Meet Our Maples Pioneers

April 17, 2013
by Caryl Dierksen
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Neighbors

Even relatively new communities like ours have a history, albeit a short one. When I get curious about the good old days, I turn to our pioneers, Bud and Elly. They moved in five years ago last month, when only one other home was occupied. Those very first residents are no longer here, leaving Bud and Elly our longest tenured homeowners.

Like many of my neighbors, Bud and Elly moved to Woodstock to be near family. In 1994, their daughter and her family had moved to a subdivision on McConnell Road in rural Woodstock.

Several years later, their daughter began telling them about the nice new ranch homes just down the street from her. They really ought to come look at them, she said. She was referring to the other Epcon community that some of us visited before buying here.

Bud and Elly liked the homes, but the locations of the only lots available did not appeal to them. Then they learned there was a newer Epcon community just starting on the north edge of Woodstock. And that was how, in 2007, they arrived at Maples at the Sonatas.

On Bud and Elly’s first visit, they met with Kim in a trailer that had just been set up as her sales office. It was located where building 26 now stands. “There was nothing but dirt, mud, and the trailer,” Elly said. “There was one short street,” Bud added. “It wasn’t even blacktopped yet.”

But there were advantages to this brand new community. The preconstruction pricing was attractive, and there was a better selection of lots. Bud and Elly chose one facing a small creek. There were sticks in the ground marking where the corners of their building, a Canterbury-Abbey quad, would be.

“Kim took us out there and said this will be the view from your veranda,” Elly said. “We were just standing there in the mud.” It was hard to visualize.

They went back to the Epcon community on McConnell Road to look at models, since there were none here. They decided on an Abbey and signed the contract in March 2007.

Bud and Elly remember sitting in Kim’s trailer choosing upgrades and finishes from the samples she had. They selected their appliances from catalogs and took pictures and model numbers to stores to try to see what they had chosen.

At the time they bought, building 1, a Villa-Chateau quad, was under construction. Soon work began on Bud and Elly’s building, 24, as well as building 25, another Abbey-Canterbury quad. (If you would like to see the location of these buildings, click on this map.)

map

The construction process took longer in those days. It would be a year before Bud and Elly closed on their Abbey in March 2008. They visited regularly and took pictures, some of which accompany this post. It was also during this year that our clubhouse was built.

When they moved in, there was no landscaping at all around their home. That would come two or three months later. Bud remembered, “It was a bit of an unusual experience. We sat outside at night and could hear coyotes.”

During their first year here, Elly and Bud picked up a few neighbors, but the housing recession was looming and growth was slow. The community was already having monthly coffee socials, but only a handful of owners would attend. They tried starting a book club, but couldn’t make it work with the small number of residents.

It is difficult to believe that now, five years after Bud and Elly pioneered our community, we have a thriving book club of a dozen members and monthly coffees that nearly overflow the clubhouse.

I’m only guessing, of course, but I imagine the next five years could bring even more change to our young community.

Sounds of Silence

April 13, 2013
by Caryl Dierksen
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Growth/Sales / Mostly Musings

Maples at the Sonatas is usually a nice, quiet place. Visitors and newcomers often comment on it. The rest of us have come to take the tranquility for granted. But we shouldn’t. Being able to hear yourself think is a wonderful thing and all too rare.

We are a peaceful enclave, 24 acres carved from The Sonatas, a larger, separate subdivision of mostly two-story, single-family homes. But once I drive down Schumann St. into our community, I am no longer aware of those other homes. We are also far enough removed from Route 47, our nearest major highway, that we may occasionally hear sirens in the distance but never any traffic.

Here we are more rural than suburban. I can still feel the cornfields and prairie that not too long ago defined the space where our homes now stand. If you leave a window open at night, you may even hear the howling of coyotes.

Last fall, a neighbor had a surprise visitor when a fox stopped by her yard. The fox spent 20 minutes eating birdseed that had fallen from a feeder and posing for pictures before ambling off.

When the sound of honking does break our normal silence, rest assured it will be the honking of geese flying over, not the honking of cars. While there is, of course, some traffic on our streets, there still isn’t very much. We recognize each other’s vehicles and even those of the families and frequent visitors of our neighbors. Likewise, we tend to take note when a stranger drives by.

ducks

I’ve seen ducks safely waddling down my street. In fact, I too love walking down the middle of my street without a thought of being run over. Or if I’m driving and see someone I want to talk to, I can stop, lower the window, and chat without disturbing anyone.

Our only traffic jam, as far as I can remember, occurred one evening when Gary, our former construction manager, came to check on the progress of a home being built. One of his staff here had been taken to the hospital that morning. Several of us recognized Gary’s car, walked over, and stopped him to ask about Steve. A neighbor driving toward us did the same, causing a one-car back up when a third car came along. The driver of the blocked car wanted the news on Steve too, so she got out of her car and walked over to join us. Our traffic jam ended without a hint of road rage.

Yes, most of the time, it is blissfully quiet and peaceful here. But then, one day, you’ll see a couple of men using what looks like surveying equipment on an empty lot. They are “shooting grades,” a term I’ve added to my vocabulary since moving here. Grade shooting is the first sign of new construction. Soon our ducks and geese will temporarily be replaced by Bobcats and Deere.

deere

To be continued…

During the next few months, I will have an up-close view of the construction of a new quad on the empty field across from my driveway. Rest assured, the interest/education factor of construction outweighs any inconvenience. I’m looking forward to sharing my view of the building process with you.

A Full House and Four of a Kind

April 7, 2013
by Caryl Dierksen
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Social Life

Our Spring Brunch potluck yesterday produced several firsts for Maples at the Sonatas. We had our largest turnout ever for a social event—42 people. Planned and hosted by our sales team of Kathy and Carol, it began as an expanded version of our monthly Coffee and Conversation and grew into a sprawling, sociable gathering that overflowed our seating capacity. But everyone was having such a good time that no one seemed to mind.

When our social committee bought folding tables and chairs a year and a half ago, we thought that seating for 12 more people would be enough for a while. Well, it wasn’t yesterday. Carol and Kathy ate brunch standing behind the breakfast bar. Of course, that did put them right by the food, which was also in danger of overflowing its space on both levels of our breakfast bar. A neighbor tried pulling a bar stool up to the pool table when we literally ran out of chairs, even with the office chairs.

And what a bounty of food it was. Breakfast casseroles of several sorts, biscuits and gravy, bacon, ham, and potatoes were just the beginning. Several fresh fruit salads, homemade breads, pastries…. Well, you get the idea, and I’m only making myself hungry trying to describe it. It was a feast worthy of a cookbook, and it might just produce one. Numerous requests for recipes led to the idea of a collection of recipes to share—and a volunteer to organize them.

Also for the first time, we wore nametags to help old and new alike. Just first names wouldn’t do either, with three Bobs present. And another first, we Carols—with a variety of spellings—finally outnumbered the Bobs.

In addition to homeowners, we also had more visitors than ever before. An owner’s daughter and an owner-to-be’s brother were more than welcome, but it was the new owners who truly swelled our ranks. Last month we met three new owner couples. Yesterday their number expanded to include, I believe, seven people who haven’t closed on their homes yet but will in the next few months. It was fun watching budding friendships form as people mingled and found common interests.

This infusion of new people brings us a variety of talents, as well as neighbors willing to pitch in. We have picked up a new member for the social committee, a new worker for our community garden, more help with the swimming pool, and a volunteer to put together a neighborhood directory.

Yes, we assured the new owners, we really do get together like this the first Saturday of every month, though the large potluck is a quarterly event. At our other coffees, you don’t even have to bring anything because the pastries are generously contributed by Wilcox Communities. And yes, you really will receive a free flat of annuals to plant around your home at our Flower Power coffee next month.

So we laughed a lot yesterday. Then something happened way at the end that nearly moved me to tears. A new neighbor of maybe three months said to me, “We are so blessed to have found this community.”

She was exactly right. I thanked her for reminding me.

Finally, if you are reading this and want to join us, don’t worry. We’ll be happy to squeeze you in.

•••

The “Carols” pose for a picture that is representative of our gathering yesterday. From left, we have Carolyn, who is under contract but hasn’t closed; Carol, who sold the home; Caryl, who qualifies as an old owner because she has been here two years; and Carol, a new owner who moved in a couple of months ago.

Sales Go BOOM!

April 4, 2013
by Caryl Dierksen
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Growth/Sales

It was obvious that something big was going on. So often during the past month, I would look out a window and see a lot more cars than usual in the parking lot by our clubhouse. There were also more people walking around the neighborhood, either with Kathy, our sales assistant, or on their own, studying maps and heading from one model to the next.

Yesterday, near the end of her workday, I finally managed to find Carol Lyons, our sales consultant, alone in her office. I went in and asked her, What in the world is going on?

I’m having fun, she said with a smile. And she did look energized, not exhausted, by the pace she has been keeping. She checked her computer and shared the numbers that tell the story.

• During the month of March, Carol and Kathy had 63 “traffics,” meaning groups of one or more buyers visiting. Some of them were new, while others had been here previously.

• During the month of March, Carol sold 6 homes. In other words, one of every 10 visits produced a sale.

• During the month of March, Carol sold all of her inventory homes. If a buyer came in today with cash in hand and a desire to move immediately, he or she would have a choice of exactly one home. Only the Abbey model is available for immediate possession. But that one, Carol wants you to know, is a really good deal!

Yes, March was the best month Carol has had in her two and a half years here. But how did you do this? I asked her. What’s changed?

Carol explained that several factors have come together recently to produce this perfect storm of sales. First, the weather. Even though it hasn’t been that warm, March still signals the end of winter and brings out more potential buyers.

Second, the new Wilcox Communities website has made it easier for buyers from all over to find information about our homes and community. Carol routinely receives queries from people living out of state as well as nearby. Also, the company’s increased use of social media has helped people connect with Maples at the Sonatas.

Probably most important of all, interest rates have remained low, while the inventory of homes on the market is at a seven-year low. Therefore, it has become easier for Carol’s buyers to sell their former homes, and they are getting more for them. Because it has become a seller’s market, buyers now arrive with more of a sense of urgency.

So the building season is in full swing here, as construction works to keep up with sales. If it were a contest (which it is not), my money would be on Carol. She has had three closings so far this year. Sixteen more are in backlog waiting to close. She is now selling Abbeys and Canterburies that haven’t been built yet.

Just to be safe, I’m not going to leave my car sitting out. The way Carol is going, I’m afraid she might sell it too!

map

This is the map of our community as of April 4. Red buttons mark sold homes; blue ones are homes for sale. However, only one of those blue homes is finished and ready for sale. (To see a larger version of the map, click on the picture.)

A Dozen Muffins

March 29, 2013
by Caryl Dierksen
comments 4
Mostly Musings / Neighbors

I was looking for something else in my pantry when I found the package of pumpkin spice muffin mix. Not just any muffin mix, it looked high end, probably from a specialty shop. It was a Christmas gift that I had decided to save for a special occasion. Then it kept getting pushed farther back on the shelf until I forgot I had it.

I couldn’t help feeling a bit guilty when I saw it, unused, three months later. So I called the friend who had given it to me. Yes, she said, she would love to stop over later for coffee and a muffin.

Soon my kitchen smelled like Thanksgiving. And when I pulled the pan of 12 perfect muffins from my oven, it was clear that they were something special. I set four of them aside to serve that afternoon. But that left eight still-warm muffins calling to me.

So I wrapped a towel around the pan with the muffins still in it, put on my coat and mittens, and stepped out into the cold, windy March day. I headed for our clubhouse, my usual spot for getting rid of too-tempting treats.

Barely out of my driveway, I ran into Sylvia walking her dog Bandit. What’s that? she asked. Muffins, I answered. Want one? She smiled and nodded. How about one for Joe too? I asked. But she obviously could not carry two muffins in her mittened hands while also holding Bandit’s leash. That’s OK, I said. I’ll drop two off on my way home.

I hurried toward the clubhouse, using the muffin tin as a hand warmer. As soon as I walked in the door, I ran into Kathy, our sales assistant. Want a muffin? I asked. Thanks, she said. I’m helping Kaye right now. Want to meet a new neighbor? And as soon as he gets off the phone, I can introduce you to our new guy too.

I went over to greet my soon-to-be neighbor and offered her a muffin. I really shouldn’t, she said, but accepted one anyway. After we chatted for a few minutes, I knew she would fit in here just fine.

I looked into the office and saw “the new guy” had finished his phone call, so I went over to introduce myself. Mitch, our new construction manager, shook my hand and said he would love a muffin. He set it aside for later, then asked me about my home. It’s great, I said. I love it. But my one-year warrantee has been up for a while, so you won’t have to do anything for me. OK, he said, but I’d still like to know how your experience has been. Any problems? None at all, I assured him and let him get back to work.

Feeling a blast of cold air, I looked over and saw Dee and Steve walk in. Dee lives next door to me and is my go-to person for decorating advice. Steve is a staff member who takes care of warrantee repairs for homeowners, does trim work on new homes, and knows how to fix anything around here.

Want a muffin? I asked them. I would love one, Dee said. But Steve, whom I had never known to turn down food, shook his head no. He held up two grimy, greasy hands, and I saw the problem. How about if I peel the paper off one and put it in your hand? OK, he said, and I did. A couple of minutes later, he was eating it as he went back outside.

I didn’t want to leave without giving Carol, our sales consultant, a muffin, but she wasn’t in her office. She was showing an out-of-town buyer around—something she’s been doing a lot of recently. I left her muffin next to her computer.

Then it was back out into the cold, with my two remaining muffins. I dropped them off with Joe and Sylvia and hurried home. When I walked in my door, I glanced at the clock. It was amazing. I had been out and about talking with people for almost 45 minutes. And that’s one of my favorite things about living here.

No, it doesn’t happen every single time I walk out my door. But it does more often than you might expect. And as our weather finally warms up, I look forward to more of these friendly neighborhood chance encounters.

Catching Up With Jamie Wilcox

March 24, 2013
by Caryl Dierksen
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Wilcox People

I met Jamie Wilcox in August 2010. I had returned to Maples at the Sonatas to take pictures of the Abbey that I would buy within a month. When I walked into the clubhouse, I expected to find the sales rep Jon, but he wasn’t there. A young man greeted me, said that Jon had the day off, and introduced himself as Jamie Wilcox. I looked at him blankly. After a pause, he said, “I’m the builder.”

The words too young flitted through my mind, but I kept them to myself. We walked across the street, and then I had the privilege of a personal tour of my future home with the president of the company that built it. Shortly into the tour, Jamie stopped seeming so young.

Viewing my Abbey through his insights and perspective made for a fascinating experience. It is, unfortunately, an experience rarely available to today’s buyers. And that lack of personal contact concerns Jamie.

•••

Last week Jamie returned to my home for a conversation for this blog. He brought with him Ember, his marketing director, and Leigh, his new vice president of sales and marketing. The four of us, plus my cat Angie, sat in my living room while Jamie answered my questions about the beginning of Wilcox Communities, its growth, and its future.

The story starts in Columbus, Ohio, where Jamie was living and where Epcon is based. “I was looking for the next chapter in my life when I met some people from Epcon,” he said. Their talks led to his decision to become an Epcon builder partner. To clarify, Epcon Communities owns the designs for our homes and communities. But Epcon doesn’t build them. Their builder partners do that.

Jamie, along with his father Randy, founded the company in 2002, and started with a single community in Joliet. Several years later, Jamie’s brother, Jonathan, would become the third partner. After surviving the lean times after the real estate downturn of 2008, Wilcox has grown to 20 communities, with more in the plans.

Jamie exhibits a quiet pride in his success, but he does not seem unduly impressed by it. When others comment on how much he has accomplished at age 36, he points out that he did not meet his original goal.

When he started the business, he thought it would have been larger by now. But in 2002, no one had expected the home construction industry to go through several very tough years. That downturn forced him to lower his expectations. However, things are back on track now. In recent years, the company has grown at a rate of 100 percent per year.

Despite having a degree in accounting, Jamie measures his success with more than just numbers. “What we do is needed,” he said. He referred to his typical buyers—those looking for maintenance-free ranch homes—as “a large, underserved part of the housing market.”

Ironically, Jamie’s success is stealing away the time he can devote to his favorite part of his job—getting to know the people in his communities. But Jamie is not going to let those personal relationships go without a fight.

When he was here last week, he stopped by our book club meeting to greet the members. He knew nine of the 10 present and made a point of introducing himself to the one he hadn’t met.

She brought up a problem she was having with her carpet. Listening intently, he asked a couple of questions and nodded at her answers. When she said that she had forgotten to include the item on her one-year warrantee checklist, he said, “That’s OK. I’ll add it for you.”

Jamie may not be physically present as often as in the past, but he is still on top of what’s going on in his communities. He leads a meeting for each at a set time every week. Topics include construction, financing, sales, and anything else involved in building a community. Many of those meetings take the form of conference calls to reduce the amount of time he must spend on the road.

With properties stretching across Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, Missouri, Alabama, North Carolina, and Tennessee, Jamie still must travel more than he would like. Those trips take precious time away from his wife and young children, who are 5, 3, and 2.

Looking to the future, Jamie said his company is at a crossroads. “It has grown to have a large geographical footprint,” he said. “But where do we grow from here? What’s the endgame? I don’t know.

“I’m always anxious about what’s next and next and next. I’m the most driven, competitive person you’ve met.”

•••

Jamie paid one of his more memorable visits to our community last year. The homeowners had planned a surprise party for our two award winners at the 2012 Epcon Conference. My neighbor Ollie Stolberg was named Lifestyle Ambassador, and Carol Lyons, our sales consultant, won Rookie of the Year. Jamie not only attended the party, he was instrumental in pulling off the surprise. In the photo below, he and Ollie chat during the party.

jamie ollie

Joe and Sylvia move from Hoffman Estates to Woodstock—via Tucson

March 19, 2013
by Caryl Dierksen
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Moving / Neighbors

Today’s post is another in a series of stories detailing how my neighbors found their way to Maples at the Sonatas.

In 2009, retired librarians Joe and Sylvia were happy with their living situation. Their primary home was a townhome in Hoffman Estates, and they also owned a vacation home on a lake in Wisconsin.

That March, they took a trip to Tucson, Ariz., and fell in love with the area and the climate. One day, while were driving around, they spotted a for sale sign in front of a condo that appealed to them.

On a whim, they arranged to go through the home. Long story short, they liked it a lot. It had a great back yard with a hot tub and was in a nice neighborhood. It was priced reasonably too. They found a local realtor and viewed the place three times during that week.

The condo remained on their minds after Joe and Sylvia went home. Wouldn’t it be possible, they wondered, to keep their Wisconsin cabin for the summers and spend winters in Arizona?

•••

That was exactly what they decided to do. They started by listing their townhome in Hoffman Estates. To their amazement, they received an offer at the full asking price just two weeks later. It seemed too good to be true, and in hindsight it was.

At the same time, they made an offer on the Arizona condo and negotiated a price with the seller. They used phone, email, and fax to complete the entire deal. “We were mentally placing our furniture in the new place,” Sylvia said. “We started selling furniture and other possessions that we wouldn’t be taking. We were giving other things away or storing them.”

In the meantime, their Illinois agent said everything was going fine with their deal to sell the old place, despite the contract being contingent on their buyer selling her house.

But things were not fine. Their buyer said she needed just a little more time because her buyer was selling her property to a business that would require a zoning change. The closing kept being delayed.

By June, Joe and Sylvia had rented a truck, lined up friends to help load the truck, and found another friend to share the driving to Arizona. Everything was packed up ready to go on the truck. All the paperwork was ready for their closing once they got to Arizona. They had contacted all of the utilities there to set up new service.

One day before their closing in Hoffman Estates, their lawyer told Joe he didn’t think it would happen the next day. All the color drained from Joe’s face. With heavy hearts, he and Sylvia canceled the moving truck and the utilities in Tucson.

From then, it was a series of bad news events until, finally, the whole deal collapsed.

Then they lost the new place in Arizona. They still owned their townhouse in Hoffman Estates, but they didn’t want to live there. “We had already checked out of that place,” Sylvia said. “We couldn’t put the home back together. Too much was gone, given away, sold, just gone.”

•••

Unsure what to do next, they decided to look for another townhome “out of suburbia, a place in a nice little town.” They both did some online research and, independently, came up with Woodstock. Then Maples at the Sonatas popped up as a possibility for housing, along with others.

On their way home from a July 4 weekend in Wisconsin, they stopped here and met Jamie Wilcox, our builder and owner of Wilcox Communities. As he took them around, they were impressed with the Canterbury model and the clubhouse. Then he showed them a Canterbury that was finished but was under a contingent contract. They liked it and its location.

On their next visit, Jon, the sales agent, assured them that the changes they would want in the Canterbury—blinds, ceiling fans, upgraded carpet—could all be made. “But we hadn’t sold our other place,” Sylvia said. “We had the will to buy, but not the money.”

Then they unexpectedly received another offer for their old place, one from the same buyer and with the same contingency. They were assured that the same obstacles would not be a factor, but again the process bogged down with delays.

Finally, a realtor who lived here suggested a creative financing option that would work for Joe and Sylvia. They closed on their Canterbury in October and moved in just before Thanksgiving, 2009.

•••

End of the story? Not quite. Joe and Sylvia already had plans to go to Arkansas for Thanksgiving. They had moved in their furniture, but nearly all the rest of their possessions were in boxes in their garage. Fortunately, they had met their neighbor Jody and exchanged phone numbers before leaving on the 10-hour drive.

Shortly after they arrived, they received a call from Jody asking if they had meant to leave their garage door open. She closed it for them, but they cut their trip short and returned. Some investigation revealed a programming issue with their opener.

Joe and Sylvia’s positive buying experience, along with the helpfulness of a neighbor they barely knew, confirmed that they had chosen the right community for their new home.

“We didn’t look at homes anywhere else but here,” Sylvia said. “Jamie and Jon were just so wonderful, why would we consider anywhere else?”

•••

In April 2010, Joe and Sylvia’s home in Hoffman Estates finally sold—to a different buyer. Nearly three years later, they must have recovered from the long, painful experience of selling it. Now they are planning to sell their home in Wisconsin.

Let the Sun Shine In

March 9, 2013
by Caryl Dierksen
comments 2
Home Elements/Decorating

Most mornings, you’ll find me sitting at the bistro table in my sunroom. I’ll be sipping my Keurig Dark Magic coffee, reading the newspaper, and watching my neighborhood begin the day. My cat Angie keeps me company, dozing on top of her cat tree. And best of all for this retired teacher, I’ll glance out a window, see a school bus go by in the distance, and remember just how sweet my life is.

I know that the veranda of the Abbey and Canterbury models is not considered a bonus room. That term is reserved for the optional, second-floor suite of the unattached homes. Yet my sunroom, as I usually call it, is a genuine bonus to me.

Here’s how I see it. A house has to have, at minimum, a living room, kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom. Most homes include a second bedroom and bath, if not more of both. But a sunroom is not a requirement. So it feels like a gift, a 200 square-foot luxury for me to customize however I want.

I believe the sunroom is the most versatile room in our homes. In terms of decorating, it works equally well with a formal feel or a casual one. It can be an extension of the living room, a den or office, a library, a TV room, or a combination of any of these. It could also be a porch, with blinds, a tile floor, wicker furniture, and plants. It can even make a great playroom for grandchildren.

My sunroom was the last room that I furnished. That is simply because I needed all of my furniture in my other rooms. Since I am one of the few people here who upsized rather than downsized, I literally had nothing left for the sunroom. For a couple of months, all I had out there was folding chairs, a few odds and ends that didn’t fit elsewhere, and Angie’s cat furniture.

By the time I was able to buy some new pieces for the sunroom, I had worked out my vision for it. My sunroom is a space for reading, for listening to music, for conversation with friends. Once I decided that, I knew how to furnish it. I also knew what I did not want. There is not a TV or a clock in the room.

On a sunny day, there is no brighter, more cheerful place in our homes. But what about dark winter days? I still spend a lot of time out there because the design of the sunroom takes cold weather into account. If you look up at the ceiling, you will see there are more heating vents than anywhere else in the house. And on really nasty Illinois winter days, I turn on my electric heater that is disguised as a mini wood-burning stove.

Yes, my sunroom is often filled with the laughter of friends. Two of my girlfriends nicknamed it “The Bistro” and gave me a bistro sign to make it official.

But my sunroom is just as appealing when I am home alone. Sometimes I’ll dock my iPhone on its speakers and crank up the ‘60s and ‘70s music of my youth. There’s nothing better than grooving to “Let the Sun Shine in” … while it actually does.

Random Thoughts on a Snowy Afternoon

March 5, 2013
by Caryl Dierksen
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Mostly Musings

Here in Woodstock, we take the minor holiday of Groundhog Day very seriously. We are proud that the movie, “Groundhog Day,” starring Bill Murray and Andie McDowell, was filmed almost entirely in our town. Since the film was released in 1993, there has always been a celebration on Feb. 2 on our town square. Every year the highlight is Woodstock Willie, our local groundhog, emerging from a tree stump and making his prognostication.

With Groundhog Day falling on the same Saturday as our monthly Coffee and Conversation this year, we decided to hold our own event. The closest we could come to an actual groundhog was my neighbor Ollie’s Yorkie. In his brown sweater, Oliver was at least an approximation of a groundhog. And he gamely went out into the cold so we could check for a shadow.

But here’s the problem. Neither Woodstock Willie nor Oliver saw his shadow that morning. So how could their predictions of an early spring have gone so wrong? It has now snowed on 23 of the past 35 days. And today we are having our fourth significant snowfall of the past month.

Now, Oliver’s miscue could be excused because, while he did not see his shadow, he did see his reflection in the glass of our clubhouse door. Perhaps that is all it took to throw him off. But what is Woodstock Wille’s excuse?

•••

One of my favorite poems about snow is Wallace Stevens’ 13 Ways of Looking at a Blackbird. As I sit here in my cozy sunroom gazing outside, I’m especially reminded of this stanza:

“It was evening all afternoon.

It was snowing

And it was going to snow.”

With huge apologies to the poet, I would like to paraphrase another of his stanzas:

I do not know which to prefer,

The beauty of the falling snow

Or the beauty of the Langford Group truck plowing it.

The clean, untouched snow on my sidewalks

Or the cheerful man shoveling it.

Different Journeys, Same Destination

February 28, 2013
by Caryl Dierksen
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Moving / Neighbors

After I wrote my first post on how I came to buy my home, some of my neighbors began sharing their experiences with me. I soon realized there is a good story behind almost all of our purchases. From time to time, I plan to share their stories with you. Here are the first two.

First, we have Art and Lynn, the couple I wrote about in an earlier post. Lynn remembers their many, many trips out here, dating back to the very early days of Maples at the Sonatas. When they first visited, our clubhouse had not been built. As a matter of fact, Jon’s sales office was in a trailer located on the exact spot where their new home stands today.

Lynn said, “We sat in the Canterbury and Abbey models for hours. I dreamed about my Canterbury, but Art wasn’t ready to live this lifestyle yet. It took us three years before we made our deposit. We made many trips to go through the models before it happened for us, but now we are moving in in a few short weeks.”

There was one more step on Art and Lynn’s journey—selling their current home. During that time, they leased their Canterbury back to Wilcox Communities for use as a model.

Though they weren’t here yet, they planted flowers in the spring and put up a Christmas tree for the holidays. They have been as active in our community as anyone who lives here.

•••

 Ollie also waited a long time—in fact, much longer—to move to her new Canterbury. About 10 years ago, before Maples at the Sonatas even existed, she visited the other Epcon community in Woodstock. She looked through all of the models, but she fell in love with the Canterbury, especially with its openness and its sunroom. She was ready to buy on the spot.

So she took her husband to see the Canterbury. While he liked it, he wasn’t at all ready to move. He didn’t want to leave their large, longtime home out in the country. She loved him, and that house too, so she was not unhappy staying there.

Here’s how Ollie continued the story. “But when my husband died several years later, I was left with 6+ acres, the house, the pastures, the lawn to mow, and the snow to plow. It was too much for me. I had to move.”

With sons in Wisconsin and the Quad Cities, and relatives in Florida, Ollie briefly considered leaving the area. But only briefly. Once she decided to stay here, she knew exactly where she wanted to live.

“I came here to the Maples and met with Jon,” she said. “I told him I wanted to buy a Canterbury. He asked if I didn’t want to look at others models too, and I said, sure, you can show them to me, and then you can sell me a Canterbury.”

And it wasn’t just any Canterbury that Ollie wanted to buy. She really wanted the one being used as the model. But it was already owned and not for sale. So she chose a location and had a new one built. “And I made this one darned near a twin to the other one,” she said.

While most of us spent months, if not years, deciding to move here, Ollie almost certainly holds the record for least time spent mulling things over. Has she ever regretted her haste? “Oh, Lord, no,” she said. “I’ve not regretted it for a moment. I’ve had no second thoughts. I truly love everything about my home.”

home now sign

A Bear for All Seasons

February 22, 2013
by Caryl Dierksen
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Pictures

When Diana and Bob moved into their Portico, they couldn’t find just the right spot in their new home for the large stuffed bear they had brought with them. So their furry brown conversation piece moved to the entryway of our community clubhouse.

I have to admit, the bear was rather intimidating at first, standing over five feet tall on his hind legs. Many of us were a little startled when we walked in the door and unexpectedly saw him just a few feet away.

It wasn’t too long, though, before someone tied a scarf around his neck. Suddenly, the bear looked friendlier. The next logical step was giving him a complete outfit. And shortly after he began wearing clothes, the bear was accepted as our mascot.

The final step was changing his outfit to fit the various seasons and holidays. Over the past year, Linda, Ollie, and Jody have all served as bear costumers. Their work has been amazingly creative, as you will see in these pictures.

Welcome to my neighborhood

February 18, 2013
by Caryl Dierksen
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Neighbors / Social Life

It was nine o’clock on a hot July night. My neighborhood was quiet except for the hum of air conditioners. I was opening a window to check if it had cooled off enough to open up the house, when I spotted movement across the street.

In the shadows cast by a streetlight, I saw two of my neighbors slowly emptying buckets of water onto the roots of a spruce tree. I called to them from my patio. “What are you doing?”

“We’re watering the Bob tree,” one said. “It’s not going to make it much longer if we don’t.” They had to be right. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d had a substantial rainfall.

I hurried to the garage for my own buckets. Soon I was part of what turned into a five-person watering brigade. Back and forth we walked from the nearest outdoor spigot. The Bob and the Pat trees were in danger. They were not going to die on our watch.

•••

I was still feeling a sense of loss over the deaths of two well-liked and respected neighbors. We had lost Bob in February and Pat in March. In April, on Earth Day, our community planted a tree in honor of each of them, trees generously donated by our builder, Jamie Wilcox.

Holding hands, we had formed a circle around each tree and shared memories of our neighbor. There was some laughter, there were some tears. Then we took turns shoveling the soil needed to complete the planting. It was a way of sharing grief, as well as a moment that celebrated our tight-knit neighborhood.

But by July, the heat and drought of the summer were taking a toll on the newly planted trees. No one wanted to stand by and watch them die. No one wanted the widow and widower to lose the living symbols of their loved ones.

So it was that the five of us carried bucket after bucket of water that hot night. We had let it go too long as it was. We would not wait any longer.

The next morning, we came up with a more practical solution. One of the trees was close enough to our clubhouse that it could be reached with a hose, so another neighbor lent us one. The other tree was much farther from the nearest source of water. That one would be watered with several hoses strung together and connected to the outdoor faucet of an unoccupied new home.

I am happy to report that both trees not only lived, but have thrived. This past Christmas we decorated them with lights, and we were cheered each time we saw them.

•••

When I was buying my new home, I never gave much thought to my future neighbors. To be blunt, I didn’t think they would be very important to me.

After all, I had lived in Woodstock for 40 years. I had made and kept a lot of good friends. So expanding my social circle was not a consideration in choosing my home.

But I was very wrong. My neighbors have become tremendously important to me. I now count some of them among my closest friends. Others I do not see as often, but I enjoy their company when I do. Even those I only know by sight greet me with a friendly wave when our paths cross.

As it turns out, we are more than a neighborhood. In many ways, we are family.

bob tree

My Journey Home

February 9, 2013
by Caryl Dierksen
comments 8
Mostly Musings

abbey-side3.jpgIt was Kathy, a friend and former teaching colleague, who filled my head with dreams of owning an Abbey. Five years ago, she moved into her Abbey in a nearby Epcon community, though not Maples at the Sonatas where I live. After settling in, she invited me over to see her new home. I went, stayed long enough to fall in love with it, and left promising myself “someday….”

But as I was driving home, doubts began to set in. A new home just didn’t seem like a realistic possibility for me. I felt trapped in the town home that I owned, even though I had paid off the mortgage. My elderly mother lived in the building next to me. How could I move farther away? Besides, I would have to sell my place before I could think of buying a new home. And I was living on an Illinois teachers pension, not exactly a failsafe source of income.

Rather than give up on my dream Abbey entirely, I became a stealth customer at Maples at the Sonatas. For the next three years, I would show up periodically, check in as briefly as possible with the salesperson, and insist on walking through the models on my own. When I finished, I would go directly to my car and drive away. Yes, it was rude, but I felt it was the best way to avoid follow-up calls. Finally, Jon, an infinitely patient and kind salesperson, talked me into filling out an informational form.

The turning point came in the summer of 2010. It was a golden time for me, when a lifelong dream of writing a novel came true, complete with book signings and enthusiastic buyers. I thought my life couldn’t get any better, but I was wrong.

Shortly after my book launch, a friend suggested I go back to visit the Maples because models of the new, unattached homes had recently opened. Why not? It had been several months since I had plagued Jon with one of my nonproductive, noncommittal visits.

As he and I walked down the street toward the models, Jon casually suggested we stop and look at an Abbey. It was a great deal, he said, completely finished with lots of nice upgrades. The price had just been reduced, too. Sure, I said. Why not?

Sappy as it sounds, as soon as we walked in I knew I had found my home. I loved everything, the sun pouring in the windows of the veranda, the colors and finishes, the appliances, everything down to the smallest detail.

I don’t even remember the subsequent tour of the models I had supposedly come to see. All I wanted to do was go back to the Abbey, which I was already daring to think of as mine.

With my thoughts in a whirl, I went home. But a few days later I was back to take pictures. All the while, I was trying to calculate whether I could actually afford the home without waiting for my old place to sell. A talk with my brother, the math major, eased my worries.

Then I timed the drive from my new place to Mom’s and found it less than five minutes. That was workable. Another obstacle fell.

Soon I was meeting with Jon, asking him the detailed questions I should have been asking all along. I had my answers, took a really deep breath, and said I wanted to buy my Abbey. What was the first step?

Signing a contract and making a deposit, he said.

When can I do that? I asked as I reached for my checkbook. Can I do it right now? I had been inching toward the decision for three long years, but I couldn’t wait another day.

Jon managed to keep a straight face as he said that would be fine.

I uttered a phrase for the first time that day, words I have repeated countless times since. Home sweet Abbey!