Teacher Prep

I can't stress enough how done I am with October. It has been one heck of a crazy month. Fortunately, my new real estate school boss has also had a crazy month and did not notice I haven't been around to talk about me teaching. That's a good thing, because up until this week, I had done nothing with my new certification. Plus, I didn't think starting a relationship with my new employer giving her a month of my baggage would be a sign of beginning on the right foot. So, I took the ultra-mature route and ignored the entire situation, hoping she didn't call.

This week, life, blessedly calmed down and I had a chance to kind of figure out what I want to teach. I think I want to start by teaching agency. It is a subject near and dear to my heart, and I truly feel if more agents paid attention to this particular topic, we would be raising the bar for our industry.

Tuesday, I sat in on an agency class. The teacher was boring and actually got the information partially wrong. Not wanting to be that student, I just took my notes and started working on my own outline, instead of raising my hand and correcting her. Ok, maybe I did that once or twice. But I swear I was tactful.

I was so relieved I was taking another agency class on Wednesday, to wash that horrid Tuesday class out of my brain. That is, until I sat down and had the worst class I have ever had Wednesday afternoon.

In the middle of class, after she said a few appalling snippets, I whipped out my phone and looked up the instructor. She had been an agent for less than two years. I didn't even know you could get a real estate instructor's license with less than two year's experience! The class was so bad, I was tempted to walk out and kiss the $20 I spent good-bye, but in the end, I stayed. I learned a lot about how not to teach a class. Trust me, I took notes.

Incidentally, I didn't have to raise my hand and tactfully correct Wednesday's teacher. There were about seven other people in the class doing it for me.

Marty and I are taking an agency class next week taught by my friend Kaye. I know it will be a good class. The reason I am taking so many is to get material together, because it appears I need to create my own curriculum.

The class I am creating for is how to set client expectations with a client consultation. Essentially, what the public needs to know to hire an agent. And more to the point, how an agent needs to act so the client's expectations are properly set.

 As a real estate professional, our jobs isn't really about showing pretty homes. And if the general public understood that, perhaps our industry would have a better reputation. There is a lot of work that goes on behind the scenes. I have had clients say to me I didn't earn my commission. Well, that means I did my job. They didn't know what was going when they weren't looking. Nor did they know how much drama they may have caused.

But the truth is, agents aren't respected. It is our own doing. I have actually lost clients because I wanted to sit down and have a consultation with them first. All they wanted to do was gain access to a home and decide if it was right for them. It didn't matter that they wanted to spend a third of a million and truly needed to know what their rights and legal obligations were. Other agents were willing to just waltz in and do it the clients' way, no matter what the legal ramifications were.

Pardon me for saying so, but this must stop. As an industry, if we want to be taken seriously, agents need to act the part. So, that's the class I am working on.

Appraisal Class

A week ago last Monday (October 21), I woke up with a jolt. I realized had totally forgotten to take my appraisal test scheduled on October 14. In my defense, the month of October has been six levels of crazy. In fact, it has been so crazy that even with the test on my calendar I still forgot to show up and did not think twice about it for another week.

Anyway, I hadn't studied for my final or thought twice about it. So, once I realized it was still on my plate, I did spend part of two days cramming for the darn thing, hoping I could pull off a passing grade. Finally last Wednesday, sick of the entire ordeal and frustrated by getting the covenants of a joint tenancy deed wrong every time that practice question came up, I finally just dusted my knees and went over to the college ready to accept whatever my fate may be.

By the way, I passed the test just fine. Then again, there were no questions about the differences between joint tenancy and tenants in common deeds.

I am not sure I want to earn an appraisal license through an online computer course. It isn't cheaper or more expensive than going to the Arizona School of Real Estate, but it has the advantage of being able to do this at my leisure. However, I miss having discussions and discourse about course topics. That might be more important to me if I choose to pursue this further. It is something I will have to think about.

The Bad Landlord

I am sorry, the smell-o-vision
is currently turned off.

This story hurts my insides.

Landon and Dawn were moving away. They had Bess house sit while they looked for a place to live in another state. Cindy, a mutual friend of Landon, Dawn and Bess suddenly became homeless through circumstances I don't exactly understand. So, what happened?

Well--and I am not making this up--Bess (the house sitter, not the homeowner) said to Cindy "Why don't you just move into Landon and Dawn's house? They are moving out of state and were thinking about renting it out anyway. They won't mind."

And then handed Cindy the keys to Landon and Dawn's home.

Bess didn't ask permission.

There was no lease.

There was no security deposit.

There was no nothing. And whilst you think Landon and Dawn should be 100 percent furious with their house sitter, they weren't. THEY DIDN'T MIND.  Why? Because Cindy needed a house.

Let's fast forward though the years of this train wreck, shall we.

I am not showing you the bathrooms.
You are welcome.

Cindy has lived in this house with her adult children. Rent is below market and has only been a mere suggestion, with Cindy having excuse after excuse about why rent would be late, if at all. Landon and Dawn have done their altruistic duty and kept the place habitable, by putting in a brand new AC unit, taking care of minor maintenance issues and paying the mortgage and taxes on the place so Cindy and her adult children had a place to live.

You think Cindy would be the least bit grateful, right? For the record, that question was rhetorical.

Last week Cindy and her adult children moved out. Landon and Dawn figured this out when the neighbor called and said there were two sizable moving trucks outside. Last week (after Dawn sent an unanswered text and e-mail to Cindy and her adult children saying this was happening) I entered the property to find a humongous mess.

Cindy et. al., left a good amount of their worldly possessions and a crap-ton of trash behind, including plates of food on the counter, and lots of perishable food in the garage refrigerator. Given the size of the moving trucks, it struck me they might have been able to squeeze in a few more items, but I guess not.

Though the place is a mess, fortunately, the house appears to be in reasonable condition. However, I had bad news for Landon and Dawn, they had to inventory and keep Cindy's possessions for a period of time before they can clean out the place and turn around and rent or sell it.

This past week, Dawn has repeatedly called me asking me for advice. Every time I give her my answer as a former landlord and as a real estate broker, she counters me, citing sources from fix and flip TV shows to what her third cousin's father-in-law thinks. I am the dumbest person alive in her eyes because I never agree with the third cousin's father-in-law. I don't watch the fix and flip shows, but I thought everyone knew they weren't reality, but instead sponsored content.

From what I can see, both Landon and Dawn don't really want my advice or expertise. I have made suggestions and given the names of folks that can help them. But so far, this is being met with, "we have this handled." That's awesome. I didn't really want to handle it for them anyway. I am not even sure I want them as clients when they go to sell it. However, I just hope Bess isn't their general contractor.

The Good Landlord

Bebe was renting a cute little townhome. A year and a half ago, she asked her landlord if she could let Don live there while she worked out of state. It would only be for a few months, and "he's a really nice guy."

The landlord (who did not ask my opinion at the time) said, "sure, no problem."

Now then, for those of you who don't have any Earthly idea of what happens next, please feel free to sign up for my 10 Day "How to Landlord" crash course.

Let's fast forward. Last week, I finally managed to convince the landlord to do an inspection. It wasn't that I thought there was anything wrong, but this situation has been going on for more than a "few months." I tagged along.

It turns out Don is perfectly settled. All of Don's worldly possessions are nestled comfortably into the this cute little townhome. All of his furniture, clothes, and dishes are there. And just to make sure nothing is going anywhere, there is a RING doorbell and interior security cameras candidly set up throughout the home. The entire place screams "man cave!"

In fact, there is no sign of Bebe anywhere. This isn't necessarily a concern, except our dear landlord has a binding contract with Bebe and only Bebe. If Don decides to not pay the rent, run a meth lab or play out one of the countless other imaginable scenarios that is going through my head right now, Bebe is on the hook.

Or, what if Don doesn't pay? How does the landlord take action to evict? There is no lease with Don and Bebe is MIA.

Perhaps Don is a serial killer with multiple warrants and has a long history of eviction? We don't know because my landlord doesn't know anything about Don because he didn't fill out an application to begin with

Are you seeing the problem here?

Fortunately, my landlord friend does see how this can get bad. She is vulnerable. Though things have been going very well and each party has been comfortable, there is no contract in place to protect this landlord. Plus, rent has been the same for five years and market rent is about $500 more than Bebe is contracted to pay, so a rental increase needs to happen too.

Anyway, the landlord sent a note to Bebe, saying "It is obvious you have abandoned the property," and gave a 30 day termination notice. She also sent a note to Don saying, "If you want a lease, you need to fill out a rental application, and have a background screening and credit check. You will also need to provide a security deposit. And by the way, we are raising your rent $200." Though this didn't sit well, he hasn't balked yet. The owner gave him five days to figure out if he was staying and complying or leaving. I haven't heard yet which direction he is going.

But no matter what, the landlord needed to do this. She wasn't protected.

Priorities

I took matters into my own hands. We now have a car. It even met Marty Sunshine's seal of approval.

Now that I can go placees, I can set up a coffee date with one of my favorite people.

And He Calls This "Fun"

How I shop for just about everything: Log into Amazon, check price. If it is within my tolerance, I click on buy. If not, I add it to the grocery list (even if it isn't a grocery item) and then when I go out once a week--or if Marty is somewhere he can pick it up--we purchase it. This goes for everything from nail clippers to shoes.

How Marty Sunshine shops for a car when the family is in desperate and dire need of transportation: look at every single Web site in the Phoenix metro area that might have a Toy-ru-wagen for sale. Gawk at every single car/SUV/wagon online. Compare minute features between each vehicle to excruciating detail. Dither over every subtle nuance. Does the station wagon have a flugulhorn sound system? Does the sedan have a virtual assistant? If the SUV gets a flat tire, will it change itself?

1. If I am at home, show me endless pictures of cars, calling out the wonderfulness of each and every vehicle (By the way, "I don't want a car with 140,000 miles on it," turns out to be the wrong answer.).

2. If I am at home and not super-cranky from driving all over hell's half acre for my job, drag me to where to the latest car is located to bother the sales people and then compare the car we intended to see with as many other vehicles as Marty can convince me to look at in a 90 minute period of time before I melt.

Or...

3. Send me (who has the working vehicle and is usually somewhere in the Phoenix metro area) to location of Marty's latest flame to test drive and see whether or not I "like" it.

Find some minor flaw in vehicle.

Raise price limit/search area/or other obscure requirement I didn't know was a requirement.

Repeat.

We are going on three weeks.

Deja Vu

My writing weekend was severely hindered by life. In fact, as I write this post, that's about all the writing that happened this weekend.

It wasn't the only reason my writing party was put on hold but it was one of the less ducky reasons. Some clients of mine live in Maryland. They have a home in Gilbert. They just heard from the neighbors, that the tenant had two sizable moving trucks in front of their home. The clients hadn't gotten rent and these renters hadn't returned any calls in weeks.

My clients called me in sheer panic. Was everyone moving or was the family splitting up? What kind of condition was the property in? And holy cow! What should my clients do??? My folks were ready to buy plane tickets as we spoke.

I have lived this. In fact, it brought back a flood of memories. Even though I really, really REALLY wanted to sit down and flesh out why my first chapter is 83,000 words and 157 single spaced pages (true story) these folks needed their nerves calmed first.

Marty and I made the drive to South Gilbert and checked things out. Yep. There in front was two moving trucks. The garage was open and it looked like a minor disaster--however, nothing was packed. They may be moving, but given the level of disorganization I saw from casing the house twice, it would be a while.

Everything my clients could do if they were here they could do from over there. They just need boots on the ground. In this case, yes, I can view the home (once vacant) and get them in touch with the random folks who will make the place either rent-ready or sell-ready. They can order the water, power, and the pool guy to from afar. I mean, if they want to spend $500 on last minute plane fare they can do that too. But, why? Besides, as of this time, nobody knows if the tenants are moving out or just reorganizing.

"What if they take the hot water heater?" my client asked.

I've lived that. It sucks. But the true answer is THERE IS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING YOU CAN DO IF THEY TAKE THE HOT WATER HEATER UNTIL AFTER THEY TAKE IT.

"What if they trash the place?"

Lived that too. It is cleanable. And fixable. But yea, not fun.

All these emotions and several more came up yesterday. It put me in a foul mood as I relived this nightmare all over again.

However, as much as I would rather have been cutting my story back, I totally understood how these clients felt. There is a level of helplessness that comes with managing property under these circumstances. I lived it and it is horrible. And I am sorry these folks lived it too. Hopefully their tenants leave and take all their baggage with them.

Gone Writing

Once in a while, I lop off a significant chunk of time (like three days) and just plan on writing. I clear my calendar and tell my family weeks in advance, "I will be writing. Please take care of whatever it is yourself." My writing party scheduled for October was set for after my last closing.

There is a saying, if you want to hear God laugh, tell him your plans. Well, He's having a fit of giggles right about now. My writing party is now more like writing breakout sessions. I'm showing homes, taking a family member to the doctor, and a few other numerous tasks that now take prescedent over my free time. I am ok with that. They are necessary. My silly little hobby isn't.

That said, I am going to enjoy every moment of my silly little hobby. It breathes life into me and feeds my soul. It is my recharge time.

The Break is Over

My real estate break lasted 17 minutes. I now have three buyers.

I am grateful and blessed.

But I need a break.

And I need a car.

Golly, Gosh, Darn

So we are down a car. This is rather unfortunate, because it requires a LOT of driving on my part to get people to places they need to go. Seriously, I put more than 350 miles on the car in 24 hours.

Alternatively, it means I have no transportation. Like right now. Right now I am sitting at home with a cat and a dog, while Buck is being picked up from school and summarily sentenced to attend Polly's music lesson, because Polly picked him up. Otherwise, Buck and I would both be at Polly's music lesson. However, I took the first shift and took Buck to school, Polly to the doctor, went to the bank and then came home and handed the keys off to Polly, who will then drop her brother off at home and go to school.

I need another car.

But I didn't need a car earlier this week! Why?? Well, shucks. As it turned out, because I had no transportation, I couldn't make the community outreach meeting. And what a bummer that turned out to be. I didn't get to hear snarky unprofessional comments from the leadership. I didn't watch in horror as those who wish to accomplish something, anything, were shut down for creative fresh ideas. I didn't get to mentally roll my eyes as this committee met for the sheer sake of existence.

And I don't regret it at all.

She's Not Living the Dream

So one of my realtor/investor/homeschool mom friends who now lives in another state contacted me. She wants to buy a single family home in the Valley for under $200,000. And could I please send her everything I could find? I promised her it wouldn't be much. But just like all optomisitc buyers everywhere, she didn't believe me.

I kind of went back and forth with her about this, with each passing comment countered in a true realtor/investor/homeschool mom way. I love this wonderful friend. Even if she is unrealistic. Here is kind of how the conversation went.

"I think your price might be slighly low. I just sold a 2 bedroom condo in Tempe for almost $200,000" I told her.

"I don't want a condo," was her sensible reply, but completely missed the point. THERE ISN'T ANYTHING FOR SALE.

"I believe you could find something in the $190,000 range in downtown Phoenix, like the 85007/85008 zip codes."

"I don't want downtown Phoenix. Too much crime." She said. Yes, true but even criminals need a place to live--though I didn't tell her that. I happen to agree. That's not where I would want to invest either. Nor do I want to show homes over there if I don't have to.

Personally, I doubt this will happen for her right now. At least here in the Phoenix area. That's too bad, because I would love to help her. She is a repeat client. She gives me referral business, now that she no longer lives here. She is a great friend and makes me smile. But no, she probably isn't buying a rental home in the Valley any time soon.

Closed

My home sale in Peoria closed today.

May I just say, I couldn't have been happier my listing closed! I didn't write about it too much because the sale made me physically ill. I mean it: physically. It even took me a while to figure out the sale was making me sick. There are reasons--but I don't feel like going into them. In fact, I would like to just forget. It wasn't a hard sale. Everyone was pleasant. It was just an intense sale.

And now it is behind me.

A couple of weeks ago, I told Marty I needed a break after this house closed. However, I also need a car, and needing breaks and needing cars don't go together. But I think unless something jumps in my lap, I am taking a couple of weeks off.

National Buckaroo Day

Seventeen years ago, Buckaroo made his grand entrance. I have been laughing ever since. Polly is the soul who taught me about love. Buckaroo is the one who taught me to laugh and not take the world so seriously. My dear son has a quick wit and a fun sense of humor. Additionally, he could not have been a better compliment to his sister, who desperately needed a sibling. They are the best of friends.

Buck has a strong sense of propriety. His moral compass does not waiver. He doesn't like liars, theives and those who purposely do harm. I am not surprised that he feels called to serve others, but as a mother, I wish he would pick something safer to do with his life. But then again, I can't think of anyone I would rather have as a first responder.

Incidentally, Buckaroo got his name from the Rodney Atkins song, "Watching You," which he sang over and over when he was 4. He even named his beloved toy zebra Buckaroo, which has never been the least bit confusing whatsoever to have two Buckaroos in the same home.

Nope.

Never.

Here are a few Buckaroo-isms.

• "Now then, what I'm about to tell you, I would prefer you chose to think of it only as amusing..."
• When he was four-ish, he ran past me with his hands behind his back and up the stairs calling, "I don't have anything behind my back, Mommy!" (He had a jar of peanut butter).
• Recently there was a very loud crash upstairs that shook the house. I heard some cursing and then he called down to me, "It was the cat! And could you not come upstairs for about an hour please?"
• One time, while in the office, he walked by holding the drill. He looked at me, grabbed the door knob and stated, "Just go ahead and lock this door until I'm done."
• "Mom, right now you are kookoo for Cocoa Puffs. I will take care of everything."
• "Mom, I am so grateful to you, I could even write you a thank you note."
• "Girls only want one thing: boys and gossip. Plus they can't hold an intellectual conversation."
• "All Neil Diamond songs are about some girl who rocked his world."
• "What's the difference between a train wreck and a hot mess?"
• And my personal favorite: "16 year old girls are not ready to date."
• The runner up, "Redheads are nothing but trouble. Except Aunt Tori. She's cool." 

Perspective

I am not making this up. There are currently less than 11,000 single family residences for sale in the Phoenix metro area. There are also about 30,000 real estate agents. Economists and real estate analytical gurus consider a "balanced" market to be about 43,000 real estate units for sale at one time. As you can see, there is a lot of competition for homes.

So, when Jane lamented today that she has been unable to sell anything lately, I pointed this out. She has sold three this year. And frankly, in this market, that's huge. Most agents I know haven't even done that well.

I don't know if that made her feel better, but it is the truth. She has nothing to be ashamed of. She doesn't have the same kind of referral base Mrs. Hufflepuff or I do from being in the business for some many years (and even with my referral base, I closed five so far). She has gotten her clients the hard way--open houses and marketing herself. I told her I am proud of her efforts. Most agents haven't even managed to find one client, much less three  this past year. In fact, I know more agents right now who are driving for Lyft and Uber while the market is tight than selling homes.

It isn't Jane's lack of hustle that has gotten her three clients. I dare say, it is her hustle that has gotten her three clients. She's doing fine.

Let the Adventures Begin

I have been a bit sidetracked this week. We are down a car. The car we got after the bankruptcy is totalled. And, as we are starting over, finances being what they are, we may be down a car for a while. I am not at peace about this, but the vein in my forehead isn't throbbing, so there's that.

No

On a side note, Marty Sunshine who has enjoyed looking at cars every day of his life since he was born, is having a grand time! Every day he sends me pictures of something like a 2016 Volkswagen Plopperty Plop with a wizbang and needlessgadgets and sweetly asks, what do I think?

Who knew that, "I think the car is sunburst orange and I don't like it," turns out to be the wrong answer?

____________________

Fortunately my clients seem to sense a shift in the Universe, so they are living their lives in such a way that we are all happy. The seller's kitchen hasn't flooded this week--did I mention there was a flood a couple of weeks ago and the hardwoods are warped? Yea. That happened too.

Even better, the buyer isn't trying another stupid trick, like getting roofers to do roofing things when they don't own the home. All of that is fine, because I don't have the time or patience for such nonsense.

The other agent though, seems to be of a mindset that time is a nebulous concept that has no relation to the contract. We are still working through that. Bless her heart.

____________________

And in other news, the Arizona Department of Real Estate has certified me to teach! Nothing going on with this just yet. I am trying to finish my appraisal class and this sale before I tackle this new idea.

Squee!!!!!

Appraisal Class Update

I am currently working like crazy to complete my first appraisal class. To be honest, the class isn't for me. It is a CBT with a few words on a power point and then a multiple choice trivia question on the next slide asking what the previous power point said. The only "learning" is really memorizing. If a student misses one question, they are required to take the entire CBT a second time. It is a hellish amount of work for a two credit community college class.

Plus, the questions are poorly worded and often have no relevance to real life. So, even if I know the answer because of what I do for a living, if the CBT says otherwise and does not provide a reasonable explanation to why they want the answer they want, it is wrong and then another 45 minutes is spent taking the same stupid class again.

The first part of the training was (for me) review of vocabulary of a bunch of terms I conveniently forgot right after I passed my broker test. Words like, "alluvial," "avudial," "novation," "escheat" and the like. I need to know them again until, or if, I take the appraisal exam.

Plus, the class is obviously written by different people with different language styles. The basic vocabulary and terms are bad enough, but at least they were easy to understand. However, the second part, which is basic appraisal concepts is a nebulous bit mumbo-jumbo made to sound super-fancy with the use of many "wherewithfores" thrown in for good measure.

According to this class, appraisals are "analyses with prognostications of unforeseen economic circumstances." Actually, appraisals aren't. Lots of appraisers went to prison for such practises about 10 years ago. I have nobody to argue this point with because the computer program doesn't care.

This is the first of several classes. I may not be cut out to learn appraising online. That's ok. Very few people are. I can only imagine how harrowing this would be if I didn't have the background I have. With any luck I will be taking the final exam for this class next week.

I Can't Make This Up

All was good, for about 37 minutes.

Then, I got an e-mail from my seller.

They were contacted by a roofer.

You see, the buyer decided to fix the roof this week. They figured the roofing company could ust bill the seller after the fact. Unfortunately, this was news to the selling side. And it was news to the buyer's agent. I should also mention, unless my luck changes, this house isn't closing for two more weeks. So, NO THE BUYER IS NOT FIXING A ROOF OF A HOME THEY DON'T OWN AND FORCING THE SELLER TO PAY FOR IT.

This particular transaction is sucking the life out of me.