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Went over to Nanny and Granddaddy's house today. Most of their stuff is either gone or packed up in boxes.
Pictures are off the walls and stacked up in piles, in the expectation that either my uncle or me will want them (and we do, in some cases).
All their decent clothes are gone, donated to the Salvation Army.
Some of the furniture is gone, having been given to people who expressed a desire to have it.
I have Nanny's favorite skillet, her two wooden spoons (older than my mother), an old manual egg beater with a wooden handle, and her rolling pin.
I'll be taking their George Foreman thingy (it's so greasy, I might pass once I get where I can get a good look at it; Granddaddy never thoroughly cleaned it), Nanny's old upright mixer (vintage ca. 1950s), a couple of end- or bed-side tables, the antique dresser and chest from their master bedroom suite, and an ancient, small kitchen bin that was once used to store potatoes. It has been used as a plant stand for the last 20 years or so.
I will also have a collector edition liquor bottle shaped like a vintage phone (think Green Acres), another shaped like a coffee grinder, and a collectors-edition rifle that belonged to my father. It has a golden trigger.
My mother bought Nanny a rocking chair when I was born because every grandmother should have a rocking chair to rock her grandchild when they visit. I may be taking that, as well. I may also take one of their recliners. It plugs in and massages and heats. :) If I take either one, they must be re-upholstered, for various reasons. (The Fugly™ being the major one.)
And, of course, the grandmother clock.
I'm gonna need a bigger truck.
We have about six months before everything has to be out of the house. So we're not in an enormous hurry. Or, at least, I'm not. My mother may be another story. :)
Uncle Darrell doesn't have enough room for any of it. All he wants is a pistol Granddaddy got in the 30s that is quite a collector's item and a couple of pictures.
My mother has already gotten most of what she wants.
It was weird seeing their house "empty." It feels...creepy. And I can't quite get over the urge to apologize to someone for taking their stuff.
I'll also get a wire from my mother's bank with my share of their estate. Plus $3000 or so for taking care of the cats.
And that'll be pretty much it until their house sells.
And guys, I can't stress this enough: no matter how old you are or what you think your life expectancy might be, make sure that you make it easy for whomever might be left behind to get at your finances and such. Granddaddy did for the most part, and it's been surprisingly easy. He did, however, forget to do anything with the deed to the house (he left it to Nanny and she left it to him), so we have a six-month legal tangle to go through before we can sell it. Unless someone offers us cash and doesn't want a mortgage.
Um...does that ring alarm bells for anyone other than me? Yeah. I don't think the neighbors would appreciate us selling the house to a drug dealer. (The neighbors did apparently express their preference that we not sell the house to the Ay-rabs. <eye roll> Ah, small town racism.)
We will soon be embarking on an expedition to Tuscaloosa for my birthday dinner. Probably at Outback, but I'm still considering The Cypress Inn, as well. None of us is hungry, yet. :)
Pictures are off the walls and stacked up in piles, in the expectation that either my uncle or me will want them (and we do, in some cases).
All their decent clothes are gone, donated to the Salvation Army.
Some of the furniture is gone, having been given to people who expressed a desire to have it.
I have Nanny's favorite skillet, her two wooden spoons (older than my mother), an old manual egg beater with a wooden handle, and her rolling pin.
I'll be taking their George Foreman thingy (it's so greasy, I might pass once I get where I can get a good look at it; Granddaddy never thoroughly cleaned it), Nanny's old upright mixer (vintage ca. 1950s), a couple of end- or bed-side tables, the antique dresser and chest from their master bedroom suite, and an ancient, small kitchen bin that was once used to store potatoes. It has been used as a plant stand for the last 20 years or so.
I will also have a collector edition liquor bottle shaped like a vintage phone (think Green Acres), another shaped like a coffee grinder, and a collectors-edition rifle that belonged to my father. It has a golden trigger.
My mother bought Nanny a rocking chair when I was born because every grandmother should have a rocking chair to rock her grandchild when they visit. I may be taking that, as well. I may also take one of their recliners. It plugs in and massages and heats. :) If I take either one, they must be re-upholstered, for various reasons. (The Fugly™ being the major one.)
And, of course, the grandmother clock.
I'm gonna need a bigger truck.
We have about six months before everything has to be out of the house. So we're not in an enormous hurry. Or, at least, I'm not. My mother may be another story. :)
Uncle Darrell doesn't have enough room for any of it. All he wants is a pistol Granddaddy got in the 30s that is quite a collector's item and a couple of pictures.
My mother has already gotten most of what she wants.
It was weird seeing their house "empty." It feels...creepy. And I can't quite get over the urge to apologize to someone for taking their stuff.
I'll also get a wire from my mother's bank with my share of their estate. Plus $3000 or so for taking care of the cats.
And that'll be pretty much it until their house sells.
And guys, I can't stress this enough: no matter how old you are or what you think your life expectancy might be, make sure that you make it easy for whomever might be left behind to get at your finances and such. Granddaddy did for the most part, and it's been surprisingly easy. He did, however, forget to do anything with the deed to the house (he left it to Nanny and she left it to him), so we have a six-month legal tangle to go through before we can sell it. Unless someone offers us cash and doesn't want a mortgage.
Um...does that ring alarm bells for anyone other than me? Yeah. I don't think the neighbors would appreciate us selling the house to a drug dealer. (The neighbors did apparently express their preference that we not sell the house to the Ay-rabs. <eye roll> Ah, small town racism.)
We will soon be embarking on an expedition to Tuscaloosa for my birthday dinner. Probably at Outback, but I'm still considering The Cypress Inn, as well. None of us is hungry, yet. :)
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Or so I hear through scuttlebutt.
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I am boggling a little over the idea of a recliner that PLUGS IN. Please do not tell my father.
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I think if Ahmed had any sort of proof and contacted the Realtor's Association (or whatever their professional organization is called), the Realtor who told him that could find herself in a lot of trouble.
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