Kelly and Janet looked at a bunch of houses in West Palmdale and narrowed it down to two. So I left work and looked at the two. They were okay. Well, the one had a lousy living room with no feng shui, but the other one was okay.

But one of the ones they had scrubbed off the list was the first house in the AV to make me think, "that's how I want to live!!"
 
Back yards here suck. Most are peered down on by neighbor's second stories. Many are completely un-landscaped and turn to muddy clay in the rain. Some have crappy wood fences that are falling apart. The listing photo for the Elizabeth Lake Road house showed a great, wooded but small back yard that looked like an oasis in the desert. So I asked to see it even though Kelly had nixed it.



It is right at the entrance to the development, so it is a former model home for this developer. Model homes are there for potential buyers  to view until all the plots are sold, then the models get sold last.

I know most people know what a model home is, but I had never seen one until leaving Upstate New York: because of the startling lack of economic growth over the last half century (due to criminally corrupt state government, being taxed to subsidize NYC, and welfare so generous it draws people from all over the US and Mexico), we haven't seen many houses being built. Certainly never in enough numbers to have model homes.

What I like about this model home is that they put all the upgrades into the outside of the house. Usually models have tile floors everywhere and granite counter tops everywhere, but this place has a brick in-layed driveway and entrance walk, and a great piece of patio in the back, as well as great landscaping and mature trees and shrubs. 

There is one downside to this place. The woman who lived here before died of cancer in the house. By law they have to disclose that to us. It's very sad, but really doesn't bother me. But the house may be having trouble selling because her presence can still be felt there. 



Kelly and Janet made up the life story of the owners of this place and it's very touching. I'll paraphrase.   

I'll call them John and Iris. They were in their late seventies. They weren't rich, but somewhat frugal and very hard working. They sold their humble house in Burbank in the early '90s for more money than either of them could believe, because they bought it for "only $6,000" back in 1953. John always puts mental quotes around "only $6,000" when he tells this story because he remembers how much money that was then and how many hours of overtime it took to pay that mortgage.

In 1992, John convinced Iris that they could trade "way up" if they sold the house they raised the kids in and move to the Antelope Valley. It's not any farther from San Diego where their son Ronnie and his family were and about the same distance from Las Vegas, where their daughter Darcy lives.

They bought the place in Palmdale, which was bigger and nicer than anything either of them had ever imagined they would live in. 

They nearly paid for the place outright with the money from the Burbank home sale, and John's crane operator's retirement and their combined Social Security more than paid the rest of the bills.

John liked to garden and set about doing it with gusto. Iris loved to decorate and finally, having the rooms and natural light to do so, decorated with gusto. They had 14 wonderful years in the house, entertaining friends on the patio, and welcoming grandchildren as toddlers, kids, 'tweens, and teens. They hosted Thanksgivings (except for the one Darcy insisted on having at her condo in Las Vegas, but they all try to forget that one) and all Christmas dinners in that house.

Then the sickness came. It took Iris in only six months. After that, John just couldn't be there anymore. The house was just too big for an old widower and too full of Iris for him to be there alone. He moved into a condo by the golf course and put the house up on the market.

So, it's with this much imagined affection for these people that I regretfully have say that Iris really lacked taste. I know that taste is subjective, but not when it comes to Iris' wall paper. I think it must have been custom printed, because it hurts my faith in people to think that this stuff could have had enough mass appeal to be produced and distributed normally.  

I know that the wall paper is Kelly's entire problem with the house. To say that it's vertigo-inducing, is to forget the second of the four bedrooms, which causes epileptic seizures.  I really can't overstate how bad this wall paper is. But it's wall paper...

John, however, had impeccable taste.







It's the dead of winter here and Kelly and I both mentioned early today that we are starving to see some green.  But John chose for this back yard oasis plants that are alive and well in this otherwise olive drab month.



You can tell by Kelly's body language that she's not feeling it the way I am. I really hope that we get in sync on this one.