Saying Hello to Club Cleon

Sarah & Angela at Club Cleon!

Back in the spring Angela started perusing real estate sites. She'd send me links to cute houses, big houses, old houses, tiny houses, houses we could never afford but loved and houses we could maybe afford but didn't want. We talked about it at length and the search for affordable real estate in Los Angeles seemed fruitless. Especially in our neighborhood. Back in December we'd gone to one open house, and the experience had been so disheartening we'd laughed it off and decided nope, not again. But with spring comes hope, and with a pandemic comes fear and we were both hopeful we could some day improve our home life and fearful we could never. 

This time Angela even went so far as to contact someone from our church we'd met who was a realtor. He sent a few listings but again, nothing piqued our interest. We are handy and we cook and we craft and we have tools but we did not want to spend our spare time drywalling and renovating. Things looked bleak. We considered a move to an apartment with central AC and couldn't even find one in Mid City that we could afford. We resigned ourselves to living at Abbey Place forever. 

And then one morning Angela asked me for a notebook. I took her to the closet where I had a stash (#writelife) and she chose a slim brown journal. She opened the first page and asked me what I would want for my perfect house in Los Angeles. What were my dreams? And so we brainstormed.

Trees. A pool. Air conditioning. A garage. Parking. Two bathrooms. We talked and she wrote and that was that. I went back to work, she opened Twitter.

And then a few days later, on a Thursday morning, she sent me a Redfin link. And that was it. Just 29 days later we would have the deed to this house and be spending our first night within its' walls. TWENTY NINE DAYS. 

The process was wild but so us. When Angela wanted a full-time teaching job and Michigan was in the middle of a recession and not hiring all the teachers they were producing, she applied for a job in Yuma, a place she'd never heard of, interviewed via phone the next day, and accepted the job that afternoon. When I was contemplating film school and a move to Los Angeles, we asked why not and jumped in with both feet immediately. When we needed a new car, we researched online, walked into the dealership and said we want that one and drove it home six hours later. When we decided what we wanted in a house Angela found it (or maybe it found us) and that was that.

She called the realtor back up and said, hey, maybe we aren't done after all, can we see this house. He arranged a visit in less than 24 hours. We donned masks and gloves and he opened all the doors and we stepped inside. The house was empty as it had been for more than six months. We were in here all of ten minutes. We social distanced. We didn't open many cupboards. We looked quickly and left. We hadn't been out of the house much since March and just this visit was a lot for us. 

Our realtor suggested if we were interested that we should put a bid in. That night. So Friday night, we put in a bid. We learned we were one of at least five other people bidding, some higher, some lower. Mom and Dad suggested going a little higher. The seller counter offered that weekend. Not just to us. We hit a financing snag. We overcame that snag together. We figured things out, and we sent in our counter. And we waited. And waited. And waited.

And then Tuesday afternoon our realtor called and put on his best well, there were a lot of people in the running voice...and told us it didn't matter because OUR OFFER WAS ACCEPTED. I screamed so loud I'm sure the sharks in the Pacific heard me. We cried. We laughed. We sat there freaked out. 

The next few weeks were a whirlwind. We would be in the house only three more times before we moved in. We met with the woman who inspected it for us, her in a respirator mask, us in masks, standing far apart, mostly outside. Then we met with a pool inspector, again in masks, again, outside around the pool, for just a few moments. And finally we'd do a last walkthrough right before signing closing papers. All the paperwork was done online until last week. And it all went so fast and was so stressful but so worth it (even the blood sample Mom kept offering up next!). 

And finally it was the week of the move. And the pandemic was getting worse again. We'd only had to meet with three people total for this whole process and we'd all social distancing and worn our protective gear. But last week there was another money snafu. Which required Angela to go into two banks. This was scary but necessary (because although most of the economy is apparently reopen, banks are not. And bankers are not working at most banks (tellers are, learned that the hard way) and some aren't even open). But again we persevered and kept ourselves safe and got that wire transfer done! A traveling notary took the papers to Mom and Dad's house in Michigan to keep them safe and another brought the papers to Abbey Place to keep us safe. And then...we found out there was a filing deadline in California. After you sign your closing papers you do not get the keys. You wait 24 hours and then the deed is filed with the county and THEN you get the keys. 

By this point it was Thursday afternoon. We had the movers scheduled for Friday morning. We had the internet scheduled to switch on Friday at 12:01am. We had the entire house packed. And we weren't sure what to do. 

So we drove to the beach. We sat in the car and we looked at the waves and we smelled the salt water. And then we drove home.

And Friday morning about 15 minutes before the movers arrived we got the call that we owned the house! This is so us. We make a decision, and we plan, and we do it. And some how it works. Some how. Some miracle. 

The movers were great and safe. We socially distanced and wore masks all day. (Those expensive N95 masks we got at the pharmacy, and yes, mine broke about two hours in...)We used reusable green moving boxes that were delivered to us in a contactless manner. We found a locksmith who said safety was her biggest concern, who wore a mask and kept the doors open as she rekeyed the locks for us. We found a plumber who's suppling his employees with PPE and requiring them to get tested regularly. We had the requisite termite work done but it was all outside. So far we've felt very safe and very pleased with pulling off a move in the middle of a pandemic. We've had lots more time to pack and organize but it's been hard not being able to run to the hardware store or collect used boxes from stores or invite our friends in for a housewarming. But we're figuring it out. 

Another part of this that's been strange is sharing our news. For months now, life has been really really hard for so many. And in so many ways. So many people have lost their jobs and their homes and more importantly, their friends and family members, to this pandemic. And while we've had rough, hard days, we have been so privileged to get to stay safer at home, to get to keep a paycheck coming in, to get to order food that arrives relatively quickly, to get to have most of the people we know safe and secure. And so we had some guilt around this good news. We didn't want to share our move publicly until it was a sure thing but we wanted to tell some family and friends about it as we progressed through the process. And there was some fear and hesitation tied to that...

Ultimately, it's been a positive experience, particularly emotionally. EVERYONE has been supportive and excited for us and that's been so lovely to experience. We've needed this move, we've wanted this move, for so long. So many of you know we loved Abbey Place but we also despised it. We were constantly worried that the landlord would give us 30 days notice (as was his legal right, kinda...) and we'd have to move out. The sink was falling in and no plumber or handyman could convince us that the leaks were acceptable. The wiring was suspicious from day one. The bathroom and closets and bedroom walls had serious mold issues that we couldn't keep at bay. The list goes on...but still, with so many hurting and dying, we felt guilt at aspiring to this new home. Should we save the money. Should we give it away. Should we not share our joy. So many questions sat in our soul. 

Ultimately, we decided we had to move, we were fortunate enough that it all worked out and it was meant to be, because of so many factors. Living frugally for 12 years. Having amazing parents. Being smart about expectations. We know we are privileged and we acknowledge that. We name it and we try to continue to give back in other ways.

And now, with the Safer at Home order still in place, or again depending on who you ask, and with school going virtual in the fall again, we are so grateful for this space we have. For this air conditioning. For these windows (one word: mosquitoes). For this pool. For these walls and this safety. For all that we have.

Abbey Place will never be forgotten. But Club Cleon is the new, better, brighter, reality. And we love it! It is bright and shiny and new-ish (so far we've found ants, a broken door handle, lots of touchups to be done, and the plumber comes back Wednesday to fix a whole laundry list of items). And it is ours. The Knapps are now bi-coastal. And we cannot wait to invite you all INSIDE! 

Saying Goodbye to Abbey Place

We'll always love you Abbey Place!

We lived on Abbey Place for 11 years, 10 months and 21 days. It was inside of these walls that we laughed, slept, cried, screamed with delight, pounded our fists with frustration, spent thousands of hours talking with friends, hosted party after party, and lived our every day lives. Eating dinner in the living room, putting together jigsaw puzzles at the dining room table, making food to nourish our bodies and our souls in the kitchen, healed while lying in the beds, exercised while walking miles around the yard and the loop in the house. Writing screenplay after screenplay, studying, reading, posting, dancing, viewing, consuming, breathing, resting. So much resting. Abbey Place is where we met Betty, Bill, and Mary. Abbey Place is where we welcomed family from across the country and the continent. Abbey Place has been our home. And it has been an amazing home. It has been an amazing storage space for us with built-in closets and a garage and a yard. It is where we’ve grilled and grown food and washed our cars and watched the cats and hummingbirds for hours on end. It is where we felt safe. It is where our friends knew they could come when they needed to. It was always open and ready to receive. And now we have left it.

Moving is never easy. Even in the best of circumstances. You have to confront the why, the how, the details. At the very least you have to say goodbye. And then there’s the packing. And the cleaning. And the parting with what really should not go. And then you promise you will not forget. Because it’s rarely about the physical space. It’s always about the memories. The growth. The relationships. The stories.

I can tell you the exact spot where I killed every large spider. Some remains haunt the paint. Some remains haunt my mind. I can point out to you the plastered over wall where a termite popped out our first year there. I will never unsee the rats brought down out of the attic or the lizards under my bed or the earthworms in the middle of the carpet. The raccoons who played with the marshmallows in the trap outside instead of eating them will always have a place in my heart.

I know exactly where I was standing when Angela took my picture before I headed off to my first day of filming on The Couch. I think about how my dad drilled storage racks into the tiny bathroom our first night here. I knew right where to lie on my bed to get the sun on my legs but not on my face during the afternoon summers. I can tell you precisely where I was seated when my dear Trace called to tell me to go to the ER because she feared I had blood clots. I still smile as I think about every single conversation I had while seated around the table surrounded by people I love.

The backyard when we moved into Abbey Place

Moving is never easy. But sometimes it is exciting. When we moved from Yuma to Los Angeles on August 20, 2008 we knew an adventure was waiting. And that it has been. Jobs. Careers. Graduate degrees. Scripts. Web series. Relationships. Loss. Sickness. Healing. Life was rarely boring on Abbey Place. And when it was, we thanked God for that too. For the quiet winters when we locked up early, ate dinner at five and went to bed at nine-thirty. For the hot summer mornings that started before six because the sun was up and the trash trucks were on the move.

And this next move will be the best one yet, I’m sure of it. We’ve been pinching ourselves over the past three weeks (yes! all of this has transpired over just THREE WEEKS!). The world has changed, we’ve changed, our needs have changed. We can’t tolerate the increasingly hot weather as well as we once did. We need different types of exercise. We want more than just existence. We want comfort and happiness and contentment. And we pray that Club Cleon will be all of that and more.

There are checkmarks in both the plus and minus columns. We will no longer have a landlord. But we will be responsible for so much more. We will have air conditioning and a pool. But we will have more bills to fret over. We will not be where we’ve felt safe and comfortable for these past almost 12 years. But we will find that again. We are sure of it.

The backyard when we moved out of Abbey Place

This move came at the best time and the worst time. We are excited to create a space of our own we can thrive in for however long this pandemic endures. We can’t wait to have every single person we love and miss come visit and swim and eat and talk around the new, larger, dining room table. We were scared for movers and worker-type people to enter our walls. But we know this is the next step. This is what happens when you want more. When you work for and strive for more. You get more. And you work more. Physically. Emotionally. Spiritually. You tax yourself but you reward yourself.

We are so grateful for all Abbey Place has given us. And we can’t wait to learn what Club Cleon has in store for us.