Never Happening

Doug and Carla's condo is in the "coming soon," section of the Multiple Listing Service. That means, agents can see the listing, but it isn't active. Not being active means 1) the home is not available to the general public and 2) agents can't show the listing. Why? BECAUSE IT ISN'T ACTIVE! 

There are many reasons for a "coming soon" status. For example, what if the owners need to clean? What if there were monsoons and the patio roof needs repair? What if the photographer hasn't taken pictures just yet and the agent needs to get all of the marketing in order for that one, good first impression? Those are just some of the more reasonable answers but there's also what if the owner's mother-in-law needs to move into an assistive living center and that won't be ready until next Friday and in the mean-time, the owner's do not want anyone to disturb the family dynamics? So, no showings until Mama is moved. What if the owner is in a domestic abuse situation and is fleeing for her life and needs a few days to scoot out of town? All of these scenarios and more have crossed my path. But in the case of Doug and Carla's condo, it is really only the first three reasons. 

Before 7 a.m. this morning, I got a text from some uptight and entitled agent asking what was wrong with the scheduling program. She couldn't schedule a showing for my listing. And would I please fix it rightway, K? Of course, the only way to "fix it" would be to make the listing active.

I explained the home wasn't available to show and would be going on the market next week. At that time, I would be happy to have her show her clients this fabulous condo! Please, stay tuned! And then I thanked her so much for her interest in showing the property. 

That didn't go over well. She told me she has a  "busy" day and it was today or never. Ok then. Never it is. 

When it Rains

Doug and Carla's cute little condo is slated to go on the market next week. The pictures have been ordered. The sign and lockbox are on the property. I'm doing my level best to generate attention and excitement. 

And then, Doug calls me.

You see, Doug's downstairs condo has a roof leak. True, the roof issue is on the patio, but you can't miss it. Front and center. Plus, because it is on the outside of the unit, this issue happens to be the responsibility of the HOA and not Doug, so he is at the mercy of someone who isn't invested in this little drama to get back to him and fix the problem. 

Doug offered to "clean it up," and we could all pretend it didn't happen. And as much as I would love to take Doug up on his kind offer, we both know there is a pressing problem. 

I didn't have great words of wisdom for Doug when he called, other than call the HOA, bypass the person answering the phones and talk to the one who can make this repair happen. Hopefully this will get cleared up sooner than later. 

 

Behind the Scenes

One of the more obscure jobs of real estate agents is to poke around and try to glean information from other agents. Case in point: Doug and Carla's listing isn't on the market yet. One of the reasons why is there is another unit for sale in their complex. And I wanted to know what it sold for prior to listing theirs. This helps me price Doug and Carla's more competitively. 

It turns out, the agent who has that listing is the same agent I bugged months earlier when I was looking for a home for Dee. She had the house that was being fixed up and wasn't on the market at the time. I dutifully called every week until she let me show it to Dee. And then we put an offer in on it, making sure there wasn't a bidding war.* It is safe to say, this agent knows my name.

Anyway, I've been talking to this agent for the past couple of weeks. She told me her first offer was for $27,000 over asking price--for a 2 bedroom, 900 square foot condo?! Yep. That offer fell through. So, there was another offer for $15,000 over asking price. They were waiting for the appraisal to come back and it would close next week. She said call her back and she'd tell me what the 900 square foot condo appraised for--just to help me with my pricing.  

Yesterday I found out the condo appraised for the $15,000 over asking price! So, that means it isn't unreasonable to market Doug and Carla's condo at the higher value. Had we not waited, they probably wouldn't had gotten as much for their place. And, had I not poked around and had this relationship with this agent, I wouldn't have been able to find this information out until after Doug's condo was on the market. 

 *Then the house caught fire three days after Dee closed on it, but that's another story. 

Julie

Last month, while I was away chasing off large desert cats, Julie called me. She got my name from a friend and was thinking about selling her house. We talked and agreed I would immediately get back in touch with her when I was in town. 

So, immediately when I was in town, I called her. And I left a message. And I called the next day. And the next. At that point, I pretty much decided Julie didn't really want to talk with me. That's ok. Sometimes its a good fit, sometimes it isn't. 

Fast forward a month. Julie called once again and left a message, asking me to call her back. She said she is interested in selling her house. I called back, left a message. I called my friend, thanking her for the referral and said "I hope Julie calls back, I would love to help her." Then I waited two days and called once more, again leaving a message. 

I don't consider myself a pushy sales-type. But dang! If you are calling me, it's impolite for me to ignore you. And I am the one who looks bad if I don't follow up.  

At this point, I think I've reached out enough. If Julie is truly interested, she can call me. Two can play the hard-to-get game. 

Doug and Carla's Bargain

Doug and Carla will be moving into their rental soon. They asked for a two year lease, as they figure it will take that long to get their goals together and get to the point where buying a home again is in their future. That's all well and good, but the landlord "sprang" something on them that--even though I told them they should expect it prior to them signing the lease--they didn't expect. 

You see, the landlord told them they would extend a two year lease with a provision the rent goes up $100 a month starting in the second year. To me, this is a no-brainer, to Doug and Carla this was an outlandish attack and they would not stand for such a thing! 

Now then, you'd think my job would be to open doors to pretty houses, smile and pass out keys to the homeless. And yes, I do that too. But I am also part psychologist, voice of reason and life coach. 

As I explained to Doug and Carla: they are talking about $1,200 a year to not move next July. That means, no Uhaul, no new deposit on utilities, no begging  friends (once again) to spend a sweaty Saturday in the Arizona heat, helping move all their worldly belongings from point A to point B. It means they aren't spending late June through July looking for another place to live, where the rent will probably be higher than the $100 and once again Doug's past will have to be sold to another sympathetic landlord. There is no new security deposit. No new cleaning deposit. No new schools for Doug and Carla's kids to get used to. 

Prices aren't going down so they will have to pay more to live somewhere next year. After all, there will still be a shortage of rental homes. Besides, they got this place at a screaming deal (thank you El Jefe).  Plus--if they stayed in their cute little condo, they would be paying significantly more a year from now because of increases in HOA and taxes. So, they shouldn't be surprised the landlord also has these expenses. 

I can't put a price on convenience, but I see agreeing to pay a bit more for next year's lease to be worth more than they bargained for.  

Adventures in Living

You know that movie, Groundhog Day where the main character re-lives the same day over and over? Yea... I'm kind of doing that with a bit of the Twilight Zone mashed in, just to make life interesting. 

This week I've driven across town multiple times to take Dad to the doctors. I've had the same conversations with my brothers, sister-in-laws and mother about Dad's health and I'm pretty sure I haven't said anything new. However the communications specialist in me figured out different words to use to say the same thing. 

My own health has been weird. I mean, who actually looses their hearing for 24 hours out of nowhere? (I can hear fine now. I have no explanation). 

Additionally, my mother, who has been hospice trained, has given me great advice that was relevant when Dad was at his worst. He's doing better now, so the advice isn't as beneficial. Plus, Mom can only sustain altruism for so long, as evidence that she called me and asked if Dad was ready to give up his computer because she had a friend who needed one. Additionally, I sent her an e-mail about my weird hearing loss. She wrote back, and all she said was she's been taking pictures of covered bridges. Well, at least something is normal.* 

In addition to life-drama, there's real estate. I have a house in escrow I haven't gotten around to writing about. It is a new-build. It isn't exciting. The builder is offering a commission that will cover the cost of a tank of gas for what will be for months' worth of work and my liability. But it is better than nothing. Some builders aren't even offering any commissions at all to agents these days. Wait until the market tanks and they are begging agents to bring in buyers. 

I also have Doug and Carla's listing that will go live in a couple of weeks. That's kind of a fun story that will have to wait until I get Dad's next round doctor's appointments scheduled. 

*Please don't judge my mom. I can handle her better when I know what to expect. She's back to being quirky. That's ok. It works for her. 

Adventures in Grief

Today is the anniversary of Bonus Mom's death. It is 3:23 a.m. and I can't sleep. So, I'm here writing about Adventures in Grief. 

There's so much I want to say about Bonus Mom, she was a kind, loving person who took me in at my most vulnerable. She molded me into the adult I am today. She showed love in ways that are hard to explain--like getting up early while I was in labor, driving across town and holding my hand when Buckaroo was born. That is the only time in the years I knew her that Bonus Mom got up before 8 a.m. 

I could use Bonus Mom right now. She could advise me how to help my father, whose health is precarious. She could tell me how to help and guide my young adults, who don't need me but need, well, something. She could tell me all sorts of things that I wish she were here to help navigate me through. 

A friend once explained the the grief never goes away. But the raw upset eventually blossoms into happy memoires. My memories are happy. I just wish she was here to make more. 

Marty's Job

For the sake of clarity, I should point out that with all the tomfoolery with Marty's job--and there is quite a bit--he isn't sitting quietly in the corner taking it. There are behind the scenes events happening. There even may be a coup with other managers involved. I can't say. But, you know, maybe.  

And of course there's this: he's ok leaving the company if the right job comes along. Marty has put in resumes and talked with several folks, but at this rate I just don't get caught up in his job search any more. I have enough crazy on my plate. But as Polly pointed out, history shows even if Marty accepts a new job, that doesn't necessarily mean he is taking the new job. Otherwise, we'd be living in Fort Myers right now. 

All Marty doesn't want to do is get in his manager's way and end up losing his pension. All I want to do is write about it, because it seems so ridiculous that these kinds of events happen in a corporation with more than 100,000 world-wide employees. 

 

Pulll-eeeaaase

This popped up on Facebook. Ms. Harwood is magnanimously holding a webinar to help us introverts learn to be, "successful."  Isn't that sweet of her! 

Incidentally, I find that most people who are successful in sales are introverts. The notion was proffered to me once that it was because selling consists of short-term relationships. Introverts can handle short spurts of anyone. 

Besides, selling and one's interior-makeup are not mutually exclusive. Introverts just recharge their batteries from being alone. Extroverts charge their batteries from being around people. Introverts and extroverts know how to talk with people. Confusing shy with introverted is a big mistake. Shy people don't do well in sales. But then again, if they are in sales and want to be paid, they don't stay shy long. 

I do not appreciate the notion from Ashley Harwood that there is some special formula that introverts need to learn in order to be successful in real estate. Introverts aren't broken.   

 

July Distractions

In addition to the Doug and Carla saga there's been a bit of my own distractions. 

My father is ill. On Tuesday I was given word Dad is probably over the hump and (hopefully) on the mend. However, Dad has told me to mind my own business, so I only hear news now from other sources. This story is longer and more upsetting than the above paragraph suggests, but I don't have the mental energy for much more of it. Plus I see no reason to memorialize what he's dealing with it in cyber space.  

As I write this, Marty just got reamed in his staff meeting in front of his peers because New Boss did not feel Marty answered a question the right way. I can hear the meeting from where I'm sitting. Marty was surprised and asked what New Boss was looking for in an answer. New Boss just said Marty was being "too fake." Then New Boss went on to compliment Marty's co-worker for giving the same answer as Marty gave. 

Polly and Pringles broke up. Everybody (other than Pringles) saw this coming. Polly is ok. She wasn't terribly invested. At least that drama is over.   

The anniversary of Bonus Mom's life and death are coming up next week. I'd like to tell you that I will be ok. Maybe I will this year. Right now, I'm just trying to get through Dad's health issues and Marty's job challenges. 

July's Miracle

I'm pleased to say Carla and Doug got their rental home. Pretty sure El Jefe moved Heaven and Earth for this to happen. Plus, he did it from his camping vacation in Colorado. So, I owe him. And he knows it.  

Reason #276 Why I Hate Rentals

Day three of Carla and Doug. You may remember, they have a two bedroom condo they own. They want to sell it, live off their riches and rent a three bedroom home until the housing market comes crashing down and then scoop up the first starter mansion they find at a reasonable bargain. 

The challenge with most of this is logic Doug has a felony that I have spent an enormous amount of time selling to a variety of people. I have found ONE property management company who will even take an application from them under the circumstances. And honestly, the only reason El Jefe agreed to it was because it was me. And even then, El Jefe made it crystal clear, he wasn't promising success. 

However, there's a new development. It turns out Doug and Carla have credit that is so bad they have a crap-ton in collections. So, even though El Jefe was willing to sell Doug's felony to the landlord, he was blind-sided by the abysmal credit that went along with Doug and Carla's baggage.  

Plus--and this is just ducky--I found out about the abysmal credit from El Jefe because MY OWN CLIENTS NEGLECTED TO MENTION THIS. And this would have saved my sanity and karma had I just known about their credit issues ahead of time. 

This one is on me. I didn't ask about their credit ahead of time. I've done nothing else for the last three days except work this. I've invested about 25 hours of my time and I won't even make my $50 when all is said and done because no landlord is going to take them. 

I hate rentals. 

Life Choices

Disclaimer: If I have ever helped you rent your home or if I have ever helped your find a rental, I love you, cherish your friendship and this post has nothing whatsoever to do with my experiences with you. For the rest of you: I hate rentals. 

So Carla and Doug, who have been living quite contently in their little condo for three or four years have decided to stretch their wings. And, given they only listen to those smarter and more hysterical than me, they want to sell now while the getting is good and then buy during the next housing crash. 

About one-third of the value of their condo is pure equity and their payment is less less than 10 percent of their take-home pay. No matter, they want out now! Therefore, they have tasked me with helping them find a rental. That way they can spend more than 40 percent of their take-home pay on rent, have zero equity and wait for the market to implode. Not that I'm the least bit judgy. 

Of course, there is this tid-bit comes with headaches for yours truly. The first twelve homes they sent me to see all had more than four applications on them. I know this because I talked to twelve agents. There were a few other homes in the mix but those agents don't answer their numerous voicemails/text messages and/or don't have voicemail at all. At any rate, none of them will be getting Doug and Carla's love. 

I tried a different tactic, I started asking agents if they had some rentals coming on the market soon. A few did. But none met Doug and Carla's criteria--which was fine by me. 

Oh yes, I should mention there is another hiccup in this whole scenario. Many years ago before Doug's frontal lobe was fully developed, Doug spent a few years in prison. Now then, before we all jump to wild conclusions, Doug is not the same person he was all those years ago. He is a family man--he even has sole custody of his children! Doug pays taxes and turned his life around. However, his background check will show the inevitable. Therefore, when I started talking to the agents about future properties, I was doing my best to sell Doug as the awesomist dude around (all the while wishing he would just get his record expunged).  

El Jefe might have a property coming up. He thinks the landlord would be chill with Doug's past. That's promising. However, the tenants living in the potential upcoming property aren't moving out very quickly. Last night Doug and Carla put an application in on this house--sight unseen--with the idea if the tenants move out, AND the owner approves, AND they like the place, it could be theirs. That seems like a reasonable life choice given the circumstances, but I can think of a few better. 

Assume Nothing

There's a lot going on in the Sunshine household these days, so I was distracted when I got an e-mail yesterday. It said, "We are selling our condo can you help us find a rental?" First, I didn't recognize the person. Second, I forgot that's kind of what I do for a living. 

As I said, there's a lot of major distractions right now. 

Anyway, I figured out that the person writing me is a past client and the condo in question is one I sold them about three or four years ago. Their rental criteria is reasonable and 42 rental properties popped up on MLS--which means only four of them are probably available. 

My folks have equity in their home and it shouldn't be too hard to sell--assuming I'm the listing agent, which I suppose I shouldn't assume. 

Please Don't Sell Your Back Yard

I got an e-mail from Jeanie. She did call the city about that postage stamp piece of land that had interested her. She wrote to tell me I was right. The land was illegally subdivided. I was pretty sure a homeowner can't sell off their back yard. Also, the person who illegally subdivided is long gone, making the chain of title a bit wonky. 

Jeanie also told me the City said the land is pretty much too small to build a structure. Even if this plot would work, the city requires that the front of the house be 25 feet from the street, 15 feet from the back fence, 10 feet from one side and 3 feet from the other, leaving a space of 17'x17' to put a structure and a covered parking spot (city is requiring a covered parking spot). That means, before covered parking--which if I were the owner I would conveniently forget about under the circumstances, many homes in this neighborhood have no parking--would be 289 square feet. 

Incidentally, I just took a peek. This plot of land is now marked "Pending" in MLS. Now that the City is aware, someone is going to have a potential headache on their hands. But it won't be Jeanie.  

Jeanie

Every so often, I get a random call from a stranger, asking for help. Yesterday is was Jeanie. She has a doozy too. Her son is currently incarcerated in another state. He gets out next year. Then, he needs a place to live. Given the nature of his crime, finding him a rental is probably out of the question. Landlords--especially in this market--have standards, and past sins are a barrier to entry in the renting market. I suspect even landing an apartment might be a bit of a stretch for this guy. 

Because of the nature of his crime, one Jeanie swore was a "mistake," Jeanie's HOA will not let him live where they live. I suggested that perhaps Jeannie might be willing to buy something for her dear son to live in. A possibility, but prices are through the roof and where? 

Jeanie's idea was that if she could buy some land, perhaps they could stick a tiny house or a mobile home on it. She sent me a vacant lot for sale behind the State Capital and asked what I thought of this. Oh... how I hate that question. 

The lot in question was the back yard of another bit of property, that looked to be sold off relatively recently. I am not sure how zoning would feel and told her she needed to get their approval before she did anything else. After all, this might not be a legally subdivided plot. I also told her to make sure power and water are on the property. It will cost a lot of money to run sewer pipes to raw land. And then I dropped this gem on her: I would not represent her in a land sale. I have sold land in the past, but I know enough about this bit of crazy to realize she needs someone smarter than me to help her with it. 

We ended as friends, with me offering to help her find someone who will assist her in buying a $20,000 plot of land the size of my basement. I also suggested she drive around that neighborhood to make sure it is suitable. Because, I am suspecting she may change her mind.  

Babs

Babs has asked me to help find her a rental house. I didn't say no. But I'm not totally invested in doing this. But first, if I have EVER helped you find a rental or rented out your home for you--I am not talking about you. I promise. 

Now then, I hate rentals. I hate them for a variety of reasons, but mostly because the average renter carries around baggage they don't want to share with a potential landlord but they do wear their sense of entitlement on a neon sandwich board for the world to see. Most renters (not talking about you, friend with the cats) feel that looking for a home when they are on the verge of being homeless is a shopping experience that should be savored, week by week. That's all well and good if 1) there were several homes to choose from, but as I might have mentioned, we have an inventory issue right now in the Valley and 2) I get paid about $50 when all is said and done for the three weeks of being lied to and treated like garbage by said potential renter. 

I've had potential rental clients forget they had felonies, bankruptcies, questionable animals, no job and bad credit--even when I've repeatedly asked prior to going out looking. 

Which brings me to Babs. Babs is a 20+ year acquaintance. She doesn't drive. Though she's in her 60s, adulting doesn't seem to be her thing. My take is her life is a bit of a train wreck, but that's only from what I can glean from the big red flags she throws down every time I talk to her. 

Babs wants me to find a, "house with a pool in a nice neighborhood," for under $1,100 a month. I've repeatedly told her I don't decide what a "nice neighborhood" looks like for her. I've also told her what I can find for $1,100 a month doesn't have a private pool--unless you count the blue plastic thing you can get at Wal-Mart. Incidentally, what she can truly afford is $800 a month. 

About twice a week I throw together a list of what I find and send it out. She rejects them all--as would any sensible individual who likes intact roofs and neighborhoods without gang graffiti. 

I've told her to please look at Craigslist, apartments and other types of sources as well as my list. Babs says I'm not trying very hard. She's partially right. I have a reminder on my phone. Twice a week I pull up the MLS and push a button. That's as much work as I'm willing to put into Bab's search until I see more of a realistic commitment from her. 

Introvert Retreat

A morning walk in the desert.

My Writer's Retreat ended last week after 9 days, with a 48 hour break in between where I went home, did laundry and cooked dinner. 

Lilly Harvesting
Saguaro Fruit

During my time away, I managed to make it through the entire book of edits, only to decide it needs more finessing. Think of it like a lump of clay and I'm chiseling away, hoping my sculpture doesn't have an extra large nose, or no nose at all when I'm done. The writing exercise was worth it. But the book needs more love than the nine days I offered it. Right now, I'm burned out on those characters and plot line. Sometimes stories need to brew longer. 

Of note, Lilly's property is situated nowhere near anything. And for whatever reason she wanted the perimeter gate locked at all time. Given it is her house and the price is right, I had no objection. This gave Marty a sense of relief, after all, I was by myself and if some crazy wanted to get me, the locked gate might be another layer of protection. 

However, if some crazy truly wanted to get me, first, they would have had to know where I was. And then, they would have to drive about 15 miles off the Interstate, through the mountain pass, off the main road and then on to a rickety dirt road, past the water tower to the locked gate. Then they had their choice of either scaling the perimeter fence--part of which had razor wire on it or patiently wait until I came waltzing outside to unlock the gate. If they chose to scale the fence, they'd have to deal with the cholla cacti that was everywhere. Then they'd have to come get me, which would be pretty simple as I didn't have cell service. If they wanted to harm me, they'd still have to figure out how to traverse the cholla a second time before hopping back into their vehicle and retracing their steps, because the gate would still be locked.

Additionally, there were signs of life: bunnies, ground squirrels, hawks and what Lilly and I euphemistically referred to as the "extra-large bobcat prints," that ended on the back porch (see pictures below). Not gonna lie, it shoved my fear of snakes to the back burner to think about large cats so willing to come up to the house. Oh yea, there were fat snake tracks too. But I didn't see one up close and personal.  

The invitation is open to try this writing retreat again. It is a lonely existence and I might in the future. Right now I'm enjoying being home. Even this introvert needs people once in a while.  

Bobcat tracks

This "bobcat" print spanned about nine inches.
The tracks went from the edge of the property and ended at the kitchen door. 

This normal sized bobcat print spanned
about three or four inches. Of note, the tire tracks were fresh--I'd returned an hour before the picture was taken, so I'm guessing I had a visitor. Also of note, normal sized bobcats don't frighten me. I've seen plenty in the wild. Mountain lions scare the crap out of me and I've only seen one in the wild.  

Can't We All Just Get Along?

Words to Live By

I will not be attending this month's Grievance Committee meeting. After reading over the cases, I'm kinda sorry. So far (the meeting is next week), we've been given four cases to review. And though I won't be attending, I still needed something for blog fodder. 

We have TWO cases about mean names, hurt feelings and unprofessionalism from other agents. TWO! 

And one of the agents in question was kind enough to put his thoughts into writing, calling his fellow agent a stinky-poopoo cacahead, and a few other tasteless things. In my opinion, this is a violation of Article 15 (which basically states treat each other like your elderly grandmother is coming to dinner). I'm sorry I won't be around to hear the discussions. 

The other case is just as bizarre. Agent Bea said a bunch of nastiness about Agent Alex to a third party and there is some thought that was why the Agent Alex's buyer missed out on the home. I'm perfectly sure it wasn't because there were six other offers and the buyers weren't the best one. It couldn't be that. However, there are those who could verify Agent Bea did say, "Nanny booboo!" and therefore, again, a violation of Article 15. 

It seems to me, that it is perfectly ok to keep one's opinion to themselves. I'm wishing more agents would try that.