I know – I JUST KNOW – that there are folks out there waiting on pins and needles for the continuation of my stirring and evocative saga, The Dreaded ‘M’ Word. We had left off with Asaf (the correct spelling of his name) holding the key to the front entrance of this new building on Hashofar. We were about to walk up the flight of stairs (I guess the elevator was not yet in service with only one apartment actually occupied) and open the door to apt 6, which might or might not become the future home of the Casdens. So what were you thinking? What did you expect to find? We know that apartment hunting is not your idea of a good time – to put it mildly.

I’ve remarked many times about the little sign on our refrigerator door, which we obtained in a little shop at a stop-over in Marseille, J’habite chez mon chat. (Or for those of you whose French is a little rusty, it’s more or less, I’m staying at my cat’s place.) So change the last word to femme. What it comes down to is that wherever Barbara is living or wants to be living, that’s home to me, pure and simple. Let me look at this apartment as objectively as I can, not trying to talk my way into liking it and regretting it later, nor pooh-poohing it for no good reason just to be obnoxious.

While it’s true that nobody has lived in this apartment, it hasn’t been unoccupied. It’s been used as a make-shift office for employees of the construction company with a folding table with stuff on it, an old refrigerator, and a kum-kum to heat water for instant coffee. And yes, the toilets were more or less in place, although their décor is, shall we say, not what I would have had in mind.

There’s a decent-sized room for the kitchen complete with a vent for the stove, a hookup for water, plenty of electricity, but without the customary amenities. The construction company is offering an 11,000 NIS voucher (which translates into $3,000) at a kitchen store in DCity to install the cabinets, countertops, sinks, etc. that one would need to actually HAVE a kitchen.

11,000 NIS, is that a typo? No friends, that’s not a typo. Of course, you can’t assemble a real kitchen for that amount; maybe put in a cabinet or two… Asaf explained the simple economics: families who have won the right to purchase an apartment at a bargain rate are content with putting in a starter kitchen. I guess you do what you have to; simple as that. Except that Barbara and I are not just starting out. Au contraire, mes amis. You might say we’re on the final lap.

Otherwise, I couldn’t find much to complain about in the apartment. The main area for the salon and pinat ochel was big enough, as were the second and third bedrooms, one of which was the safe room. (We’re not yet in rocket range of anybody, but you never know.) There’s a laundry room off the kitchen and a storage room across the hallway outside the apartment. The balcony has a pergola over most of it, but there’s enough room left to construct our own little hut when it’s that time of year. Even the master bedroom with its ensuite bathroom has its charm. It’s a tad cramped, but I can imagine waking up in the middle of the night and fantasizing that we’re holed up in a tiny cabin on a cruise ship somewhere in the Mediterranean. (When you’re given a lemon…)

Asaf was kind enough to give us a second tour of the place, at which time I tried to focus more on the little details, like the TV camera for the intercom – a definite positive, which for us would be a ‘how can we disable this for Shabbat?’ –  and the impressive number of circuit breakers, all clearly labeled. Then there was the issue of screening off the balcony so that Shehki couldn’t relocate to a neighbor’s apartment. The question remained, could I imagine that this as where I’d want to spend my senior moments? In general, it’s hard to feel comfy in an apartment that’s never been lived in, but I suppose… It was the only place we’ve looked out that didn’t produce an immediate feeling of blue funk, so there’s that. We left the apartment, intimating to Asaf that we might very well be the buyers the company was looking for. However….

What happens now? How do we deal with a gap of 150,000 NIS between the asking price for the bare-bones apartment on Hashofar and what our real estate agent believes we can get for where we are now. I had made this clear to Barbara from the get-go, the financing is on you. You’re the one who wants to move and has the M.B.A. I’m leaving it up to you to decide whether we can afford this place. I don’t even want to know how we’re going to pull it off.

And so, for days on end, Barbara sat at her desk pondering our future. There’s money coming in; that’s easy to calculate. There’s money going out – let me count the ways – money we know we’re spending, like when we hand somebody a credit card, and money we don’t think about, like insurance premiums and everyone tapping into our bank account every month like clockwork. When you total all that up, that’s the scary part, because none of those bills will go away. As far as we understood, we would need to come up with 10% of the asking price as a down payment. There are all the expenses and fees related to any move, but usually you’re not expected to install your own kitchen and provide your own heating and a/c. How much should we figure for all that?

I have to give my wife all the credit in the world; she fixated on all these numbers until she came up with some figures that made sense to her. My job was to let her know when lunch or dinner was ready. No one should be doing financial wizardry on an empty stomach.

SNEAK PREVIEW: In our next episode, we get to negotiate with a lawyer for the construction company. You’re free to imagine how that went.