TWELVE PERCENT. THIS is a pivotal number in my financial life.
What does it refer to? Is it the average annual return on my investments? I wish. Is it the percentage of my pre-tax income that I dedicate to retirement savings? No. That number, including pension and 403(b) contributions, is closer to 25%.
Instead, that 12% is the slice of my pre-tax income reserved for housing. When picking a place to live, I’m a cheapskate.

This is a thought exercise.
Suppose that you owned a home in Pacific Palisades, or Altadena that was destroyed by one of the wildfires. You have been through a very tough time. The fires are out, and after reporting your loss, you are waiting to hear from the company adjuster. You have a big decision to make……Will you rebuild?
Our little housing area here in the PNW has about 2000 single family homes. The first ones were built in 1976,

STOCKS, BONDS, CASH—and a house owned free and clear. For many, that’s the recipe for a financially successful retirement. Our homes represent a central pillar of middle-class status. With a paid-off mortgage, we have an affordable place to spend our old age.
Yet signing up for decades of house payments has become controversial for its high opportunity cost—what you give up to pay the mortgage. Has a home mortgage, with its long, slow road to payoff,

I’M WRAPPING UP MY final big investment. Going into it, I knew it would lose money, unleash unwanted disruption and chew up time when it’s never been more precious—and yet I still went ahead.
As readers might recall, last year, Elaine and I remodeled the kitchen in our Philadelphia home. This year, we decided we’d revamp the upstairs bathroom, despite my cancer diagnosis and the forecast that I might live just 12 more months.

SIPPING MORNING coffee on the porch of my 40-year-old aluminum box in the Sonoran Desert, I’m pondering the cost of housing.
My affordable unit sits on cement piers at the end of a street within an age-restricted park, at the sparsely populated edge of Tucson. Few jobs exist nearby. Civic amenities are modest. Summer weather is challenging, with heat, thunderstorms and seasonal rattlesnakes. Still, these conditions have created a financially comfortable place for a retiree to live.

IN JANUARY, I surrendered to passionate irrationality, buying a park unit in Arizona that has become my second home.
Now I understand why, at least in the movie cliché, a man might buy house slippers for his long-suffering wife’s birthday, while giving flashy, expensive baubles to his girlfriend for no reason at all.
My single-wide “girlfriend” is tiny and fragile, the bloom off her youth. Things that improve her are easily obtained. A phone call to a friendly fellow at a store,

This is a story of two home maintenance items. One that was immediate, and I addressed it, the other must be addressed soon. Here are our thoughts associated with how to proceed.
For the first project, I recently replaced a bathroom ventilation fan in one of our bathrooms. In the time we’ve owned this house it has gotten progressively louder. The bathroom in question is adjacent to our main living areas, so the noise is annoying.

MY WIFE AND I purchased a 1942 bungalow when we got married in 2013. It met many of our criteria: price, location, spacious backyard, access to greenways and more. But the place also had drawbacks—including the one described below. 
The entryway to the house included a climb up seven steps to a stoop. The stoop was small, large enough for only one person to stand while opening the storm door. The only protection from the weather was an old canvas awning.

There’s a world where I can go
And tell my troubles to
In my room, in my room
The Beach Boys, 1963
Alberta and I just returned from what for me was a restorative and emotionally powerful two-week trip to New York. No, not because she got to see seven movies at the International Film Festival in the Hamptons or four shows in the city. But she took pictures of me standing in front of five of the commercial buildings my family owned some fifty years ago.

YEARS AGO, I SAW a Looney Tunes cartoon starring Daffy Duck and Elmer Fudd. As always, good old Elmer was trying to kill a duck for dinner, only to be outsmarted by the much cleverer Daffy.
In this particular episode, Daffy is playing a game of catch with his duck friends outside Elmer’s house. An overthrown ball crashes through a window. Elmer comes out and says, “Who broke that glass? Someone is going to pay for that.” The ducks all bump into each other in their efforts to run away.

Thanks so much for the great comments and advice on my previous post about this topic. As I said in a reply, I’m making a list of all the ideas commenters shared to discuss with my husband. We may or may not move forward with this idea—there are some complicated family dynamics that I won’t get into in this particular post. But if we do, here are some of the numbers we’re considering.

I’ve been looking at small starter homes or condos in either our town or the one 10 miles north of us.

So we’re thinking about buying a rental home, either in our college town or the town 10 miles north of us. I’ve written here before that we were briefly landlords in the late 90s when we moved to a larger home and rented out our starter home. But we felt we didn’t have the bandwidth to be landlords, so we sold the place after a year. That was a major financial mistake.
Why are we considering this now?

I HAVE LONG HELD a grudge against Los Angeles, and not just because they stole the Dodgers from Brooklyn when I was a kid. It’s a city where too much value is placed on how you look, a metric where I don’t score particularly high. By contrast, New York City—my old stomping ground—is principled more on what you know, and on that score I feel I deserve at least a gentleman’s C.
That said,

Covid. Third time and pretty bad. Feels almost over after thirteen days. That Paxlovid’s a miracle medication, but I’m afraid I’ll rebound from it. All very scary for a 79-year-old with an immune system compromised by an anti-cancer drug. Very little fever though, surprising given how out of it and weak I’ve felt.
Actually, most of my fever has not been of the temperature kind. It was more about my money or, more accurately, my fear of losing control over my money.

WHEN I ASKED MY brother what to bring to my newly purchased winter home in Tucson, his response was succinct: “Money. Lots. And extra credit cards.”
The voice of experience, he bought a so-called park unit five years ago before home prices soared, up 47% since early 2020 . My expenses in buying my place—and making it into what I wanted—had me selling beaten-down shares in a total bond fund to refill my cash accounts.