Wreckgate 2010 continues. The deadline for financing has come and gone and the answer from the bank was “mais oui we’ll finance your lovely Wreck with just a few conditions”. A few conditions they say.
Get French life insurance because we don’t accept that silly Canadian insurance that you’ve had for 10 years. We don’t feel like financing your kitchen because your range, fridge and cheap but clever Ikea cabinets and countertops are ‘portable’. Oh and if any unexpected costs crop up during the renovation, you’re on your own with that. Bon courage and we appreciate your business.
What the $#@!* am I supposed to do with that now? One, I’m old and decrepit, literally falling apart at the seams and Neil takes a medication that costs more a year than a Mercedes so applying for new life insurance is not an optimistic undertaking (no pun intended).
B, what do they think I’m going to do? Rip off the countertops and strap them to my back on the next Air Canada flight?
Three, I’ve done enough renovations to know that it would not be unusual to find out mid-project that the house is built on an ancient burial ground requiring a team of voodoo priests to confer on the project to tune of $25,000.
Banks, gotta love ’em. To think it only took them 2 months to come up with this scheme. So for the first time in the whole mortgage-o-rama we have reached the point where we can walk away penalty free. Of course then what? As of May 1 we’re homeless. Slim pickins for rental opportunities here in Semur except for vacation houses that I couldn’t afford now for a week let alone 2 or 3 months.
We could try another bank but this will mean another month or so of deliberation over the proposed project and on May 1 still homeless. We could look for another house that needs less work but not much to choose from. So here I am a giraffe in limbo land.
I have no idea what to do so as my mother and her mother before her always said there’s nothing to do but to ‘offer it up’. Good advice I’m sure. I’ll reflect/pray/meditate/get hammered, you know get all the spiritual energy going and see what I come up with.
Mostly I’d like to offer it right up Monsieur Bank’s arse…