Boo

When I told my Marty Sunshine (my husband) I was going to write about this, he asked if I was poking fun at Carolsue. Just for the record, I am not. I have no reason not to believe her. I am just reporting a day in the life. And yes, I realize it is cliche', but I am posting this on Halloween anyway.

Carolsue is convinced there is a ghost in Wayward's former home. I have no evidence to the contrary, nor have I had a chance to ask a neutral third party, such as Baseball Guy or Mr. H., about this. Nor do I have no way to verify her claim. In defense to Carolsue, she has been credible on all sorts of other things, so why not this one? Besides, she is much more open minded than I am on all sorts of things. So, unless I have evidence to the contrary, I will go with Carolsue's assessment.

At first, our ghost--Ms. Rose--was really getting to Carolsue. Poor Carolsue was working the basement one day. She was alone in the house, but she kept hearing footsteps on the first floor. Finally, after walking upstairs for the umpteenth time, she got nervous. Calling over the neighbor and his shotgun, they combed through the home, checking closets and other spaces looking for the intruder. Nobody was found. Five minutes after the neighbor left the footsteps started again.

There have been other strange things. A can of paint mysterious appeared in the middle of a room. And, in another instance, the lid was missing and the paint can tipped over while she was in another room--alone in the house. Just for clarification, I checked to see if there had been any earthquakes in the area recently. Nope.

Recently, Carolsue was at the home working on the floors, when she felt a hand on her back. Thinking it was Baseball Guy, she turned around to find out nobody was there. She screeched so loud Baseball Guy came rushing in from outside to her rescue, only to find Carolsue alone and totally weirded out.

Now that Carolsue is aware she isn't alone, she finds Ms. Rose ok. However, there are misunderstandings. For example, while downstairs, Carolsue called to Jon, her nephew, asking if he could come down and help her. She heard, "yes." But Jon never showed. As she explained to me, if she knew it was Ms. Rose answering, she would have hauled herself back up the stairs and hunted down Jon herself.

After some deliberation, Carolsue and I have come to the conclusion Ms. Rose isn't there to cause destruction or harm. She is just merrily living there, relieved Wayward has moved on and grateful for all the work Carolsue is doing in the property. Carolsue now interprets the hand on the back event as Ms. Rose was really thanking her for taking care of the place.

As a responsible landlord, I want to make sure I am on good terms with all the occupants of my property. I have asked Carolsue to relay a message to Ms. Rose, telling her I am very sorry about the former tenants and how they treated the home. Assuring her the new folks seem to be much more together. Hopefully that will quell any potential tenant-phantom issues.

Common Sense

Although she isn't moving in for a few weeks, Ms. Robin had a couple of concerns about the home. She didn't voice them with me. Instead, she wrote to Carolsue. The biggest of these issues was the garage door was apparently broken where "someone" tried to lift it up. The other one was much more minor: a leaky exterior faucet.

Upon recieving Ms. Robin's e-mail, Carolsue was floored. She had just spent several hours at the house and returned to her home less than an hour earlier to this bit of news. What broken garage door? What faucet?

A bit unnerved, Carolsue drove back over to Wayward's former home/Ms. Robin's soon to be home, to find these two issues. Sure enough, the garage door was open about two feet and would not come back down. The exterior faucet, was indeed dripping. But, the faucet was in the back of the house. Ms. Robin would only know it was leaking (because it wasn't originally) if she had been nosing around.

Carolsue, not sure what do do about the garage door, asked me what I thought. She said if someone wanted to lift it, it would probably break again. Her solution was to permanently nail it shut so that it wouldn't be broken next time someone pried it open.

I have a better solution. It seems to me, if Ms. Robin doesn't want the garage door broken, perhaps she shouldn't pry it up to sneak in the home. Just like if she doesn't want a draft, it might be best not to break a window.

Isn't the Internet Great?

The major hotel chain I use when I travel has a reservations desk in the Philippines. I found this out when I called them last May, looking for a room off of Interstate 70 in Missouri. I specifically told the person on the line I wanted to stay in Booneville or Columbia.

The reservations attendant told me they had a room in "Kay-nis City." When I asked for clarification she said, "Kay-nis? Isn't that one of your states?"

"Where are you located?" I asked.

"In Topeka."

Today I called again, needing to book my room in Birmingham. My specific hotel transferred me to the reservations center. I swear it was the same reservations attendant I had before. Although she was polite and efficient, I would have preferred a bit of honesty.

When I clarified the hotel I wanted to stay at, explaining there are several in the Birmingham area, she said, "I am in Birmingham." And, I don't even know why she volunteered that. Really! I was ok thinking she was in the Philippines. I have a lot more tolerance for language barriers when I know I am talking with someone in another country.

I couldn't help myself. "Uh-huh? What's the weather like today."

"It's nice." She replied.

"Really! What is the temperature."

"Um..." (I heard typing in the background.) "It's 66 degrees."

I had just talked with Mrs. 508 who told me it was in the low 40s! Immediately, I went to Yahoo weather and found out it said the high in Birmingham was expected to be 66 degrees.

Does Hallmark Have an "I'm Sorry About Your Loss, Now Pay Up" Greeting Card?

Remember Mr. D. the collections attorney helping me out? Two months ago he dropped me, saying he couldn't find the Good Pastor or the woman I sent his way for collection.

It was a pleasant break-up. After all, I wasn't out anything other than a few phone calls and more opportunities to boss around this seriously nice man. We left everything on good terms, with Mr. D., promising to look into this again if anything came up. "Anything" being if I could find these folks myself.

Today I came across an interesting piece in the Birmingham News. The woman I was looking for--and owes me enough back rent to make this worthwhile--has an ex-husband who owns several businesses in Alabama and Florida. He died recently. She has minor children with him. With any luck, there will be a public record with her address soon if not already. Perhaps Mr. D. can revisit his search!

I happen to like this woman. I was sorry to see her go. During a happier time in her and my relationship, she would call once in a while to say hello. It was always fun to talk with her. We had a lot in common and I would say she was my first tenant-friend. During my quarterly Birmingham pilgramages, I would make a point to call her and tell her I was in town. We would visit for hours, like old friends.

Of course, this is why she owes me back rent. Quick tip: don't become friendly with tenants. I am not bitter about how things ended. She left without putting me through a legal mess. I don't let my personal fondness for her get in the way of the business relationship. She owes and I want my money.

I contemplated sending her an e-mail or a card (to her old address of course) offering my condolences to her and her children. But, I suppose under the circumstances it would be tacky. Because, once I knew how to get in touch with her, so would Mr. D. Then, I would be able to garnish her wages. So, even though I really do feel for her, I won't take advantage of the situation. Besides, she is probably too savvy to acknowledge me. After all, she knows she owes me money too.

I wonder how Emily Post would handle this?

In Case You are Considering This

The best way to buy a rental home is for cash. If you don't have the money lying around, I recommend a hefty down payment. Being under-capitalized really sucks.

Coincidence or Conspiracy?

My plumber tells me there are three major hot water distributors in Birmingham. All three are closed this weekend to conduct inventory. My plumber offered to buy a hot water heater from a major home improvement store. But if he does that, it will cost significantly more and they won't warranty it.

Timing

Hot water heaters always have uncanny timing. If they are going to self destruct, they will do it on Saturdays. Before 8 a.m.

Even The Good Ones Need Attention

On Monday, I basked in the knowledge I had no major tenant issues. It was a glorious day. Tuesday that changed.

My two best tenants e-mailed me Tuesday. One lost her job months ago and her situation has now reached critical mass. After discussing it with Mr. Partner we came to the conclusion she was worth keeping. Her disability starts in a few months. Things will work out.

Mr. Smith may have caused destruction to our bank balance, but not to our common sense. We started our company to help people. Mr. Partner reminded me of that yesterday. Reducing rent to cover our mortgage will will keep someone worth keeping.

The other wonderful tenant sent a note saying there was a problem with the oven and the water pressure. She talked to the water department and they explained the problem. But, she neglected to mention what the water problem really was in her e-mail. However, I gave her the name of the plumber and my appliance repair person.

This stuff used to frighten me. And, to the novice landlord it would probably be ultra-scary. Nah... this is all part of doing business. And, it sure beats some of the other things I have experienced lately.

Where Do I Start?

I got a survey from my insurance company wanting (their words) "an honest assessment" of my experience with Alpha Adjuster and Alpha Boss.

In the ultra-professional chirpy manner, this form letter said: "Please provide us with any feedback to help us better serve our customers in the future."

Ah, so many words... so little time....

Memory Lane

Today's post is brought to you by Procrastination Anonymous. Basically, I am ignoring the pile o'stuff that needs to head out to Bliz and the property tax analysis I am doing.

True phone call from a couple of years ago. This tenant has since moved on, but it is one of my favorite landlord calls.

Brenda: Ma'am, I wanted to let you know a twister came through here a few hours ago. There's been some damage.

Me: Oh no! Is everyone ok.

Brenda: Yes ma'am. However, a tree was uprooted. It landed square on my car. I can send you pictures if you want me to.

Me: Yes please. How much damage is done to your car?

Brenda: The car is pretty bad. The tree crushed the roof and the hood. The windows are busted out. But, don't worry about that. My husband can remove the branches. I was just wondering do y'all need me to plant a new tree?

Looking Up

It appears I have my two vacant homes rented. Or they will be rented come mid-November. I have passed muster with Ms. Robin's tedious reference request (did she call, Bliz?). It also did my sorry ego good to know I have at least three tenants who were willing to stand up for me. I know Ms. Robin called at least one of them.

I wasn't quite sure Ms. Robin was going to sign the lease, so I put an ad in the paper. When my phone starts ringing at some unholy hour Sunday morning, it will go straight to my voice mail--which will say, oops! The house you are calling about is rented. This will be the first Sunday in six weeks I don't have a reason to answer my phone before 10 a.m.

My house in Leeds is being rented out to a young couple. Ms. Betty is so excited. She even got rid of her dogs just so the place will stay cleaner. I cringed when she mentioned that. Perhaps it is for the best the dogs are gone.

Carolsue must be exhausted. I can't wait to see her final bill. But it will be worth what she is charging me to have this done and behind us. Alpha Boss sent me a check yesterday for Baseball Guy's security service. He had to live on the property for a few days during the lulu crisis.

On Wednesday, I have a meeting with Mr. Partner. We are going to go over the books. We are going to go over all the fun stuff from the past few months--all of which he is aware of in some form or another, but I don't think he has connected the dots. He is going to find out our business lost money. But, just like my husband and me, he is committed to this for the long haul.

I am going to go on the record here. Even though I am having to work with some of my tenants, and I still have the Mr. Smith stupidity looming, I think the worst times are behind us.

To Know Me is to ______.

Ms. Betty called today. She has put an application in on the house in Leeds. In fact, of all the strange coincidences, her pastor's mother lives across the street, two homes over. (Ms. Betty is assuming I will not hold this against her.) The pastor's mother is one of her references.

During one of the many calls today, Ms. Betty said, "I have never had to go through so much to rent a home before." In her next breath, she naively mentioned she was surprised I called her references.

Why do I call references? Not because I expect these folks will say anything negative. I just want to verify the phone number, just in case I ever need to get in touch with someone who knows my tenant. And, I have had occasion to do so.

Ms. Robin also called me today. She is interested in renting out Wayward's home. She wanted references on me. She wanted to make sure I wasn't planning on skipping out on my bills and taking her deposit, thus causing her to be homeless.

My assessment of Ms. Robin went up a notch. I think it is fair for her to rightfully make sure I am legitimate. After all, she is entering a business relationship with a perfect stranger. Hopefully I will pan out too.

The Joys of Caller ID

I called the HVAC company yesterday morning. I wasn't greeted with a pleasant voice, announcing the name of the company and asking how they may help me.

Instead, the pleasant voice greeted me with, "Good morning, Ma'am. Will this be a call to home we have already been to or is it a new one?"

I called the plumber too. Karen answered the phone with, "How are you today ma'am. How's the weather in Arizona?"

I Wonder if James has Children?

On Sunday, Carolsue called. It was a blessing. You see, my in-laws are visiting this week and my father was also over. Instead of being there for their intended purpose--celebrating my six year old's birthday, they were busy discussing all things me.

My father, a staunch socialist, and my father in law, a serious right-wing conservative, were giving me their loving, but unsolicited, opinions about politics, property management, real estate markets of Arizona and Alabama, home schooling philosophies, the state of the economy, the presidential election, my parenting style and anything else they could possibly include in their diatribe. My husband had excused himself hours earlier, to search the garage for some obscure tool he needed right then and there. He had not been seen since. So, Carolsue's call, sadly, was the highlight of the afternoon.

It appears, there seems to be some sort of major water leak at Wayward's former home. Before I could turn on the tact filter, the first thing out of my mouth was, "Carolsue, please stop calling me with bad news on Sundays." After all, this is the second Sunday in a row Carolsue has called me with some sort of immediate crisis. Of course, both fathers were actively listening to my groans as I ingested all of Carolsue's great news. As soon as I hung up, they had new fodder.

With nothing that could be done until Monday (now that Baseball Guy turned off the water), I called James. James is my carpet installer. I really hate to even admit I have my own personal carpet installer. But, well... I do.

I found James through Jack. Jack found him through the Birmingham paper. The ad said,"Carpet installed cheap. Cash only." I haven't asked a lot of questions about James or his business. I do know--now that James has done a bit of work for me--James works fast. His carpet is good quality. And, true to his ad, he is cheap. According to Carolsue, James is a former Hell's Angel who gave up the biker life for a vocation in interior design. She says he looks the part and he does great work. What more could a girl ask for in a carpet guy?

James was supposed to show up on Monday. Actually, he was supposed to have shown up last Monday. But, last Sunday I had to call him and cancel. Now, two weeks in a row, James was none-too happy. James has a cash only business. He had already bought all the materials for this house. He already hired his workers. He was ready to go. until I called. Again.

As part of his preferred clientele, I get perks. One of them is James rescheduling his life to install carpeting. But, he only does this once. The second time, there is a price to pay. The price this time was simple: he dumped his frustration out on me. He had a lot to say too. Apparently, James' cheap carpet installation is in high demand and he doesn't have time to mess around with flakes who have crises out of their control two weeks in a row. I might have taken this a bit personally if I hadn't just spent the last hour hearing all the things I could improve in my life from Dad and Dad-In-Law.

Instead, James got to hear my rant. So did the Dads. My skin is tough when it comes to former Hell's Angels. It is the fathers who give me ulcers.

I said, "Look James, do you think I planned this? If you don't have time, I can certainly find someone else to handle this. I understand you are busy." Actually, I was bluffing. Because if he takes me off his preferred clientele list, I don't really have a back up.

James backed off with a sincere Southern apology ("I am sorry Ma'am, I know this must be tough for you. I know you didn't plan these things to happen. You just call me when you are ready and I will be there.")

This morning, at some horrid hour, my phone rang. It was James. He was at Wayward's home. And he decided to install everything he could and leave the rest for later. He just wanted me to know. Right then and there. Apparently, this was his idea of a truce.

Here's a Sentence I Never Thought I Would Write

James, the Hell's Angels biker-turned-carpet installer, chewed me out today.

Lulu

Alpha-Boss might have a soul.

Recently, Carolsue discovered more damage at Wayward's home. To put it mildly, it is a lulu. And, if you are going to have a lulu of a challenge in a rental home, don't have this particular challenge in Arizona or California. So far, thanks to Legal Eagle's research, it appears Alabama is the state for this one. But, I don't wish this lulu on anyone.

I also learned a valuable lesson. If you are a landlord and you get a lulu of a problem on a Sunday afternoon. Call your attorney right then and there. Don't let them find out Monday while they are listening to the morning news during their commute. Secondhand lulu hearsay is not appreciated.

My latest challenge required me to bring back all of the players to Wayward's home. Lana, graciously told me she contacted Alpha Boss. During one of our first early e-mails, I wrote her and cc'd half the people in charge saying, "I do not want any hassle from Alpha Boss or Alpha Adjuster over this."

So far, I am not getting it. It is as if Alpha Boss recognized perhaps he and his three adjusters missed a big lulu the first time and are doing what they can to remedy the situation. Alpha Boss, Alpha Adjuster (the one who normally doesn't work any day but Tuesday) and some other related folks personally went out to the home Monday morning, looking at what they obviously missed.

During my three ultra-professional conversations with Alpha Boss this week, he has not uttered, "I am giving you the benefit of the doubt." Instead, he has his checkbook out and keeps asking if there is anything else I need. Alpha Boss has been completely swell. I am getting prompt service, quick return calls and lots of immediate action. He even uttered, "bless your heart." Right now, my heart needs all the blessings it can get.

Until my lulu challenge is resolved, no other work can be done at the house. I am not able to finish having the repairs made. I have cancelled the carpet guy, the plumber and a few other folks. I am twiddling my thumbs, making up benign excuses to potential tenants to explain why the home isn't ready. My latest brilliantly understated bit of prose: "There's a bit more work to be done."

Alpha Boss is covering my rent for October. So far, no potential tenant is deterred by the delay.

The Odd Couple

I have to admit, I expected Wayward's home to be a serious pain to rent out. As Ms. Marie from the Birmingham News explained to me when I posted my ad in the papers, "Ma'am, we have known each other for a while now. I think of you as a friend. So, I'll just tell it like it is, you are asking $300 more for rent than anything else in the area."

I knew I was asking a lot for the neighborhood. I wasn't ready to drop the price. My rule is three weeks at my price. If no bites, then I lower it. So far, I have never had to lower rents. In this case, I didn't know if I could go $300 less and still pay the mortgage. I knew the neighborhood was rough. What I didn't know was the neighborhood was rough because of Wayward. So, the trash now gone, the neighborhood has gotten back to the quiet, out-of-the-way haven it once was.

Everyone who has called about Wayward's house is interested. They don't whine about the deposits. And, even Ms. Thomas showed up today and wowed "Ms. Carolsue." I have two applications. Too bad the work isn't completed. And because of a few recent surprises, the work will not be completed for at least another week. Maybe two. But these folks don't care! They are willing to wait.

I thought the house in Leeds would be a cinch to rent. And, if I lowered my standards, I could get this place rented in about 10 minutes to one of the 12 looses who called today.

I naively thought the rent on the house in Leeds would bring in an influx of qualified tenants. It is doing the opposite. I am getting bombarded by lunatics with attitude problems. One person today told me my deposits were "ridiculous." Whatever happened to a dull, "thank you" and a hang up?

The polite, well spoken and gainfully employed (27 years with the State) gentleman got my attention when he called the other day. He didn't have pets. It was just he and his wife who wanted to down size and have a simpler life. I really hoped he would call Carolsue. Instead, today his wife called back. The second time she asked why I wouldn't just drop everything and head on over and show her the property (because I am out of town, but I would be delighted to have Carolsue show it to you later this week) she got snippy. "Ma'am. I just don't think I like you. You are lying to me." And, with that, she slammed down the phone.

Another person called me for the third time in two days to again renegotiate the deposits. He said his three dogs were were outdoor animals. Therefore he didn't feel he had to pay a deposit for them. Dogs still make holes in the yard. Dogs still chew up door frames. Dogs still come in the house when it is raining or tornadoes hit.

He then told me he didn't see a reason to pay a cleaning deposit. "The place will be clean when I leave," he said. Of course it will! I know this because if I rent to you, I am going to take your deposit and hire someone to clean the place.

The same guy bickered about the application fee. This is a fee I pay to the credit company. He announced he would just give me his credit report and then he wouldn't have to pay the fee. I told him I conduct a background, felony, eviction search--none of which would show up on a credit report. This genius told me it is a violation of his civil rights to conduct those searches. I know if he signs my application where it states I will be conducting those searches, I have done nothing wrong. If he wants to rent my house, he signs the application.

But, that aside, he was really screaming volumes he was unaware he was telling me. If he is whining over a $50 credit application, I am going to have trouble once a month when the rent is due. We will never be on equal ground. He will always want the upper hand. He will always feel like I am doing him wrong somehow. It will get ugly because I don't follow his rules. Instead I follow the rules of our lease. This guy is trouble.

It has gotten to the point where I don't even want to answer my Birmingham phone, for fear it is the next weirdo wanting to rent out the house in Leeds. In all fairness, weirdos are plenty in Leeds. I just don't want them renting from me.

I finally figured out why I am not getting any more calls on Waywards' former house since this weekend. Anyone who is interested in the house holds down a job during the week.

The people in Leeds are calling during the week because they are bored and need a hobby.

I'm Just Saying...

Who woulda thought I would ever need a crash course in Alabama meth lab abatement laws?

Please Stop Calling Me

Spike called again today. Actually, I spoke with a few Spike-types. Is it really asking too much for a potential renter to put on their best meet-and-greet manners? Or, is it really too much to ask for Spike to read the ad?

Lest you think there is some confusion about my ability to communicate, here is the ad that ran this weekend:

Leeds: $850/month, 3 bedroom, 2 bath, remodeled, large fenced back yard, shed, rent to own avail. Poor credit ok.

Every time Spike called today, his first question was always how many bedrooms did the home have? The next question: how many bathrooms?

At this point, I would say, "Gee, did I not include that in the ad? I am so sorry."

Right out of the play book, Spike then would reply, "Oh, it's right here. I see it in the ad... How much are you asking for rent?"

Spike seems to be missing the big picture. This is one way I thin out the garden of potential rental candidates. Paying attention is part of my criteria for good tenants.

If we can get through this part of the initial interview, Spike will then ask about my deposits. For whatever reason, my deposit answer is stumping my pool of callers today. Just for the sake of debate, let me try this out on my readers. My deposits are:

Security (refundable): $700
Cleaning (non-refundable): $250
Pets--approved by landlord (partially refundable): $250
Credit Check (non-refundable): $50
Total deposits: $1250
First month's rent: $850
Total due at move-in: $2100

Most everyone I know over the age of 30 has in some time or another rented a place to live. For whatever reason, my answer is throwing people for a loop. I have a hard time thinking deposits are a thing of the past. I have a hard time believing I am the only person in the greater Birmingham area asking for deposits.

One person, completely flabbergasted over my high priced deposits threw in a red herring, telling me me it was discrimination to charge extra for his dalmatian. I hated to break it to him, but dalmatians are on my list of non-approved pets. In case it ever comes up, so are king cobras--even caged ones. Spike's sister, Spikette, asked me that today.

First Impressions Do Matter

I am advertising two homes for rent in today's paper. My Birmingham phone has been ringing since some horrid hour this morning. The callers break down into two types. The ones who think they want to rent from me and who have no chance.

Typical call from a potential rental candidate:

Hello, my name is Mrs. Grace Prudence, I saw your ad in the paper. Can you tell me about the home you have for rent?

Typical call from a soon-to-be-rejected rental candidate:

Hey, this is Spike. What'cha got going on with that house?

Come on people. Get it together!

The Name Game

When I spoke with Ms. Thomas earlier this week, it immediately struck me as odd that she introduced herself as "Ms. Thomas" but refused to call me by my last name. As I didn't know her first name, I just overlooked it and went on with our conversation. No matter, I never really expected I would hear from her again. And, I haven't.

However, Carolsue has. A lot. Ms. Thomas--who refuses to call Carolsue anything but "Carolsue," keeps correcting Carolsue when she refers to Ms. Thomas as "Corrine."

The formal way to address someone isn't my rule. Up until a few years ago, it wouldn't have been on my radar. It is a Southern thing. And, in a place where manners and decorum still are a forefront to their society, no self-respcting person from the South starts a conversation by calling a stranger by their first name. It was one of the very first lessons I learned when I started doing business in the South.

Apparently, everyone is Mr. or Ms. unless they tell you otherwise. If you don't know Mary's last name, you would refer to her as "Miss. Mary." Or, if you know she is married, it is "Mrs. Mary." The same goes for men. Mr. Jack was my agent until he gave me permission to call him Jack. (which was three nano-seconds after we were introduced).

However, once the other person calls you by only your first name, all bets are off. So, unless Ms. Thomas is a 70 year matronly old woman who may have earned her title, there is no reason why she is "Ms. Thomas" to Carolsue when she won't return the same courtesy.

Carolsue, who was born and raised in the South, and I discussed this. You see, Ms. Thomas has called Carolsue no less than 25 times in three days. The first several voice mails got progressively snippier, as Carolsue wasn't available in the three hour time frame these calls came in to return them.

Because Carolsue doesn't live very close to Wayward's former home, she can't just drop everything and show up. As ready as Ms. Thomas is to waltz through there, measuring the rooms to ensure her furnature fits, it just isn't practical. In fact, I don't even want any potential tenant in the home until the place is ready--which won't be until next Monday.

Ms. Thomas however won't be deterred. She is demanding special dispensation from Carolsue. Carolsue isn't budging and neither am I. There are saftey issues. And, although sometimes I forget the power structure between the two of us, I am pretty sure Carolsue works for me. Ms. Thomas doesn't see it that way. There is a potential place to live calling her name. Apparently she wants it. And, she wants to move in next weekend.

Not one to be intimitdated, Carolsue tells me she has started playing the equal footing game with Ms. Thomas.

CS: Look Corrine, I can't get over there until next week.
MT: It's Ms. Thomas, Carolsue...
CS: Corrine, It doesn't matter who y'all think you are. I still won't be there until next week.
MT: My name is Ms. Thomas.

This power struggle isn't really my concern. Carolsue can hold her own. Always looking for a new hobby, I can just see Carolsue lighting up a cigarrette, propping her feet up on her overstuffed ottoman, sitting back, ready to "Corrine" Ms. Thomas for the next few hours.

As for me? I am getting lots of calls on this place. And, so far Ms. Thomas is the only one who called me by my first name.

Be Still My Beating Heart

The housing market currently is causing a bit of grief for more than a fair share of homeowners. In late 2006 to early 2007, the the Phoenix real estate market had hypertension and clogged arteries. For the past 18 months, this same market has been vacillating between cardiac arrest and life support.

I can just see well meaning folks getting together, lighting candles and holding vigil outside the local MLS office, praying for a speedy recovery to the current housing market. And, somewhere there is a self-righteous real estate investor telling all of us, if the housing market had eaten right, exercised and given up its indulgent habits, maybe there wouldn't be this problem.

Up until early this year, I was smug in the knowledge that I bucked this downfall by investing out of state. Birmingham didn't have the significant housing boom a few years ago the way Phoenix did. The housing boom there only inflated inflate a home's price by about $10,000--not $100,000. So, I breathed an errant sigh of relief, not accounting for the fact the home prices there usually start below $100,000.

Recently, the Phoenix market started showing signs of life. The bandages are still on. The oxygen tank still attached. Damage has been done to the values, but people have started buying. Lending regulations are tight. But for folks with good credit and money down (the way homes were bought as little as ten years ago), homes are available.

Birmingham however, which may have missed the super-over-inflated pricing, is still suffering the ill effects of the economic crunch and the former ultra-lax loan standards. Where we Phoenicians may be uncomfortable, these folks are hemorrhaging.

And, they are bleeding in my homes. Right now, I am working deals with more than fifty percent of my tenants. They are paying. Just not on my time frame. It isn't the scenario I want. But, it keeps them going. It keeps me going.

Every time a home sells in one of the neighborhoods where I own property, Jack sends me an e-mail, giving me the particulars(and yes, the values are down). With today's e-mail, he sweetly sent it with an unsolicited plan of action, "Rent them for what you can get and hold on to them for the long run."

All of this isn't news to me. And, I am not sure who he is helping with this advice. Afer all, real estate is his livelihood. This is just my all-encompassing hobby.

Today I wrote Jack back, explaining the Phoenix market is starting to show signs of life. Granted, prices are down, but inventory is moving. That's the first step. Stimulate demand.

I assured him Birmingham can't be too far behind. In fact, it might even be just be a heartbeat away from turning around, with a much longer time devoted to recovery. And, if it doesn't work this way, it will be straight to the cardiologist for those of us investors who didn't eat right and exercise.

An Excedrin Moment

Although I mean this in the nicest way, Mr. and Mrs. 508 are part of the reason the vein in my temple is ready to explode. The 508s are going through a tough time. They don't complain about their woes. But, I can tell. The obvious way is how they have become a bit lax on this whole rent thing.

Today they came clean. Mr. 508 was laid off from his job. They were ready to move out--they just needed me to say the word. What they didn't know is I have two vacant homes and one Mr. Smith. The "word" was NO. I am already on the verge of a pounding headache. Another vacant home and I will have a full-fledged migraine.

I admire Mrs. 508 for contacting me. That is a tough call to make. Even tougher was her saying, "I am not doing right by you and want to give you back your home." Even worse, I suspect she was bracing herself, ready for me to transform into a lunatic-landlord. The poor lady is pregnant. Even if I wanted to bite her head off, I can't do that to an expecting mother.

I told her by breaking her lease, her deposits are non-refundable. So, she didn't really have any money to move anyway. She had most of what she owed me. And, I will have it by Thursday. Mr. 508 is highly employable. Mrs. 508 has a part-time job. They can work this out. Moving seems drastic.

I refuse to add this to my pile'o drama. A girl just has to have priorities. Yes, I am annoyed. But, theirs is a short-term problem. More importantly, it isn't my biggest headache. Right now, they can pay enough to cover my mortgage payment for the next month or two. If they are committed to getting through this hurdle, we all be better off down the road. Otherwise, I will take two aspirin and kick them out in November.