Here Comes Another One

D'you remember that Monty Python skit, where whacky things keep happening (wait - that's every Monty Python skit...) and in the background someone sings, "Heeeeere cooooomes aaaaaaanother ooooooone!"? Sometimes I hear that jingle as the underscore of my life. Just when I think that the sea is dead flat calm suddenly another wave rolls in and tries to capsize me.

Ok - it was a difficult process just to buy Home Farm. The banks didn't want to give us a loan because A)we had no down payment, B) the property is too small to be classified and mortgaged as a FARM, C) the property is too big to be classified and mortgaged as RESIDENTIAL (so that makes it.... what? Part of the Emerald City? Obviously, since we're not in Kansas anymore.) We had a handful of banks and even a mortgage broker turn us down as clients. We were ready to throw in the towel and accept that this property was not part of God's will for us, but some godly folks that we trust encouraged us to hang in there and keep trying, and at long last Alberta Treasury Branch decided to finance us, and here we are! Yay Home Farm! Yay ATB! Hurrah! Now everything will run smoothly!

Heeeeere cooooooomes aaaaaaanother ooooone!

Last week I opened an envelope addressed to OtherHalf and I, from the county of Athabasca. I thought: tax time already? That was fast! Nope. I never could've imagined this one:

....it has come to our attention...extensive renovations done...previous owners....no building permit....

WHAT??!
Oh boy. Turns out the previous owners of our farm did some major renovations to the house (well, we could see that. One can tell where the original house was, and where the new work was added on. And where old bits were removed. To be exact, our dining room, living room and mud room are all new additions.) However, it just so happens that the brilliant, honest fellow that did all this work neglected to pull building permits beforehand, and neglected to have his work inspected. Huh. And, according to the County, since we are the owners now, we are responsible. That's how democracy works, don't ya know. Doesn't matter if we haven't even owned the property for a year. Doesn't matter that we had no idea. Doesn't matter that Comrade County has record of this situation from 2008 and didn't pursue the matter until now.

The rest of my conversation with the Building Coordinatior for Development and Blahdeblahblah is a bit of a blur. A bunch of numbers scribbled down... plumbing permit - $300... cost to inspect - $0.39 a square foot (I lost track here as I slowly spun in circles trying to figure out how many square feet of new house there was, then got sidetracked wondering how did a family grow up in here withOUT the new additions? Where did they put their table? Couches? Little sister?).... come in at your earliest convenience (convenience? Oh yeah, this is all very convenient. Lovely.)... resolve the matter...

I'll tell ya what I'd like to resolve. Oh boy I'd like to get my hands on the previous owner. Does this not fall under the "non-disclosure" clause? I thought back to OtherHalf and I, young and early in our marriage, with two toddlers, removing the scraps of asbestos from our first home when we were ready to sell it because we couldn't, in good conscience, sell a house with a few feet of asbestos lining the heating ducts. It amounted to a couple of garbage bags. And now, in the ultimate fairness of life we are the proud owners of an illegally expanded house and we're looking at some major expense to set things right. Did the previous owner not know he had no permits? Not realize he was required to obtain permits? Did he think no-one would ever notice that the house magically doubled in size and grew siding and a covered deck? Or was he hoping to high-tail it outta here before someone insisted on inspecting his handywork? I just don't know - was it lazyness, forgetfulness, crookedness or downright mental impairment? Well, judging by his finished work, I'm leaning toward mental...

And herein lies the rub. The rubbier part of the rub, anyway. All of this tends to chafe a bit.
OtherHalf, who worked in construction and framing way back when, and built several new structures at our last job (see www.bluelakeadventures.blogspot.com), who endlessly researches the right way to do things, who is affectionately known as Legal Beagle and even stops at railway crossings on back roads... he wonders how these renovations are going to hold up under scrutiny. I mean, I suspect they barely hold up under snow. We knew that the floor was a little uneven when we moved in, but now that we have "before and after" pictures (graciously emailed by our friendly neighbourhood County) we see that the entire mound of dirt supporting the additions was pushed up here by hand. So, how much has it settled? How much more will it settle? And what kind of foundation is actually under these new rooms? OtherHalf is pretty sure that building inspectors don't really like to see homemade dirt mounds supporting dwellings. Now I hear: "The foolish man built his house upon the sand....and the house on the sand went SPLAT!" Sounds cute when Sunday School kids are singing it. Sounds ominous when it's referring to my living room.
And, the roof trusses (which we'd hoped to save up and replace, later. Much later.) are homemade as well. At least, they have no stamp of engineered trusses. I'm guessing that's a no-no.
So, besides the expense of the permits and the inspections, we will be held responsible for the costs of making the work meet inspection requirements. Awesome.

Ok, we have Title Insurance. According to our lawyer (everyone can trust a lawyer, right?) our Title Insurance is supposed to cover this very thing. So our insurance company is looking into it. (And everyone can trust an insurance company, right?)

In case any of you hadn't noticed, I tend to have an active imagination. Over the past few days my imagination has swung wildly between the different possible outcomes of this situation. We have:

1)Best Case Scenario - in which the insurance company agrees to cover all expenses, the building inspector condemns the house, and the insurance builds us a brand-new house all for free! The rest of this day was lost as I planned my Dream Home, and considered how we could convince a contractor to build us a straw-bale house.

2)The middle of the night reminded me of the antagonist of Scenario #1 - in which the building inspector condemns the house but the insurance company refuses to pay up and we are homeless. Well... been there, done that, and I still have my holiday trailer so I guess we would cope. At the very least, I'd probably get my straw bale house that way.

3) In reality the other scenarios are all combinations of #1 and #2, with various bits of construction requiring repair, and various amounts of coverage being provided.

We had a teacher in college who, when talking about Armageddon and the rapture of Christians advised "Pray for 'Pre', prepare for 'Post'." So, hope for scenario #1, prepare for #2. For example, perhaps I should post-phone replacing my crock pot until we find out if this is gonna cost us a bunch of money. On the other hand, how much would $39.95 really make a difference?

A few people that we've talked to about this have had pretty major reactions - and then they marvel that OtherHalf and I are relatively calm about the whole thing. Of course, they weren't around when we first found out - they missed our initial reactions. We joke that we've already progressed through the first stages of mourning, and we're on to the "acceptance and resignation" step. In those first few hours before I could vent to anyone, while I waited for OtherHalf to come home from work, I paced and fumed and wanted to seek vengeance on everyone - anyone - the previous owner for hiding this... the County for neglecting this.... the tattle-tail that "brought this to our attention" at the County... the lawyer for not discovering this before we signed all the papers... us for being naive and gullible...
But what good would any of it do? I thought of Job: "Shall we accept good from the Lord and not evil? The Lord gives and He takes away, blessed be the name of the Lord." Indeed. My God is big enough to take care of this, too. And think - think it through. Sure, it sucks that this is all happening in March, a month notorious for depression and despair. Sure, it's happening at the same time as our wells are running dry (that's literal, not figurative. OtherHalf has been mending and fiddling and replacing pumps and things for weeks, trying to keep the water flowing into the house) (in our uninspected plumbing). But isn't it better to find out now, when it's been less than a year since purchase, when we still have a fighting chance of recovering at least some of the costs from the previous owners? And, one way or another, I'll be getting some renovations done. We highly doubt that our roof is going to pass inspection, so someone will be fixing it. We'd rather not have to pay for that this year, but if we do, well, it's an investment. And, we're getting this sorted out right at the very beginning of spring, so if work has to be done we have the entire summer stretching ahead to do it in, and we can live quite comfortably for the summer in our holiday trailer if we have to. If the roof is pried off the house like a bottle top. 'Cause that would let in quite a draft.

God is good, and life goes on. Sure sure, life's a stage. I would prefer a little less drama, though.
I'll keep you posted.