Celebrating Four Years in the Town Cottage

It’s been four years since I’ve owned my little house. I bought the 600-square-foot town cottage a month before the initial coronavirus lockdown in the U.S. and shortly before the housing market went to hell.

Porch plants

I’ve told people I got lucky by buying the last house in town that was sold for what it’s worth. It’s nothing special but it’s mine. Built in 1957, it’s quirky and has its issues but what house doesn’t? After a complete bathroom remodel due to a sinking floor rotting out from water damage, I can now at least take a shower comfortably knowing I won’t fall through the goddamned floor one day. (This was honest-to-God a concern of mine).

Bathroom demo.

Shortly after the pandemic, people from Michigan’s Lower Peninsula, Wisconsin, and Illinois put down cash offers on properties they’d never seen – in many cases, offering thousands more than the going price – to use as summer homes or to make a profit on from reselling a year or two down the road even though no upgrades were made. Riding that market and leaving town like thieves in the night.

Good for them; bad for locals who can’t afford a place in town anymore because it spiked the cost of housing.

It’s “happening everywhere,” I’m told. “Property is still cheap here.”

It is if you’re comparing it to cities like Grand Rapids or Milwaukee.

However, in a town just shy of 2,000 residents, jobs pay nowhere near what they do in larger cities, so goddamn right housing should be cheaper than it is in Grand Rapids and Milwaukee.

But it’s still expensive enough for those with one income, single parents, or a couple making just above minimum wage to the point they can afford utilities or food.

If I hadn’t bought my house when I did, I wouldn’t be able to afford to live here without a roommate or two. Even before I quit my full-time “big girl” job with benefits.

On the other hand, rentals have been hard to come by for years because a lot of properties had already been turned into short-term rentals before the city and surrounding townships put a cap on them. Some STRs were eventually turned into housing for employees because the property owners managed other businesses and their workers had nowhere to live. Ironic, hey?

Even though this town has a prison, hospital, two factory-types, and a handful of other businesses that pay decent to mediocre wages, this – for the most part – is a tourist town because it’s a gateway to a national lakeshore that draws hundreds of thousands of people every year. And while the hospitality field pays slightly higher now (because finding employees has been an issue in recent years), once rent or your mortgage is paid, good luck paying your electricity in time.

Currently, I have heavy blankets blocking my living room because years before I bought the place, the room was converted from a garage. I’d like to talk to the person who did the insulation because damn, it’s fricken cold in there.

The first two years, the electric bill was around $240 during the winter months because the furnace is on the other side of the house, where the original living room was, and I was heating the space with an electric fireplace. Propane would’ve cost even more. I’ve had HVAC companies here to see if I could have a line run to the natural gas which heats the rest of the house, but no one wants to touch it because of the awkward setup.

Yeah, it sucks not having a living room for several months out of the year, but I like reading in bed all right, and now, my bill is just above $100. (Note to self: look into how much it’ll cost to insulate the living room properly).

It’s cold in there…

Pandemic aside, buying this place couldn’t have happened at a more convenient time. The place my boyfriend and I rented in a city forty-five minutes west of where we live now was purchased by a business, along with two other buildings that had storefronts and apartments upstairs, and they kicked everyone out.

Two of the buildings are now a parking lot, including the beautiful apartment we lived in. Hardwood floors, tall ceilings, and natural light from so many windows. Plants loved it. We loved it. It was the coolest place I’ve ever lived. (Sorry town cottage, plz don’t be mad, I love you.)

Anyway, I’ve been told there’s some big development underway but for the last couple of years, it’s been a pile of rubble with an orange plastic fence around it. I’m sure if new apartments were to be built, they’d easily go for double or more of what we paid.

What’s the word I’m looking for here?

It starts with a G…and ends with God, help us all.