Class IV Designs

Our home renovation posts came to an abrupt halt.

This wasn’t by accident.

We knew we were flying a little close to the sun…but the truth is, circumstance demanded it.

Our posts came to an abrupt halt when we learned that our crates were not late, but rather every single crate we shipped from Germany containing every belonging we own came covered in mold. Both the exterior, and the interior.

We’ve seen it with our own eyes.

It was at this point we felt we had run as fast as we could, as hard as we could, head first into a brick wall.

To make matters more intense, we came to learn that our insurance doesn’t cover mold (to any military families reading this, this is standard insurance practice) and the company the military assigned to our belongings only carries a fraction of the liability necessary to make us whole again.

We’ve spent the last many weeks getting claims involved, contacting lawyers, and fighting to be made whole again while continuing to live out of bags and on an air mattress.

We have many more months to go before we see the belongings that can be saved, and before we see any money to which we are entitled.

Here is the truth about military life this season:

We moved during a high market. We didn’t have a choice.

We wanted to rent but there were none available. We didn’t have a choice.

We bought a house that smelled a lot like p*e. It’s what we could afford. We didn’t have a choice.

We could have stayed in a hotel, but the military only covers 10 days, regardless of circumstance. We didn’t have a choice.

We had contractors move our belongings because they had to go over an ocean. They ruined our stuff and there are very few methods available to us to hold their hand to the fire while we continue to live in an empty house. We didn’t have a choice.

This leads us to the choices we do have.

We have the choice to stay in or get out.

I’d love to tell you that this choice is an easy one, given the fact we have learned repeatedly that the people charged with supporting our service see us merely as dollar signs and nothing more.

I‘d love to throw my hands up in the air and quit, given the amount of hard things we have faced in the military in the last 12 months.

I’d love to write some snarky email reminding the people screwing us over that it’s these very moments we will reference when my husbands drops his papers and someone asks why we are getting out.

I’d love to do it all.

It’s not a wonder people quit when service takes without giving back.

It’s not a wonder why the forces are running a little thin.

It’s no wonder they leave when they have to fight the very people charged with helping them…

Let alone be the first responders to the rest of the world too…

But for the moment, we continue on.

We do so because we love our country.

Because we know most of what the military does is humanitarian work…work that him and I have both seen first hand is very, very important.

Because we believe God has called us to this life, and when it’s no longer our time to serve, we will be called away from it.

Because we know in our hearts, we are a few of the many screws that hold this country together.

Posts will resume soon, for the work has not stopped.

We’ve just needed a minute to gather ourselves in a season that has been one hell of a transition.

Thank God we were still in sledge-hammer mode when we got the news about our belongings. It was truly a saving grace.

All our love, from our house to your home.

Us.

You know how people say, “I prayed to the porcelain gods last night?”

Anyone know if they talk to homeowners too or is it just those sick / heavily intoxicated?

We p*e in one room.
We shower in another.
We wash our hands in the third.

If one of you talks to them, ask them to send me a working toilet, would ya?

This bathroom is now officially in our sights, after we finish demoing the kitchen. It’s the only one that works…and it doesn’t work well (and lives in my creepy basement).

Kitchen is ripped out.
I’m officially sick of insulation being literally everywhere.

Can’t stop. Won’t stop. Mostly because we can’t stop…back to day jobs in t-minus two weeks.

Send prayers, coffee, and a potty. Preferably in that order.

From our madness to your home,

Us.

Day 17: We’ve officially found our least favorite house job, and that is scraping rose bud (similar to popcorn) ceilings.

We’ve spent the last few days repairing and mudding drywall, and the last touch is taking ceiling texture down.

This was a job we tried to contract out, only to find that to do 1,000 square feet was roughly $6,000+. Woof.

So since that wasn’t in the budget, to the window, to the wall we went.

Here’s a rough look at where we are at.

Walls down. Texture down. Long live the open concept.

See you a little later this week for a 21 day update.

From our construction zone to your home,

Us.

Ready to open up? So are we.

And speaking of knocking down walls, a few of you have asked how we pulled off getting a house so fast in this radical market.

The truth is we had to do this big, bold thing where we bought a house from across the ocean, site unseen. Fortunately, this isn’t our first rodeo, so we knew what questions to ask + we had a very flexible team willing to work through the unique needs of veteran home purchasing.

This isn’t the reality for most military families. Right now, there are military families across the country (and greater world) who are struggling to find housing. They are moving in this housing market because they have to, not because they want to. They are sitting on impossibly long waitlists for government houses that there aren’t enough of. They are making offers on houses they can’t win at. They are spending thousands of their own dollars to live in hotels in the interim.

They do this while continuing to serve our country.

We would love to have moved into a house ready for residents. The reality of our situation is that this is what we can afford, and we are lucky to have the knowledge and skills to do the work ourselves. Heck, we are lucky to have a roof at all.

So, while we are over here talking about ‘what’ and ‘how,’ the real question we need to be asking is ‘why.’

Our why is because we need a home that we can afford. Our why is because this for us represents financial opportunity that is otherwise limited in civil service. Our why is because we love to make the places we exist better, knocking down one wall at a time.

May the walls we knock down help people to enter rooms they haven’t previously been invited to.

That starts in the home.

From our house to your home,

Us.