Turns out that I share the sewer line with the next door neighbors. That ain't gonna work. So, this means I'll be running my own line. Tearing up the street. More money. But at least I'll be reassured that the sewer line is in pristine condition.
Oh, and the water pipes are made of lead. That's definitely going to change. I don't want no slow-learning babies.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Stuck in the sewer
Tear it up. Can't even reach it. And the MUA says -- no problem, just add the new sewer line to the plans.
What does this mean? The sewer line that runs under the sidewalk is ancient, most likely made of clay. It can't be in very good shape. So, I'll have to tear up the sidewalk and replace it, then replace the sidewalk. Not fun, but not unexpected.
But hold up...mid blog post, call from the contractor. Jersey City is unique. In most towns the city takes care of the line that runs from the sidewalk to the street. Not JC. The homeowner is responsible for that too. Before I commit to the expense of ripping up THE STREET TOO, we're gonna dig into the foundation, unearth the line inside the house, cut it, and then scope it out.
Yay.
What does this mean? The sewer line that runs under the sidewalk is ancient, most likely made of clay. It can't be in very good shape. So, I'll have to tear up the sidewalk and replace it, then replace the sidewalk. Not fun, but not unexpected.
But hold up...mid blog post, call from the contractor. Jersey City is unique. In most towns the city takes care of the line that runs from the sidewalk to the street. Not JC. The homeowner is responsible for that too. Before I commit to the expense of ripping up THE STREET TOO, we're gonna dig into the foundation, unearth the line inside the house, cut it, and then scope it out.
Yay.
Monday, August 2, 2010
Snaking the sewer line
It seems simple enough. I can't get permits from the city until the MUA signs off on the plans. After three weeks of reviewing the plans the MUA said they want a DVD of the condition of the house's sewer line.
I get a plumber to come out and he opens the main pipe in the house, which is wedged against the wall in a weird angle (of course). He can't snake the camera in very far because it's getting caught in the sink trap. He pulls out the toilet on the main level and tries through there. No go. The pipes are so rusted and full of crud that he can't get his apparatus through.
So now we have to pull out the sink and dig into the ground to access the pipe at the sink trap. And then (hopefully) they can run the camera through to the sewer line. If I could check this DURING the construction process, when ALL the pipes will be ripped up, life would be a little bit easier.
This on top of the busted radiator in my truck this weekend. I'm not complaining. Really, I'm not.
I get a plumber to come out and he opens the main pipe in the house, which is wedged against the wall in a weird angle (of course). He can't snake the camera in very far because it's getting caught in the sink trap. He pulls out the toilet on the main level and tries through there. No go. The pipes are so rusted and full of crud that he can't get his apparatus through.
So now we have to pull out the sink and dig into the ground to access the pipe at the sink trap. And then (hopefully) they can run the camera through to the sewer line. If I could check this DURING the construction process, when ALL the pipes will be ripped up, life would be a little bit easier.
This on top of the busted radiator in my truck this weekend. I'm not complaining. Really, I'm not.
MUA
So I go to the MUA office on the other side of town. The guy -- a very nice guy, btw -- tells me that they've recently changed their policy, and now my architect has to fill out a 3-page form and walk the plans in himself.
Fine.
And he tells me it should take about a week.
Great.
Manny fills the forms out and drops it off just before the 4th of July break. So that means I should get it back by mid July. Right?
HAHAHAHA.
(Aside from my sarcasm, I admit that I want this to be handled correctly, especially since the house is in a flood zone, and the sewer system is ancient. I'd rather them be hardasses than lacksidaisical. Careful what you wish for...)
Fine.
And he tells me it should take about a week.
Great.
Manny fills the forms out and drops it off just before the 4th of July break. So that means I should get it back by mid July. Right?
HAHAHAHA.
(Aside from my sarcasm, I admit that I want this to be handled correctly, especially since the house is in a flood zone, and the sewer system is ancient. I'd rather them be hardasses than lacksidaisical. Careful what you wish for...)
The maze of government
Closed in end of February. Beginning of June I started dealing with the city. At the city building department they tell me I can't submit anything until I get approval from the Municipal Utilities Authority, because I'm adding a full bath. The MUA deals with the city's water and sewer systems. They tell me it's easy -- they review it on the spot and sign off.
The fool that I am, I believe it will be as simple as that.
The fool that I am, I believe it will be as simple as that.
Waterlogged
By the way, the house is in a flood zone. Half of downtown Jersey City and most of Hoboken are in flood zones as well. Former marshlands, I think. That's why I had to take out a $1,300 annual flood insurance policy just to get a mortgage.
And it turns out, the flood zone designation is pretty accurate. Mid March there was a wicked rain storm. I stopped by Saturday afternoon. Things were okay. My sump pump was growling away. So far, so good.
Later that night I went into the city to see a cousin in town from Ireland. I get a phone call from my neighbor that there's massive flooding and my sump pump isn't working and the water's coming from my house into hers. Well, the pump WAS working. It's just that when it floods, it floods. There's only so much that an old pump can do.
The next morning I stop by, just a little hungover (damn Irish). It's dry, but there was water. Maybe a couple of inches. And this made me happy. Happy? Yes, happy. Because I now know that flooding isn't a remote possibility but a probability, and I can plan accordingly -- french drains, super-duper sump pumps. You know it.
And it turns out, the flood zone designation is pretty accurate. Mid March there was a wicked rain storm. I stopped by Saturday afternoon. Things were okay. My sump pump was growling away. So far, so good.
Later that night I went into the city to see a cousin in town from Ireland. I get a phone call from my neighbor that there's massive flooding and my sump pump isn't working and the water's coming from my house into hers. Well, the pump WAS working. It's just that when it floods, it floods. There's only so much that an old pump can do.
The next morning I stop by, just a little hungover (damn Irish). It's dry, but there was water. Maybe a couple of inches. And this made me happy. Happy? Yes, happy. Because I now know that flooding isn't a remote possibility but a probability, and I can plan accordingly -- french drains, super-duper sump pumps. You know it.
After closing
So here's the process for anyone interested in extensive renovations:
1. Find contractors. Not easy, believe it or not. Internet, word of mouth, newspapers. I found four who came by. Then I found out that to get an accurate bid I needed to first...
2. Hire an architect. My friend Maria Camoratto from college is one, but she's based in Philly. So she partnered with a friend of hers from school, Manny, who's based in Jersey City. Now, getting the actual plans takes time. It requires on-site measurements, and a lot of back and forth over details. Weeks... and then, once the preliminary plans are competed, they must be submitted to the zoning department for approval of the exterior changes. Then it's on to the next step, which is...
3. Get bids from the contractors. Three came in quickly. The other one took weeks of delays (just to get a bid). I waited for it because I liked and trusted this contractor and his experience. But his bid was wildly over my budget (and the other bids). So that was three weeks wasted. But then I was able to...
4. Select a contractor.
Believe it or not, that was the easy part.
1. Find contractors. Not easy, believe it or not. Internet, word of mouth, newspapers. I found four who came by. Then I found out that to get an accurate bid I needed to first...
2. Hire an architect. My friend Maria Camoratto from college is one, but she's based in Philly. So she partnered with a friend of hers from school, Manny, who's based in Jersey City. Now, getting the actual plans takes time. It requires on-site measurements, and a lot of back and forth over details. Weeks... and then, once the preliminary plans are competed, they must be submitted to the zoning department for approval of the exterior changes. Then it's on to the next step, which is...
3. Get bids from the contractors. Three came in quickly. The other one took weeks of delays (just to get a bid). I waited for it because I liked and trusted this contractor and his experience. But his bid was wildly over my budget (and the other bids). So that was three weeks wasted. But then I was able to...
4. Select a contractor.
Believe it or not, that was the easy part.
Mortgage, closing, etc
All went well as I got closer to the closing. I was walking into the situation with 20% down, and savings, and buying a place that fit my budget. Since the real estate market crashed, the lending standards have gotten much more strict (ie, normal).
And then....I got turned down.
It was nothing to do with my finances. No, it was because the house has no centralized heating system. It's what's known as a cold-water flat: the stove in the kitchen is larger than normal and there's a heater built into the stove. So it's kind of like a space heater on steroids.
The mortgage company refused to underwrite it: they were afraid of resale. Then came the mad scramble to find another mortgage company. After a frantic week or so all was good. I got a mortgage -- 15 year, I'm ambitious -- and the keys were mine. This was on February 19th.
And then....I got turned down.
It was nothing to do with my finances. No, it was because the house has no centralized heating system. It's what's known as a cold-water flat: the stove in the kitchen is larger than normal and there's a heater built into the stove. So it's kind of like a space heater on steroids.
The mortgage company refused to underwrite it: they were afraid of resale. Then came the mad scramble to find another mortgage company. After a frantic week or so all was good. I got a mortgage -- 15 year, I'm ambitious -- and the keys were mine. This was on February 19th.
Pre-closing
Looking back it seemed to go pretty smooth. My agent was Mark Collins at Weichert on Grove Street. He's a great guy and was helpful throughout.
We negotiated a fair price, especially considering ALL the work that needed to be done (ie, everything but the roof). Here are some interior pix:
We negotiated a fair price, especially considering ALL the work that needed to be done (ie, everything but the roof). Here are some interior pix:
Back to the beginning
How it all started...
I sold my condo in Franklin Park in August '08 and then moved to Jersey City as a renter. The apartment was on the top floor of a three level building in a nice area of downtown. Oh, and the first floor of the building is a quiet neighborhood bar.
...that changed ownership around the time I moved in...
...and transformed into a dance club/karaoke/ghetto dive.
No big. I wasn't planning on staying long anyway, so as the real estate market dipped throughout '09, I kept my eye on the market. In December I started looking. After touring several underwhelming one bedroom condos, I found this gem.
A house, a whole entire eleven-and-a-half foot wide house. Three levels, two bedrooms, one bath (toilet and shower, no sink). Not much diamond, a whole lot of rough.
My bid was accepted in December. I was ready.
I sold my condo in Franklin Park in August '08 and then moved to Jersey City as a renter. The apartment was on the top floor of a three level building in a nice area of downtown. Oh, and the first floor of the building is a quiet neighborhood bar.
...that changed ownership around the time I moved in...
...and transformed into a dance club/karaoke/ghetto dive.
No big. I wasn't planning on staying long anyway, so as the real estate market dipped throughout '09, I kept my eye on the market. In December I started looking. After touring several underwhelming one bedroom condos, I found this gem.
A house, a whole entire eleven-and-a-half foot wide house. Three levels, two bedrooms, one bath (toilet and shower, no sink). Not much diamond, a whole lot of rough.
My bid was accepted in December. I was ready.
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