several cases of soap, shampoo, blankets, towels, and sleeping pads.
For the right charity, an unopened case of bar soap is better than gold.
When our new-found treasures were delivered to Mary’s Place, I’m told the nuns wept. Mary’s Place is a transitional housing complex attached to a homeless shelter. They were totally and completely out of hygiene products for the residents.
Something that means nothing to me meant the world to someone else. I was just looking for a useful place to dump the stuff we can’t use or don’t want to store, and I made a nun cry.*
People need so much, and so much of what they need is trivial to my family. A blanket? A bar of soap? That’s nothing…to me.
As we go through the rest of the stuff, our focus will be different. Instead of, “Can we sell this at a garage sale, or should we donate it?”, it’s going to be “Can someone get more value out of this than we’ll get by selling it?” We can sell a comforter for $5, or give it to someone who needs to stay warm in the winter.
I’ll forgo $5 for that warm fuzzy feeling.
*Check one off the bucket list.
Expensive Cheese
Saturday morning, I woke up to a room-temperature refrigerator. I dislike drinking milk that’s 40 degrees warmer than I’m used to.
We called the repairman who showed up at 9PM and poked around in the fridge for a bit before announcing that he didn’t have the needed parts in his truck.
The parts came Monday. The next repairman got there Tuesday afternoon. For those of you keeping track at home, that’s nearly 4 days without a refrigerator.
That poor bacon.
Tuesday’s repairman didn’t think highly of Saturday’s. Apparently, the two parts Saturday ordered never go bad at the same time, so he was guessing.
He also didn’t notice the slice of individually wrapped American cheese that had slipped between a shelf and one of the cold-air vents, preventing any air flow at all.
Grr.
I wish I would have noticed that on Saturday. I now own the most expensive cheese in the world. It’s not Pule, which comes in at $616 per pound. This lowly slice of American cheese cost me nearly $200. At one ounce per slice, that’s $3200 per pound. Of course, I’m counting the lost food. My hamburger, eggs, bacon, milk, and mayonnaise are gone, along with every other perishable bit of food we had on hand.
I don’t know how much the repairs cost. Saturday’s visit, minus the parts, was billed at $95. I didn’t see the total for Tuesday’s visit.
We pay for a repair plan through our gas company. For around $15 per month, we get a list of appliances protected. We don’t have to worry about our washer, dryer, water softener, stove, refrigerator, or our sewer main. Assuming Tuesday’s visit was billed the same as Saturday’s, this one repair paid for the plan for an entire year. When you count our sewer main–which backs up with tree roots once a year and costs at least $200 to fix–the repair plan is definitely worth it for us.
When we get tenants in my mother-in-law’s house, we’ll have the repair plan set up there, too.
Do you use any kind of repair plan? How is it working out for you?
