The property appraisal people really need to develop a better system, because when tenacious junkyard dogs like me get hold of inequality and injustice, things are going to get ugly the moment I enter the arena.
I am normally a peaceful person. Neurotic but peaceful. I keep to myself and take care of my business. Still, lurking deep down within is a powerful trait, normally dormant, which 99% of the people I encounter will never have to witness.
But it's there.
I am my father's daughter.
We don't let go.
We take hold with our teeth, square our shoulders, and dare the red tape to leash us.
I'm not saying I'll go into the appraisal office with guns blazing. I couldn't if I wanted to-- they make you check 'em at the door before you go through the metal detectors.
Instead, I will use my arsenal of data, and I can guarantee they've never seen anyone so well-prepared for battle.
Unfortunately, there will be collateral damage. I'll have to polarize my neighborhood in the process.
You see, I have discovered that of 23 identical homes in my immediate vicinity, 13 have been incorrectly assessed for square footage. We are paying for more than we have. We are paying more than our next door-neighbors.
I have also discovered 9 unregistered barns, 6 unregistered covered porches, and two unregistered carports.
Six of the appraisal office's own comps aren't consistent with the realtor's advertisements of the homes, and these are substantial discrepancies. Seven-hundred square feet of additional living space discrepancies.
And that's just the exteriors. I haven't scoped out the interiors yet, but I'm betting there's a fair amount of updated flooring and granite counter-tops.
So, if pressed, I may have to dust off the binoculars or invent some sort of premise to gain entry to these homes. Don't worry, I've been studying up on cover-stories with the help of my Private Investigation for Dummies books. Plural.
No joke.
I resent the appraisal office for turning me into such a sleazy busy-body.
I don't want to spy on my neighbors. I already know more about them from this archaeological exploration through the property tax data than I ever wanted to know.
Nobody wants to be a tattle-tale, either, but come on.
This past winter, I sealed the back door with duct-tape because the draft situation was so out of control. We filled knee-socks with kitty litter to create draft snakes for the windows.
Currently I'm creating a radiant barrier out of aluminum foil to try to regulate our electricity costs against the summer surge.
Our counters and floors are the original 1987 tile!
There's no way our home is worth $25,000 more than the 22 other homes in the same quarter-mile radius.
We already knew the neighborhood had rats. (Remember Rat Attack?)
It's sad that I've been forced to become one of them.
Showing posts with label Neighborhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Neighborhood. Show all posts
Friday, May 23, 2014
Wednesday, May 14, 2014
I Fought the Law
It's the magical time of year that happens after Mother's Day and before Memorial Day. It's the 'Protest Your Property Tax' window, and you don't want to miss it.
Traditionally, we do miss it, and those sneaky scallywags jack up our property value appraisal because they think we aren't looking.
And that's because we aren't looking.
May is a very busy month for everyone. Because, you know, Mother's Day. And Field Day. And Teacher Appreciation Week. And Class Picnic Day. And Mom-Did-You-Remember-I-Need-a-Baton-to-Twirl-in-the-School-Parade.
End-of-year-this.
End-of-year-that.
Usually we realize we've missed the protest window around October.
Dang it!
But not this year.
This year, I am ready for them. The question is, are they ready for me?
The city--or maybe the county--makes the process painfully easy. The send their appraisal, along with three additional sheets of paper loaded with helpful tips about your rights and what to do if you'd like to contest their assessment. Most of this is in teeny tiny font, because there is so much helpful information.
There are a few things that are not in flea-sized font, and these are perhaps the most helpful gems of all:
To request an Informal Review or ask questions:
Now, that's just the requesting part, which if done in person is usually finalized right then and there. Here's where things get a little slippery, because if you request by mail or by phone, then they reserve the right to respond within approximately 15 business days.
I don't know how many business days are in May, but I think it might be around 20. Fewer if you exclude Cinco de Mayo and Memorial Day.
And watch out, because "If you have not received a written response to your informal review before the protest deadline, you may want to deliver your written protest (postmarked on or before the protest deadline OR hand-delivered to our office on or before the protest deadline) to reserve your rights to an Appraisal Review Board hearing. The Appraisal Review Board will NOT accept protests filed via facsimile or email. An informal review does not reserve your rights to an Appraisal Review Board Hearing."
Please note, the menacing use of underline and bold are from the source and not the messenger.
Now, if you are going to make the drive up there to wait in person (typically 45 minutes, usually longer) they recommend that you pack accordingly.
"Please provide contracts, comparable sales data, appraisals, loan documents, repair estimates, photographs, and any other information you deem relevant."
Comparable sales data and appraisals? Don't let that discourage you. This can be easily obtained if you follow the steps from my handy checklist:
Step 1. Use satellite imaging from google to view your neighborhood. Identify your own roof-line, and then try to identify nearby homes with similar roof-lines. These could become your comps. (Pro Tip: The satellite imaging is strikingly clear, so try not to become distracted by neighbors' yard-clutter. Make a mental note to never become the neighbor with yard-clutter.)
Step 2. With candidates in mind, drive around your neighborhood slowly so as to verify that the front and sides of the potential matches are consistent with the basic format of your own. Stay out of the mailman's way-- that guy is on a mission! Stick a post-it note to your steering wheel and attempt to record the house numbers. This may sound tricky, but it can be done. Not done well, just done. (Pro Tip: Try not to write down any words, just the numbers, or you will drive yourself crazy wondering what the heck a "pestaley" is.)
Step 3. After you return home, use a real-estate website like Zillow to confirm the house numbers, just in case you can't read your own handwriting. Next (and unfortunately, this is every bit as creepy and stalker-ish as it sounds) log on to the appraisal district's website and run a property search on the candidates. Confirm square footage. Record important data, like the year their home was built, what they paid in taxes last year, and their home's current and previous appraisal values. What was the appraised value of their land lot? Do they have a pool? Covered porch? Tool shed? What years were these improvements acquired? Is there anything unusual in the pattern of appraisal growth or decline? Has the property had an unusual amount of turnover in ownership? (Pro Tip: print out this data, since you'll need to use it as proof at the appraisal office (you know, the office that created the data...) And, since you're already in front of the computer, create a google spreadsheet of all those elements, so that you can compare and contrast on the go.)
Step 4. Now that you're armed and ready, wade through the fine print of the paperwork that arrived in the mail until you find the directions for filing an online protest. Aha! If you are eligible, you won't have to drive to the main office two towns away to wait a minimum of 45 minutes.
Oh, sweet relief.
What's this? An opportunity to explain why you feel your property has been inaccurately appraised in 1024 characters or less?
It might be a trap.
Proceed carefully.
(And do spaces count as characters?)
Pro Tip: Count the spaces as characters, but aim to use every last character to really demonstrate your commitment to this matter. Draft your explanation in Microsoft Word, and monitor your character-count often. Revise thoroughly. Revise so thoroughly that your login status with the appraisal website expires four or five times. Aim for a light, friendly tone, as these folks probably get a lot of nasty-grams from the people who are tired of their taxes being jacked up year after year after year.
Here is a 1024 character sample:
Hi! There haven’t been any real improvements to our property in at least as long as we've lived here (and possibly since the house was built!) The floors and counter-tops are made of the original tile that was popular in 1987. Our pool, also original, is showing its age. Renovations/repairs would cost more than building a new one. This winter, we lost several backyard trees and much shade and privacy. Ice destroyed most of our landscaping efforts, too. We tried to replace it with grass, but with the water restrictions, it's been a failure so far. It's pretty sad, actually. We love our home, and we try to take care of it-- it's very clean-- but I was shocked when I compared the data to other neighborhood homes (with pools) with our exact floorplan and builder year. Ours has been appraised much higher than similar properties for the last 3 years (and I know we haven't purchased THAT much duct-tape!) I hope you'll consider reducing our appraisal value, and I’ll happily provide any photos or data to convince you.
Bonus Pro Tip: Take out the parts about the fire-ants, crabgrass, and the neighbor's yappy dog, Julio.
Step 5. Wait. (That's the step I'm currently experiencing.) Pro Tip: While you wait, take pictures to verify your claims. The more pathetic, the better!
I will update you as things progress.
If things progress.
And they better progress.
Update! 5/14/14, 9:04 a.m.: They made their first offer: reducing the appraisal by $5,146 (which leaves essentially $25,000 worth of duct-tape in the past three years.)
I don't think that's going to work out for me.
Time to consult the ultra-fine print.
And maybe take more pathetic pictures...
Traditionally, we do miss it, and those sneaky scallywags jack up our property value appraisal because they think we aren't looking.
And that's because we aren't looking.
May is a very busy month for everyone. Because, you know, Mother's Day. And Field Day. And Teacher Appreciation Week. And Class Picnic Day. And Mom-Did-You-Remember-I-Need-a-Baton-to-Twirl-in-the-School-Parade.
End-of-year-this.
End-of-year-that.
Usually we realize we've missed the protest window around October.
Dang it!
But not this year.
This year, I am ready for them. The question is, are they ready for me?
The city--or maybe the county--makes the process painfully easy. The send their appraisal, along with three additional sheets of paper loaded with helpful tips about your rights and what to do if you'd like to contest their assessment. Most of this is in teeny tiny font, because there is so much helpful information.
 |
| (Front Side) |
 |
| (Back Side) |
There are a few things that are not in flea-sized font, and these are perhaps the most helpful gems of all:
To request an Informal Review or ask questions:
Now, that's just the requesting part, which if done in person is usually finalized right then and there. Here's where things get a little slippery, because if you request by mail or by phone, then they reserve the right to respond within approximately 15 business days.
I don't know how many business days are in May, but I think it might be around 20. Fewer if you exclude Cinco de Mayo and Memorial Day.
And watch out, because "If you have not received a written response to your informal review before the protest deadline, you may want to deliver your written protest (postmarked on or before the protest deadline OR hand-delivered to our office on or before the protest deadline) to reserve your rights to an Appraisal Review Board hearing. The Appraisal Review Board will NOT accept protests filed via facsimile or email. An informal review does not reserve your rights to an Appraisal Review Board Hearing."
Please note, the menacing use of underline and bold are from the source and not the messenger.
Now, if you are going to make the drive up there to wait in person (typically 45 minutes, usually longer) they recommend that you pack accordingly.
"Please provide contracts, comparable sales data, appraisals, loan documents, repair estimates, photographs, and any other information you deem relevant."
Comparable sales data and appraisals? Don't let that discourage you. This can be easily obtained if you follow the steps from my handy checklist:
Step 1. Use satellite imaging from google to view your neighborhood. Identify your own roof-line, and then try to identify nearby homes with similar roof-lines. These could become your comps. (Pro Tip: The satellite imaging is strikingly clear, so try not to become distracted by neighbors' yard-clutter. Make a mental note to never become the neighbor with yard-clutter.)
Step 2. With candidates in mind, drive around your neighborhood slowly so as to verify that the front and sides of the potential matches are consistent with the basic format of your own. Stay out of the mailman's way-- that guy is on a mission! Stick a post-it note to your steering wheel and attempt to record the house numbers. This may sound tricky, but it can be done. Not done well, just done. (Pro Tip: Try not to write down any words, just the numbers, or you will drive yourself crazy wondering what the heck a "pestaley" is.)
 |
| Pestaley? |
Step 3. After you return home, use a real-estate website like Zillow to confirm the house numbers, just in case you can't read your own handwriting. Next (and unfortunately, this is every bit as creepy and stalker-ish as it sounds) log on to the appraisal district's website and run a property search on the candidates. Confirm square footage. Record important data, like the year their home was built, what they paid in taxes last year, and their home's current and previous appraisal values. What was the appraised value of their land lot? Do they have a pool? Covered porch? Tool shed? What years were these improvements acquired? Is there anything unusual in the pattern of appraisal growth or decline? Has the property had an unusual amount of turnover in ownership? (Pro Tip: print out this data, since you'll need to use it as proof at the appraisal office (you know, the office that created the data...) And, since you're already in front of the computer, create a google spreadsheet of all those elements, so that you can compare and contrast on the go.)
Step 4. Now that you're armed and ready, wade through the fine print of the paperwork that arrived in the mail until you find the directions for filing an online protest. Aha! If you are eligible, you won't have to drive to the main office two towns away to wait a minimum of 45 minutes.
Oh, sweet relief.
What's this? An opportunity to explain why you feel your property has been inaccurately appraised in 1024 characters or less?
It might be a trap.
Proceed carefully.
(And do spaces count as characters?)
Pro Tip: Count the spaces as characters, but aim to use every last character to really demonstrate your commitment to this matter. Draft your explanation in Microsoft Word, and monitor your character-count often. Revise thoroughly. Revise so thoroughly that your login status with the appraisal website expires four or five times. Aim for a light, friendly tone, as these folks probably get a lot of nasty-grams from the people who are tired of their taxes being jacked up year after year after year.
Here is a 1024 character sample:
Hi! There haven’t been any real improvements to our property in at least as long as we've lived here (and possibly since the house was built!) The floors and counter-tops are made of the original tile that was popular in 1987. Our pool, also original, is showing its age. Renovations/repairs would cost more than building a new one. This winter, we lost several backyard trees and much shade and privacy. Ice destroyed most of our landscaping efforts, too. We tried to replace it with grass, but with the water restrictions, it's been a failure so far. It's pretty sad, actually. We love our home, and we try to take care of it-- it's very clean-- but I was shocked when I compared the data to other neighborhood homes (with pools) with our exact floorplan and builder year. Ours has been appraised much higher than similar properties for the last 3 years (and I know we haven't purchased THAT much duct-tape!) I hope you'll consider reducing our appraisal value, and I’ll happily provide any photos or data to convince you.
Bonus Pro Tip: Take out the parts about the fire-ants, crabgrass, and the neighbor's yappy dog, Julio.
Step 5. Wait. (That's the step I'm currently experiencing.) Pro Tip: While you wait, take pictures to verify your claims. The more pathetic, the better!
 |
| Because tile never goes out of style, right? |
 |
| Pay particular attention to the pool tiles and trees... (or lack thereof) |
 |
| Grass (or lack thereof) |
I will update you as things progress.
If things progress.
And they better progress.
Update! 5/14/14, 9:04 a.m.: They made their first offer: reducing the appraisal by $5,146 (which leaves essentially $25,000 worth of duct-tape in the past three years.)
I don't think that's going to work out for me.
Time to consult the ultra-fine print.
And maybe take more pathetic pictures...
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
Local Luxe
Kenny's Wood-Fired Grill in Addison has been our special-occasion celebration venue for the past few years. While it is reasonably priced, the service and food at Kenny's is of an unparalleled decadence.
Servers transfer your martini to an ice-cold fresh glass every ten minutes to maintain the integrity of that Grey Goose on tap, ready and waiting for you at precisely 28 degrees.
Let's not forget those fat blue-cheese-stuffed olives. If you happen to finish yours within the ten minutes between glass-transfers, they bring you a whole new skewer of them. YUM!
Then there's the tenderloin crostini with the bearnaise sauce and demi glace and the oh-so-delicately-fried portabella appetizer. Every entree is a winner, too. And while there are several dessert options, the only one we've ever tried-- ever needed to try-- was the bread pudding, which I am pretty sure is made from the previous day's fluffy, eggy popovers.
Perfection.
When Russ asked if he should make a reservation for my upcoming birthday, he was surprised when I declined.
"You know how accommodating they are-- I'm sure they can do all kinds of gluten-free things for you if we ask," he said.
"It doesn't matter. I'd still have to see all those lovely delicacies being delivered to other tables nearby. I'd be green with envy if you ordered any of our old favorite things, but I don't want to hold you back, either. And I'd feel stupid asking them to periodically transfer my iced tea to a new cold glass. Forget it. It's just not the same."
Russ countered with a completely different proposition: spending a day at Spa Castle.
Oooh, now that would be a treat.
Spa Castle is an exotic paradise located only twenty minutes from our house. It's what I imagine a five-star all-inclusive resort in Korea (the good Korea) might be like. I say this because depending on the day or time of day that you're there, yours might be the only non-Asian face in the whole resort. This is not a bad thing-- you just literally feel as though you've traveled to another country.
Minus the annoying jet lag, of course.
Win-win!
There are ten saunas and even more pools and hot tubs. I'm honestly not sure how many-- maybe 15? Some are co-ed and swimsuit-mandatory, while the au naturale in-the-nude pools are segregated by gender. Many lounges, social areas, and even a fitness room round out the day-admission area. Spa services (massages, accupressure, manicures, etc.) are also available for an extra cost.
The facility is incredible, and the entrance fee of $35 is reasonable. I've heard that sometimes there are $17 deals available on Groupon and Living Social, though I've yet to encounter any. Rumor has it that you can also purchase a reduced-price ticket ($20, maybe?) if you spend a certain amount of money (again, $20, maybe?) at an Asian grocery store called H-Mart, which is located directly across the street from the Carrollton facility.
The entrance fee allows you to be there for a full 24 hours. While this may seem implausible, the amount of lounges and luxurious nap-areas make it a genuine possibility. Additionally, a very snazzy place referred to as the "locker room" offers all the creature comforts you could possibly need for a multi-hour stay and are available free-of-charge.
I don't just mean drinking water and towels, either.
Shampoo, soap, conditioner, detangler, toothbrushes, toothpaste, lotion, razors, deodorant...
If you are starting to think this sounds like a dream-come-true, there are a few drawbacks that anchor Spa Castle firmly in reality.
1. The Food Options
The facility has several dining options including at least two sit-down type restaurants, a Starbucks stand, a frozen yogurt stand, and a snack bar. While the cost of the menu items is a little on the high side, my greatest challenge was finding gluten-free/msg-free options. The nature of Asian cuisine, compounded by the language barrier, made this part of the experience a bit discouraging. I had the best luck interacting with the staff at the snack bar, as most of their menu items are more "Americanized" as are the teenagers staffing that area. They understood the problem and came up with some creative options-- I ended up having a modified Philly cheese-steak sandwich on corn tortillas, and it was delicious.
Later that day, my hopes soared when I saw a family unpacking a makeshift picnic from an assortment of tupperware containers.
During checkout, I asked the manager about the possibility of bringing in outside food, and apparently it is against the rules. I tried to explain about the gluten/msg problem, but I am not sure she understood.
Language barrier.
Nobody searches your bags upon entry, but I do like to follow the rules. I don't mind not eating--especially if it keeps me out of gluten-pain-- but if hunger sets in, it could really put a damper on the pleasure of the experience and the length of our stay.
2. Kids, Especially the Unsupervised Variety
We'd read on Yelp that unsupervised children ran amok in herds (I still can't fathom who would cough up $35 per kid to be in such an adult-oriented environment) and we tried to build our experience around this factor.
Our visit took place during Spring Break. We reasoned that Monday would be our best bet for a peaceful day-- hopefully most folks wouldn't galvanize their troops until later in the week. Furthermore, we predicted that the presence of children would increase throughout the day, and that they'd probably be most drawn to the outdoor bade pools, so this is where we began our adventure when we arrived shortly before 9 am.
Once the children swarmed the area, that would be our cue to head indoors to Sauna Valley.
Because how many kids would want to run amok in small, 185-degree huts, right? More than you would think.
Our plan was semi-effective, but by nightfall, the unsupervised herd was primarily indoors and running from hut to hut.
Open the door, giggle, slam the door closed.
They seemed to be playing some sort of game involving who could complete the open-giggle-slam cycle the fastest, the loudest, and the most enthusiastically.
With our nerves unraveling and our tension-levels moving toward pre-spa restoration, we decided to separate and try out the naked pool/bath experience.
Which was fine, until Russ encountered some of his middle school students.
Lesson here? It's probably better to come here on a school day.
And that is precisely what we intend to do.
If you plan to visit Spa Castle, here are a few tips:
-Aim for a school day and arrive early.
Avoid weekends, holidays, and (as we learned the hard way!) school vacation days.
-Bring your own beach towel.
Actually, bring several-- some to dry off with and some to use as "liners" in the saunas, on the lounge chairs, and on the nap mats. Even though they provide towels, you'll be more comfortable with your own. You'll have an assigned locker where you can store them. Same thing with bathing suits-- pack several. I hate the feeling of a damp suit when I am ready to feel dry, so I was glad to have a back-up suit when we switched to the saunas. Next time I plan to pack three or four suits along with some gallon-sized ziplock bags to put the wet ones into so that my regular clothes and other dry items don't get damp.
-Prepare for your visit the way you might prepare to be a contestant on Survivor.
a.) Leave your jewelry at home. Even your wedding ring. There are so many pools, it would be impossible to find it if it slipped off of your finger.
b.) Don't bother with makeup-- you'll probably just sweat it off, anyway.
c.) Wear something loose and comfortable that you can change into and out of quickly and easily. They'll provide a "uniform" for you to wear while you're actually there, so no need to dwell on fashion.
d.) Choose a hairstyle that is low maintenance AND comfortable for lying on your back in the saunas (goodbye, traditional ponytail!) I had good luck with Heidi-style braids.
e.) If food sensitivities are an issue, eat a big meal before you go and keep some snacks ready in the car for the trip home. Note: they will not let you go out to the parking lot and re-enter. Once you're out, you're out for good.
f.) Sunscreen and sunglasses!
g.) Be ready for the nudity factor, and don't dwell on it. I noticed that those who went to extremes to conceal their bodies ended up attracting even more attention because of the theatrics. Just go with the flow.
If you are in the area, I would definitely recommend giving this place a try. I'm very eager for our return visit. If Dallas isn't in your future, I've heard there is a second location in College Point, New York. A third location is currently under construction in Manhattan.
To learn more about the sauna options and their effects, click here: http://spacastleusa.com/tx/sauna-valley/
Here is a promotional video I found for our Texas location:
Here are some screen-shots from the Spa Castle website:
Servers transfer your martini to an ice-cold fresh glass every ten minutes to maintain the integrity of that Grey Goose on tap, ready and waiting for you at precisely 28 degrees.
Let's not forget those fat blue-cheese-stuffed olives. If you happen to finish yours within the ten minutes between glass-transfers, they bring you a whole new skewer of them. YUM!
Then there's the tenderloin crostini with the bearnaise sauce and demi glace and the oh-so-delicately-fried portabella appetizer. Every entree is a winner, too. And while there are several dessert options, the only one we've ever tried-- ever needed to try-- was the bread pudding, which I am pretty sure is made from the previous day's fluffy, eggy popovers.
Perfection.
When Russ asked if he should make a reservation for my upcoming birthday, he was surprised when I declined.
"You know how accommodating they are-- I'm sure they can do all kinds of gluten-free things for you if we ask," he said.
"It doesn't matter. I'd still have to see all those lovely delicacies being delivered to other tables nearby. I'd be green with envy if you ordered any of our old favorite things, but I don't want to hold you back, either. And I'd feel stupid asking them to periodically transfer my iced tea to a new cold glass. Forget it. It's just not the same."
Russ countered with a completely different proposition: spending a day at Spa Castle.
Oooh, now that would be a treat.
***
Spa Castle is an exotic paradise located only twenty minutes from our house. It's what I imagine a five-star all-inclusive resort in Korea (the good Korea) might be like. I say this because depending on the day or time of day that you're there, yours might be the only non-Asian face in the whole resort. This is not a bad thing-- you just literally feel as though you've traveled to another country.
Minus the annoying jet lag, of course.
Win-win!
There are ten saunas and even more pools and hot tubs. I'm honestly not sure how many-- maybe 15? Some are co-ed and swimsuit-mandatory, while the au naturale in-the-nude pools are segregated by gender. Many lounges, social areas, and even a fitness room round out the day-admission area. Spa services (massages, accupressure, manicures, etc.) are also available for an extra cost.
The facility is incredible, and the entrance fee of $35 is reasonable. I've heard that sometimes there are $17 deals available on Groupon and Living Social, though I've yet to encounter any. Rumor has it that you can also purchase a reduced-price ticket ($20, maybe?) if you spend a certain amount of money (again, $20, maybe?) at an Asian grocery store called H-Mart, which is located directly across the street from the Carrollton facility.
The entrance fee allows you to be there for a full 24 hours. While this may seem implausible, the amount of lounges and luxurious nap-areas make it a genuine possibility. Additionally, a very snazzy place referred to as the "locker room" offers all the creature comforts you could possibly need for a multi-hour stay and are available free-of-charge.
I don't just mean drinking water and towels, either.
Shampoo, soap, conditioner, detangler, toothbrushes, toothpaste, lotion, razors, deodorant...
If you are starting to think this sounds like a dream-come-true, there are a few drawbacks that anchor Spa Castle firmly in reality.
1. The Food Options
The facility has several dining options including at least two sit-down type restaurants, a Starbucks stand, a frozen yogurt stand, and a snack bar. While the cost of the menu items is a little on the high side, my greatest challenge was finding gluten-free/msg-free options. The nature of Asian cuisine, compounded by the language barrier, made this part of the experience a bit discouraging. I had the best luck interacting with the staff at the snack bar, as most of their menu items are more "Americanized" as are the teenagers staffing that area. They understood the problem and came up with some creative options-- I ended up having a modified Philly cheese-steak sandwich on corn tortillas, and it was delicious.
Later that day, my hopes soared when I saw a family unpacking a makeshift picnic from an assortment of tupperware containers.
During checkout, I asked the manager about the possibility of bringing in outside food, and apparently it is against the rules. I tried to explain about the gluten/msg problem, but I am not sure she understood.
Language barrier.
Nobody searches your bags upon entry, but I do like to follow the rules. I don't mind not eating--especially if it keeps me out of gluten-pain-- but if hunger sets in, it could really put a damper on the pleasure of the experience and the length of our stay.
2. Kids, Especially the Unsupervised Variety
We'd read on Yelp that unsupervised children ran amok in herds (I still can't fathom who would cough up $35 per kid to be in such an adult-oriented environment) and we tried to build our experience around this factor.
Our visit took place during Spring Break. We reasoned that Monday would be our best bet for a peaceful day-- hopefully most folks wouldn't galvanize their troops until later in the week. Furthermore, we predicted that the presence of children would increase throughout the day, and that they'd probably be most drawn to the outdoor bade pools, so this is where we began our adventure when we arrived shortly before 9 am.
Once the children swarmed the area, that would be our cue to head indoors to Sauna Valley.
Because how many kids would want to run amok in small, 185-degree huts, right? More than you would think.
Our plan was semi-effective, but by nightfall, the unsupervised herd was primarily indoors and running from hut to hut.
Open the door, giggle, slam the door closed.
They seemed to be playing some sort of game involving who could complete the open-giggle-slam cycle the fastest, the loudest, and the most enthusiastically.
With our nerves unraveling and our tension-levels moving toward pre-spa restoration, we decided to separate and try out the naked pool/bath experience.
Which was fine, until Russ encountered some of his middle school students.
Lesson here? It's probably better to come here on a school day.
And that is precisely what we intend to do.
If you plan to visit Spa Castle, here are a few tips:
-Aim for a school day and arrive early.
Avoid weekends, holidays, and (as we learned the hard way!) school vacation days.
-Bring your own beach towel.
Actually, bring several-- some to dry off with and some to use as "liners" in the saunas, on the lounge chairs, and on the nap mats. Even though they provide towels, you'll be more comfortable with your own. You'll have an assigned locker where you can store them. Same thing with bathing suits-- pack several. I hate the feeling of a damp suit when I am ready to feel dry, so I was glad to have a back-up suit when we switched to the saunas. Next time I plan to pack three or four suits along with some gallon-sized ziplock bags to put the wet ones into so that my regular clothes and other dry items don't get damp.
-Prepare for your visit the way you might prepare to be a contestant on Survivor.
a.) Leave your jewelry at home. Even your wedding ring. There are so many pools, it would be impossible to find it if it slipped off of your finger.
b.) Don't bother with makeup-- you'll probably just sweat it off, anyway.
c.) Wear something loose and comfortable that you can change into and out of quickly and easily. They'll provide a "uniform" for you to wear while you're actually there, so no need to dwell on fashion.
d.) Choose a hairstyle that is low maintenance AND comfortable for lying on your back in the saunas (goodbye, traditional ponytail!) I had good luck with Heidi-style braids.
e.) If food sensitivities are an issue, eat a big meal before you go and keep some snacks ready in the car for the trip home. Note: they will not let you go out to the parking lot and re-enter. Once you're out, you're out for good.
f.) Sunscreen and sunglasses!
g.) Be ready for the nudity factor, and don't dwell on it. I noticed that those who went to extremes to conceal their bodies ended up attracting even more attention because of the theatrics. Just go with the flow.
If you are in the area, I would definitely recommend giving this place a try. I'm very eager for our return visit. If Dallas isn't in your future, I've heard there is a second location in College Point, New York. A third location is currently under construction in Manhattan.
To learn more about the sauna options and their effects, click here: http://spacastleusa.com/tx/sauna-valley/
Here is a promotional video I found for our Texas location:
(If you are viewing this on a mobile device and it doesn't load, use this link to go straight to youtube:
Here are some screen-shots from the Spa Castle website:
 |
| There's some wide-angle camera-trickery going on here. Also, the pool on the right is clean. It is that color due to its green tile. |
 |
And finally, here are my favorite saunas:
Wednesday, April 2, 2014
Lucky
Don't stand too close to me or you might just win the lottery. I'm positively oozing with luck.
Yesterday I had the grand privilege of doing yard work.
Only someone who is very, very lucky has an opportunity to maintain her own lawn.
After all, someone must have time to do such a magnificent task. Most of the people in our neighborhood are not as lucky as I am. They don't have the luxury of time, so they are stuck hiring landscaping companies to do the work for them.
Poor things.
At some point in the last few weeks, the warm weather brought out the buds on the trees and the last of the fall's leaves finally dropped.
That was my signal that it was finally safe to take action.
Rain was in the forecast, but if my luck held steady, I could take care of my business before the sky fell.
The dark clouds kept the temperature from getting too hot. Luck!
A pleasant pre-storm breeze cooled me like a fan. Double luck!
The leaves were not as lucky as I; the breeze was not kind to them at all. The neat piles I'd raked scattered with each gust.
Poor things.
I tried not to let it frustrate me. There are people in parts of the world that are not as lucky as I am. They don't have lawns or trees.
Poor things.
My neighbors, too, were not as lucky as I; almost all the leaves from my lawn blew onto their beautifully manicured lawns, despite my incredibly valiant attempts to prevent that from happening.
Feeling appalled, embarrassed, and guilty, I willed the leaves to stop blowing away while frantically trying to corral them into the over-sized brown paper sack of a yard bag.
Stay put, I telegraphed.
"Stay put," I whispered.
"Stay put!" I begged aloud, but the leaves did not obey.
"STAY PUT, YOU STUPID FREAKING LEAVES!" I shouted.
By now I was certain that luck was on my side: the wind drowned out most of my yelling, and anyone interacting with nearby lawns didn't speak English anyway.
In a fit of futile guilt-propelled effort, I chased the leaves up and down the street, mentally composing apology notes to the owners of every home I passed. Luckily, there wasn't much to say.
I've heard that lottery winners lives often take a turn for the worse following their windfalls, and this does not surprise me whatsoever.
It seems that being lucky can be its own curse.
Yesterday I had the grand privilege of doing yard work.
Only someone who is very, very lucky has an opportunity to maintain her own lawn.
After all, someone must have time to do such a magnificent task. Most of the people in our neighborhood are not as lucky as I am. They don't have the luxury of time, so they are stuck hiring landscaping companies to do the work for them.
Poor things.
At some point in the last few weeks, the warm weather brought out the buds on the trees and the last of the fall's leaves finally dropped.
That was my signal that it was finally safe to take action.
Rain was in the forecast, but if my luck held steady, I could take care of my business before the sky fell.
The dark clouds kept the temperature from getting too hot. Luck!
A pleasant pre-storm breeze cooled me like a fan. Double luck!
The leaves were not as lucky as I; the breeze was not kind to them at all. The neat piles I'd raked scattered with each gust.
Poor things.
I tried not to let it frustrate me. There are people in parts of the world that are not as lucky as I am. They don't have lawns or trees.
Poor things.
My neighbors, too, were not as lucky as I; almost all the leaves from my lawn blew onto their beautifully manicured lawns, despite my incredibly valiant attempts to prevent that from happening.
Feeling appalled, embarrassed, and guilty, I willed the leaves to stop blowing away while frantically trying to corral them into the over-sized brown paper sack of a yard bag.
Stay put, I telegraphed.
"Stay put," I whispered.
"Stay put!" I begged aloud, but the leaves did not obey.
"STAY PUT, YOU STUPID FREAKING LEAVES!" I shouted.
By now I was certain that luck was on my side: the wind drowned out most of my yelling, and anyone interacting with nearby lawns didn't speak English anyway.
In a fit of futile guilt-propelled effort, I chased the leaves up and down the street, mentally composing apology notes to the owners of every home I passed. Luckily, there wasn't much to say.
I've heard that lottery winners lives often take a turn for the worse following their windfalls, and this does not surprise me whatsoever.
It seems that being lucky can be its own curse.
Thursday, December 12, 2013
Paper Soldiers
It's a tree aficionado's nightmare around here.
(Although I am always eager to dazzle readers with snazzy words, I did not use the word "arborphiliac" just now because it turns out that is a real thing with a very different--and disturbing--meaning! Trust me, you don't want to look it up.)
One little ice storm has devastated the landscape.
Okay, landscaping.
Death and destruction everywhere you turn.
Many of the trees and bushes that have dutifully guarded our front walkways and protected our backyard privacy succumbed to the recent weather crisis.
It's very dramatic and heartbreaking.
I lived in New England for 18 years, and I don't remember seeing things like this each winter.
Maybe those northern sentinels have an age advantage-- sentries for centuries, they've an internal strength that our newbie trees do not.
Are the trees more resilient to the cold up north, or are the people more resilient to the sight of broken trees?
Now, it could just be that my memory is inaccurate. Or it could just be that there are just so many trees around that area that it skews the proportion and perception.
But I like to think that the trees up there--because they are more plentiful, and because they are usually clumped together in those things called groves and forests-- are able to withstand all the cold temperatures and ice because they are sticking together.
Supporting each other.
Holding each other up through the hard times.
Those are the kind of trees Robert Frost and Joyce Kilmer used to write about.
Nobody ever writes about our trees.
Except me, I guess.
_______
The following photos show the damage in my immediate neighborhood. This is only a part of what fell within a 50-foot radius of my house.
(Although I am always eager to dazzle readers with snazzy words, I did not use the word "arborphiliac" just now because it turns out that is a real thing with a very different--and disturbing--meaning! Trust me, you don't want to look it up.)
One little ice storm has devastated the landscape.
Okay, landscaping.
Death and destruction everywhere you turn.
Many of the trees and bushes that have dutifully guarded our front walkways and protected our backyard privacy succumbed to the recent weather crisis.
It's very dramatic and heartbreaking.
I lived in New England for 18 years, and I don't remember seeing things like this each winter.
Maybe those northern sentinels have an age advantage-- sentries for centuries, they've an internal strength that our newbie trees do not.
Are the trees more resilient to the cold up north, or are the people more resilient to the sight of broken trees?
Now, it could just be that my memory is inaccurate. Or it could just be that there are just so many trees around that area that it skews the proportion and perception.
But I like to think that the trees up there--because they are more plentiful, and because they are usually clumped together in those things called groves and forests-- are able to withstand all the cold temperatures and ice because they are sticking together.
Supporting each other.
Holding each other up through the hard times.
Those are the kind of trees Robert Frost and Joyce Kilmer used to write about.
Nobody ever writes about our trees.
Except me, I guess.
_______
The following photos show the damage in my immediate neighborhood. This is only a part of what fell within a 50-foot radius of my house.
 |
| I had to take this picture from the upstairs window because I duct-taped the back door closed, and the fence gate is still iced over. |
 |
| This sidewalk leads directly to the middle school. How many kids thought about turning around and calling it quits at this "roadblock"? |
 |
| Their lawn crew comes twice a week. I'm sure this will be gone by morning. |
 |
| I feel especially bad for this family-- under all that debris is an impressive Christmas display. I wonder if the manger offered any protection. |
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
Split Personality
Part dumpster-diver, part Howard Hughes. That's me.
Today is trash day. The neighbors have put out this
bookshelf, and it is taking ALL of my self-discipline not to swipe it. It’s a maneuver
I’ve done before for a lesser reward—a very nice glass door that The Jazzy One had
set curbside. He has the same floorplan that we do, so it should have fit.
It did not.
It sat in a most inconvenient (and inconspicuous) place in
our garage for at least six months before we covertly sneaked it into our car
under the cover of darkness and delivered to the Habitat for Humanity people.
They were so grateful and thanked us with such sincerity that I felt like a schmuck for days.
They were so grateful and thanked us with such sincerity that I felt like a schmuck for days.
Possibly weeks.
This bookshelf looks to be in good shape. Why would
anybody put a perfectly good bookshelf out on trash day?
I wonder if I’m strong enough to carry it to our garage.
Probably. Or I could always use the Little Tikes plastic wagon. I’ve done that
move before, too. (One must be exceptionally nonchalant when wheeling away
neighbors' castoffs in a Little Tikes wagon.)
What if they are getting rid of it because a dog or cat
sprayed it?
YUCK!
What if it has termites?
YIKES!
What if it has bedbugs?
EEK!
Could I continue to live in a house in a neighborhood
with an alley-mate with bedbugs? It’s almost too terrible to consider.
Okay. I could take it, and if there is anything even
remotely suspicious about it, I could sell it on Craigslist.
But then they’d think we
were the ones with bedbugs.
I can’t take it!
I just can’t take it.
 |
| My cover story for taking this photo involves their lovely new fence. Totally photoworthy, don't you think? |
Thursday, July 4, 2013
Rat Attack
Life, liberty, and the pursuit of rat-free happiness. Yes, the patriots of Plano know how to live the American dream.
This seemed like such a lovely neighborhood when we bought the house two years ago, but lately it's starting to feel like God is cursing us--just us--with a contemporary twist on those old-testament plagues. New, improved, and completely updated for the twenty-first century.
Swarms of mosquitoes.
Julio and his canine compadres.
I received an email last week that there's an entire community of coyotes that have taken up residence in the ravine, and I'm still not sure where we stand on the bobcat problem.
See where this bobcat is standing?
Definitely a problem.
They're saying the locust will probably return at the end of the summer.
And to top it off, there's another writer in the neighborhood, and he is much, much tougher than me. He's slain vermin, lived to tell about it, written an attack manual, and already published it.
Do I resent him? No.
Envy him? No. Well, I definitely did not envy the vermin battles. The publishing, maybe a little.
The author is Joe, Cindy's husband. He is lovely. They are both lovely.
Russ will tell you that the reason we chose this house is the built-in wine rack thingy in the kitchen, but I've always felt that the real reason is Cindy and Joe. They are the people you hope you can become when you grow up. Kind, committed, compassionate, and so very real. You feel good around them, as though all is right with the world. Wouldn't you want to be neighbors with them so that you could feel that way every day?
There were several problems with my logic, though. First, living near genuinely wonderful people makes us the crazy neighbors by default, which isn't so bad. Chances are that we would have snagged that title no matter where we landed. I should have remembered, however, the lesser-known extension to this general truth: good people are often punished in pied-piper ways. This time, quite literally, it appears.
How could their awesomeness have resulted in anything BUT a rat infestation?
Nevertheless, I was surprised and impressed when Cindy told me about Joe's e-book (Rat Hunter, available on Amazon!) and I downloaded it immediately.
Before settling in to what I hoped would be mostly fictional--or at the very least, hyperbole--I decided to gauge the severity of the situation.
"Do you know anything about a rat problem around here?" I asked Russ.
"Uh, hmm. Well," he began. Oh, no.
"What? Just tell me. No. Don't tell me. Have there been... rats?"
"Well, yes. In the yard. While you were in Florida,"
"What? WHAT?! Alive or dead?"
"It was kind of hard to tell."
"DON'T TELL ME! Why didn't you TELL ME?"
"I didn't want you to freak out."
"WHY WOULD I FREAK OUT?"
Oh, God. Oh, God. All this time I thought those gray things hopping around the yard were rabbits. It's no wonder Julio goes nuts every night. All this time I've been plotting his demise, and the little fella was probably just trying to save our lives.
Joe's entertaining book describes their ordeal and how they eventually conquered rodent-kind. In between anecdotes and helpful instructions, there are some fascinating and horrifying fun facts.
I'm thrilled that they've reclaimed their independence from those horrid house-guests, but to be honest, I'm a little creeped out about the implications of their victory-- if the rats know their home is off limits, will they seek shelter in mine?
I'm glad to have access to Joe's methods, just in case. Whether you have a rat problem, or don't know you have a rat problem, or are just looking for a new phobia so that you can sustain your insomnia, Joe's book is worth a read.
According to the author info at the end of the book, Joe plans to continue writing. I sure hope there's a sequel in the works that will address the mosquitoes or any of the other pestilent things plaguing our neighborhood!
NOTE: For a limited time, you can download Joe's book from Amazon for free! http://www.amazon.com/Rat-Hunter-ebook/dp/B00DPYEBT4/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1372953346&sr=8-2&keywords=Rat+hunter
This seemed like such a lovely neighborhood when we bought the house two years ago, but lately it's starting to feel like God is cursing us--just us--with a contemporary twist on those old-testament plagues. New, improved, and completely updated for the twenty-first century.
Swarms of mosquitoes.
Julio and his canine compadres.
I received an email last week that there's an entire community of coyotes that have taken up residence in the ravine, and I'm still not sure where we stand on the bobcat problem.
See where this bobcat is standing?
Definitely a problem.
 |
| http://photographyblog.dallasnews.com/2011/09/bobcat-stalks-north-plano-neig.html/ |
They're saying the locust will probably return at the end of the summer.
And to top it off, there's another writer in the neighborhood, and he is much, much tougher than me. He's slain vermin, lived to tell about it, written an attack manual, and already published it.
Do I resent him? No.
Envy him? No. Well, I definitely did not envy the vermin battles. The publishing, maybe a little.
The author is Joe, Cindy's husband. He is lovely. They are both lovely.
Russ will tell you that the reason we chose this house is the built-in wine rack thingy in the kitchen, but I've always felt that the real reason is Cindy and Joe. They are the people you hope you can become when you grow up. Kind, committed, compassionate, and so very real. You feel good around them, as though all is right with the world. Wouldn't you want to be neighbors with them so that you could feel that way every day?
There were several problems with my logic, though. First, living near genuinely wonderful people makes us the crazy neighbors by default, which isn't so bad. Chances are that we would have snagged that title no matter where we landed. I should have remembered, however, the lesser-known extension to this general truth: good people are often punished in pied-piper ways. This time, quite literally, it appears.
How could their awesomeness have resulted in anything BUT a rat infestation?
Nevertheless, I was surprised and impressed when Cindy told me about Joe's e-book (Rat Hunter, available on Amazon!) and I downloaded it immediately.
Before settling in to what I hoped would be mostly fictional--or at the very least, hyperbole--I decided to gauge the severity of the situation.
"Do you know anything about a rat problem around here?" I asked Russ.
"Uh, hmm. Well," he began. Oh, no.
"What? Just tell me. No. Don't tell me. Have there been... rats?"
"Well, yes. In the yard. While you were in Florida,"
"What? WHAT?! Alive or dead?"
"It was kind of hard to tell."
"DON'T TELL ME! Why didn't you TELL ME?"
"I didn't want you to freak out."
"WHY WOULD I FREAK OUT?"
Oh, God. Oh, God. All this time I thought those gray things hopping around the yard were rabbits. It's no wonder Julio goes nuts every night. All this time I've been plotting his demise, and the little fella was probably just trying to save our lives.
Joe's entertaining book describes their ordeal and how they eventually conquered rodent-kind. In between anecdotes and helpful instructions, there are some fascinating and horrifying fun facts.
I'm thrilled that they've reclaimed their independence from those horrid house-guests, but to be honest, I'm a little creeped out about the implications of their victory-- if the rats know their home is off limits, will they seek shelter in mine?
I'm glad to have access to Joe's methods, just in case. Whether you have a rat problem, or don't know you have a rat problem, or are just looking for a new phobia so that you can sustain your insomnia, Joe's book is worth a read.
According to the author info at the end of the book, Joe plans to continue writing. I sure hope there's a sequel in the works that will address the mosquitoes or any of the other pestilent things plaguing our neighborhood!
NOTE: For a limited time, you can download Joe's book from Amazon for free! http://www.amazon.com/Rat-Hunter-ebook/dp/B00DPYEBT4/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1372953346&sr=8-2&keywords=Rat+hunter
Monday, June 24, 2013
The Neighbors' Briefs
On days that we’d walk home from school, we would try to
help our neighbors by stacking the daily free Dallas Briefing newspapers to reduce
trip hazards for the owners and passers-by. When too many briefs piled up, a
week’s worth, maybe, I’d enlist the kids’ help in gathering them up and bringing
them home.
“But we’re taking something that belongs to someone else. That’s stealing,” Mia chimed in, a little too morally conscientious for the situation, if you ask me.
“Are we stealing?” Caleb asked, a little too loudly, the
first time we did this.
“We most assuredly are not,” I replied, a little too
emphatically, perhaps.“But we’re taking something that belongs to someone else. That’s stealing,” Mia chimed in, a little too morally conscientious for the situation, if you ask me.
“We are doing a kind and helpful deed for our neighbors.
What if they’re out of town? Having all these papers in their front yard is
practically advertising to the burglars. It’s an invitation to be robbed. By
gathering them up, we are doing the neighborly thing.”
They were not convinced. I had to offer further proof.
“Plus, we’re saving the earth by recycling these papers
and the bags they came in. When free things-- like this newspaper and those
pizza ads-- get loose on the lawn, it’s practically littering. Do you want to
just stand by and watch while the neighborhood gets all littery?”
Just as I’d hoped, this seemed to satisfy their
suspicion. They gathered them up and we continued walking toward home. When we
arrived at the house, they started toward the recycling bins out back.
“Wait!” I called out. “Don’t throw those out. I need to
sort through them first. We need to thank ourselves for this act of kindness by
keeping their coupons.”
Mia and Caleb set the papers down, mirrored “I told you
so” faces, and went inside.
“I’m sure they wouldn’t mind—after all, we just kept
their houses safe from burglars!” I called after them. While I combed through
the circulars for the coupons, I sent up a silent prayer that they wouldn’t
grow up to be juvenile delinquents.
Frugal delinquents are far superior to the traditional
juvenile variety, anyway.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)