I had another blog ready to go. But frankly, my January has been horrible. I would rather leave my next blog for February. So, feel free to pick the tenant this most resembles. I can't decide.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Details, Details, Details
I e-mailed Kirby on Wednesday asking for an update. I specifically gave him a list of all I wanted to know, making sure to highlight the parts that were important to me and my stomach lining. And, just to sweeten the pot, I told him if he answers I promise to stop pestering him. At least for today.
Lo and behold! Kirby responded within an hour. His answers were concise, but contained more information in them than he had relayed in the past week. One of the really great parts, was he shared with me how totally awesome the woman in Fultondale is--now that she paid. And, the check is in the mail.
Kirby also told me he is starting the eviction for Leeds tomorrow. In the event you are astonished that it took Kirby a week to get this going, I'm not. Nothing, and I mean nothing, ever happens according to the Roman calendar in the South.
Except college football games. Don't be late. And be sure to chant, "Roll Tide!" or watch the game at your own risk. Consider yourself warned.
Making sure to give praise where it was due, I thanked Kirby for getting back with me with his augmented explanations that left no room for additional questions from me. I even promised not to bug him until Friday. And, just to hopefully promote further goodwill, I said, "Have a good weekend if I forget to call you Friday."
Lo and behold! Kirby responded within an hour. His answers were concise, but contained more information in them than he had relayed in the past week. One of the really great parts, was he shared with me how totally awesome the woman in Fultondale is--now that she paid. And, the check is in the mail.
Kirby also told me he is starting the eviction for Leeds tomorrow. In the event you are astonished that it took Kirby a week to get this going, I'm not. Nothing, and I mean nothing, ever happens according to the Roman calendar in the South.
Except college football games. Don't be late. And be sure to chant, "Roll Tide!" or watch the game at your own risk. Consider yourself warned.
Making sure to give praise where it was due, I thanked Kirby for getting back with me with his augmented explanations that left no room for additional questions from me. I even promised not to bug him until Friday. And, just to hopefully promote further goodwill, I said, "Have a good weekend if I forget to call you Friday."
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Yes, You Do Need A Sweater!
I sure do like Kirby. Except he has this annoying habit of spoon feeding me information. One might deem his responses to to my questions as utterly useless. But, I am sure to him they are filled with meaning that should not be questioned.
For example:
Me: "Kirby, I am going outside. Do I need to wear a sweater today."
Kirby: "The sun is up."
Of course, this is done with me leaving a voice mail and him responding much later in the day with an e-mail, so these particular conversations drag on for longer than necessary, with me getting more testy with each passing voice/e-mail.
On Monday, after a maddening few days of getting (what I consider) half responses to relevant questions, I was done. My mind was spinning with all sorts of scenarios that probably weren't true. I left him a message telling him this mode of communication wasn't working for me, and reiterated my questions.
Kudos to Kirby for looking for a "working" solution and thinking outside the box. Kirby sent me two e-mails, breaking down the topics I repeatedly called about and sort of answering my questions, but not by enough so that I was satisfied.
Tuesday I called him, leaving him a much more terse message, telling him he was to call me back. I think I forgot to say please.
One of the really great things I like about Kirby is his ability to pick up the subtleties of a bitchy woman. He didn't disappoint there. And this time he called back, acting like nothing was wrong.
I started our chat with: "You aren't hanging up until I am done with this conversation because you are impossible to get in touch with."
He dutifully responded with a, "Yes ma'am," and I suspect he muttered "bless your heart" under his breath.
What I wanted to know was some details about what is happening with the home in Leeds. Did they pay? Do we have a security deposit? Are they moving out? Do we need an attorney? Do you have an attorney who is volumes cheaper than Legal Eagle? Have you started the process of evicting or are you waiting for me to give the go-ahead (and I sure hope not, because I gave the go-ahead LAST WEEK).
When that was covered (no, sorta, he doesn't know, yes, yes he does and not yet), we moved on to my home in Fultondale. Where was the rent? It was due on the 1st. This particular tenant was in a bad car accident a few months ago. I have been more lenient about this because she had been communicating with Kirby. It turns out she is now back at work (news to both Kirby and I) and rent was on its way. Kirby and I discussed a strategy to get her back on track. And more importantly, when I could see the rent payment for January. Last I checked it was the 25. The mortgage was due in six days.
Being the quasi-consummate professional I pretend to think I am, I didn't really go into my levels of disappoint with him. I will save that for another time. Hopefully, it will never come up. I would like to think maybe he got the message: answer my questions and I will stop calling over and over.
Last year I found out Kirby is managing about as many homes as I own plus a few more. And, I gave him two more this fall. That really is a lot for one Kirby to manage. I know this first hand. I have four off my plate and I am feeling much better. I have since found out he is considerably larger, buying out another property management competitor.
So, his new inventory right now is a handful--especially with a deadbeat grandma to deal with and a persnickety landlord with credible control issues. My long term goal is to give Kirby all my homes. But for now, I am waiting to see some better results with the ones I gave him. Or, at least hear better responses.
For example:
Me: "Kirby, I am going outside. Do I need to wear a sweater today."
Kirby: "The sun is up."
Of course, this is done with me leaving a voice mail and him responding much later in the day with an e-mail, so these particular conversations drag on for longer than necessary, with me getting more testy with each passing voice/e-mail.
On Monday, after a maddening few days of getting (what I consider) half responses to relevant questions, I was done. My mind was spinning with all sorts of scenarios that probably weren't true. I left him a message telling him this mode of communication wasn't working for me, and reiterated my questions.
Kudos to Kirby for looking for a "working" solution and thinking outside the box. Kirby sent me two e-mails, breaking down the topics I repeatedly called about and sort of answering my questions, but not by enough so that I was satisfied.
Tuesday I called him, leaving him a much more terse message, telling him he was to call me back. I think I forgot to say please.
One of the really great things I like about Kirby is his ability to pick up the subtleties of a bitchy woman. He didn't disappoint there. And this time he called back, acting like nothing was wrong.
I started our chat with: "You aren't hanging up until I am done with this conversation because you are impossible to get in touch with."
He dutifully responded with a, "Yes ma'am," and I suspect he muttered "bless your heart" under his breath.
What I wanted to know was some details about what is happening with the home in Leeds. Did they pay? Do we have a security deposit? Are they moving out? Do we need an attorney? Do you have an attorney who is volumes cheaper than Legal Eagle? Have you started the process of evicting or are you waiting for me to give the go-ahead (and I sure hope not, because I gave the go-ahead LAST WEEK).
When that was covered (no, sorta, he doesn't know, yes, yes he does and not yet), we moved on to my home in Fultondale. Where was the rent? It was due on the 1st. This particular tenant was in a bad car accident a few months ago. I have been more lenient about this because she had been communicating with Kirby. It turns out she is now back at work (news to both Kirby and I) and rent was on its way. Kirby and I discussed a strategy to get her back on track. And more importantly, when I could see the rent payment for January. Last I checked it was the 25. The mortgage was due in six days.
Being the quasi-consummate professional I pretend to think I am, I didn't really go into my levels of disappoint with him. I will save that for another time. Hopefully, it will never come up. I would like to think maybe he got the message: answer my questions and I will stop calling over and over.
Last year I found out Kirby is managing about as many homes as I own plus a few more. And, I gave him two more this fall. That really is a lot for one Kirby to manage. I know this first hand. I have four off my plate and I am feeling much better. I have since found out he is considerably larger, buying out another property management competitor.
So, his new inventory right now is a handful--especially with a deadbeat grandma to deal with and a persnickety landlord with credible control issues. My long term goal is to give Kirby all my homes. But for now, I am waiting to see some better results with the ones I gave him. Or, at least hear better responses.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Must Gos
When I was little, my mother would often serve "must-gos." It was the 1970s, there was a recession going on. My father worked construction--when he had a job. In my childhood, a luxury item consisted of new shoelaces for the handmedown sneakers some family friend had passed my way.
Must-gos were combined foods: spaghetti, English muffins and peas that all were on the end of their life cycle. They were combined in a variety of ways to form our daily cuisine. Mom came up with this clever name to disguise what they really were: leftovers on the edge.
I have some must-go tenants right now. They are also leftovers on the edge. They should have been long gone, but I put up with them a smattering longer than necessary just because they wanted to play. These are the Haroldines, Ms. Kathy and Ms. Shirleys of the world. I think of them as a bean soup. Add another can of broth and the soup can go on indefinitely. They augmented their shelf life, getting a bit more time by adding preservatives (in this case rent) to my bank account. However, they still give me stomach ache when I have to deal with them.
The other must-go are the tenants who should never have been allowed in the first place--the Grandmother and her five grandchildren in Leeds. Yes, two weeks into their lease and they violated the basic rules: pay the rent. So, now I am having to clean out the pantry again. I am in the process of sanitizing and deodorizing, all because they were beyond salvageable before they even moved in. I am doing this all in hopes that we can get someone in there that is truly palatable.
Must-gos were combined foods: spaghetti, English muffins and peas that all were on the end of their life cycle. They were combined in a variety of ways to form our daily cuisine. Mom came up with this clever name to disguise what they really were: leftovers on the edge.
I have some must-go tenants right now. They are also leftovers on the edge. They should have been long gone, but I put up with them a smattering longer than necessary just because they wanted to play. These are the Haroldines, Ms. Kathy and Ms. Shirleys of the world. I think of them as a bean soup. Add another can of broth and the soup can go on indefinitely. They augmented their shelf life, getting a bit more time by adding preservatives (in this case rent) to my bank account. However, they still give me stomach ache when I have to deal with them.
The other must-go are the tenants who should never have been allowed in the first place--the Grandmother and her five grandchildren in Leeds. Yes, two weeks into their lease and they violated the basic rules: pay the rent. So, now I am having to clean out the pantry again. I am in the process of sanitizing and deodorizing, all because they were beyond salvageable before they even moved in. I am doing this all in hopes that we can get someone in there that is truly palatable.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Prudence
I'm working on taxes today. And the washing machine died a painful, watery death today. There is a glass of wine calling my name when I get to a stopping point.
The kids are cowering somewhere else. Marty Sunshine is staying far away and pops his head into the office every so often to say things like, "would you like some chocolate?"
I am cursing Diamond Jim's name. He hasn't written me back with the answer to "can I write off my purchases to Goodwill Industrustries?" Speaking of writing back, Bliz has about 27 e-mails sitting in her in box from me with expenses I found that need to be accounted for.
Well now... Seeing as this is a family blog, it is probably best if we just meet up tomorrow. K?
If you are looking for something to read, the next installment of The House Hunter was posted today. The link is to the right.
The kids are cowering somewhere else. Marty Sunshine is staying far away and pops his head into the office every so often to say things like, "would you like some chocolate?"
I am cursing Diamond Jim's name. He hasn't written me back with the answer to "can I write off my purchases to Goodwill Industrustries?" Speaking of writing back, Bliz has about 27 e-mails sitting in her in box from me with expenses I found that need to be accounted for.
Well now... Seeing as this is a family blog, it is probably best if we just meet up tomorrow. K?
If you are looking for something to read, the next installment of The House Hunter was posted today. The link is to the right.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Random Bama--The Communication Edition
Ms. Angie's frantic call last Wednesday was to tell me that she walked in and could smell the waft of an electrical smell flooding through the home and the heat was out again.
And what should she do?
"Call 911" I said with as much patience as I could muster under the given circumstances.
"You know what?" she drawled. "Let me call my next door neighbor and ring you back." And with that she hung up to talk to her next door neighbor the (I hope) fire fighter.
Because I was at the end of my rope, Marty Sunshine immediately called her back to find out that it wasn't an ozone smell, but a natural gas smell. The neighbor figured it was the pilot light of her brand-new furnace went out.
I sure hope that was the case. But, I haven't called her yet to find out.
________________________________________________
Ms. Shirley came through.
I got a brisk and to the point e-mail last week. "Mrs. Landlord, I deposited my rent in your bank account. Sincerely, Ms. Shirley"
Now, Ms. Shirley, wasn't that simple? Imagine how much nicer life could have been for you if you had just done this on time for the past several months.
________________________________________________
I spoke with Haroldine on Thursday. About half way through our conversation she said to me with an exasperated tone: "I really can't understand you with your thick accent."
Funny, I was thinking the exact same thing.
Haroldine and I finally got our conversation out of the way, via text.
And what should she do?
"Call 911" I said with as much patience as I could muster under the given circumstances.
"You know what?" she drawled. "Let me call my next door neighbor and ring you back." And with that she hung up to talk to her next door neighbor the (I hope) fire fighter.
Because I was at the end of my rope, Marty Sunshine immediately called her back to find out that it wasn't an ozone smell, but a natural gas smell. The neighbor figured it was the pilot light of her brand-new furnace went out.
I sure hope that was the case. But, I haven't called her yet to find out.
________________________________________________
Ms. Shirley came through.
I got a brisk and to the point e-mail last week. "Mrs. Landlord, I deposited my rent in your bank account. Sincerely, Ms. Shirley"
Now, Ms. Shirley, wasn't that simple? Imagine how much nicer life could have been for you if you had just done this on time for the past several months.
________________________________________________
I spoke with Haroldine on Thursday. About half way through our conversation she said to me with an exasperated tone: "I really can't understand you with your thick accent."
Funny, I was thinking the exact same thing.
Haroldine and I finally got our conversation out of the way, via text.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Fire Sale
Bear with me please. I have been in a royal funk of late.
I could write about Ms. Angie's latest firedrill (sigh) or how I barked at some poor girl at the check cashing place in Bessimer (that is a suburb of Birmingham) who had gotten on my last nerve, but not today.
But I will tell you, as of this writing, Ms. Angie's home has thankfully not burned down. But then again, maybe the phone melted in the inferno. I haven't bothered to check. More when I am not feeling burned out (that pun's for you Alec).
So, today's listing is this dandy is a three bedroom, one bathroom located in the quiet suburb of Irondale for only $89,000. As you can see, the agent wanted to guarantee it really has a bathroom. And, by the way, these are the only three pictures for this home in the MLS.
I could write about Ms. Angie's latest fire
But I will tell you, as of this writing, Ms. Angie's home has thankfully not burned down. But then again, maybe the phone melted in the inferno. I haven't bothered to check. More when I am not feeling burned out (that pun's for you Alec).
So, today's listing is this dandy is a three bedroom, one bathroom located in the quiet suburb of Irondale for only $89,000. As you can see, the agent wanted to guarantee it really has a bathroom. And, by the way, these are the only three pictures for this home in the MLS.
 |
| Note the car off to the right. I hope it belongs to whomever took the picture. This house is vacant. |
 |
| Yep, it has a bathroom. |
 |
| I think this is the kitchen. I think. |
Thursday, January 20, 2011
We Interrupt This Regularly Scheduled Blog
Busy Mommy is in her early 30s and has three little ones ranging from ages 9 to 1. In early December, she went in for a biopsy to confirm what she suspected.
She is one of my two dear friends who were diagnosed with breast cancer--two weeks apart.
Fast forwarding a few weeks, Busy, is going in for a double mastectomy today and is asking for all the prayers, love and happy thoughts you can muster.
God speed my friend.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Late In Leeds
I hate writing about yucky stuff. First, it makes me look like a clown. Which never really helps my mood. Second, it is yucky... who wants to read that?
Remember the grandma who called me in a panic the week before Christmas wanting to rent my Leeds home? The one who had just gotten emergency custody of her five grandchildren? The one I was iffy about? The one who managed to win me over by thanking me for taking a chance? Ok, it wasn't like there was a line standing outside the Leeds home last December with potential tenants lined up, so "winning me over" is a bit subjective here.
Well, it turns out Grandma hasn't figured out how to pay January's rent. She apparently told Kirby she is aware this "looks bad." And Kirby responded along the lines of I wouldn't be happy. Which was precisely what I told him when I found out. So, not only is Kirby a property manager, but he is a darn good mind reader too.
Though it wasn't necessary, Kirby did suggest we "do something" about her by the end of the week if rent hasn't shown up. That "something" in question is in the form of someone telling her she is moving out.
I was completely ok with that. In fact, I was also happy to tell her that Child Services won't be happy to see an eviction out there on children in foster care, so maybe she should just move before an anonymous call is made. Because an eviction was the "something" Kirby and I had in mind.
Or pay.
Yea, paying would be better. But, I am guessing that isn't happening.
Remember the grandma who called me in a panic the week before Christmas wanting to rent my Leeds home? The one who had just gotten emergency custody of her five grandchildren? The one I was iffy about? The one who managed to win me over by thanking me for taking a chance? Ok, it wasn't like there was a line standing outside the Leeds home last December with potential tenants lined up, so "winning me over" is a bit subjective here.
Well, it turns out Grandma hasn't figured out how to pay January's rent. She apparently told Kirby she is aware this "looks bad." And Kirby responded along the lines of I wouldn't be happy. Which was precisely what I told him when I found out. So, not only is Kirby a property manager, but he is a darn good mind reader too.
Though it wasn't necessary, Kirby did suggest we "do something" about her by the end of the week if rent hasn't shown up. That "something" in question is in the form of someone telling her she is moving out.
I was completely ok with that. In fact, I was also happy to tell her that Child Services won't be happy to see an eviction out there on children in foster care, so maybe she should just move before an anonymous call is made. Because an eviction was the "something" Kirby and I had in mind.
Or pay.
Yea, paying would be better. But, I am guessing that isn't happening.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Calling It In
I got nothing...
But, here's a pretty house for sale in the ultra-swank Mountain Brook, AL. This one is a foreclosure at $199,000. Truly a steal at this price. The annual property taxes are $3,100.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Curb Appeal
Jack sends me listings of homes for sale in the greater Birmingham area. Most of the time I instantly fall in love with the antebellum brick homes and salivate at the tree-lined streets, wishing I was in a position to buy six more. (It's ok Bliz--I'm not).
And sometimes Jack sends me homes from the MLS like this three bedroom beauty. Listed at $25,000. A steal in any metro area.
And sometimes Jack sends me homes from the MLS like this three bedroom beauty. Listed at $25,000. A steal in any metro area.
By the way, the next chapter of The House Hunter is out. The link is to the right.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Life Loosly Imitating Life
This past week, I was dealing with my HVAC Dude. You see, I sent him a check last week for Ms. Angie's shiny new furnace, but he didn't receive it.
My first reaction was to completely freak out. That's a lot of money floating around to be "lost." I also spent a great deal of time talking to the bank about the missing check.
And, I might have been a tad snarky too. By the time I was transferred to the fourth person at the bank, and she dully asked, "Do you know who the check was made out to?" My answer was, "Yes. I wrote the check. Of course I do!" In my defense, I had been trying to resolve this for more than two hours and her question wasn't, "Who was the check made out to?", which is really what she wanted to know.
All the while, I was also texting HVAC Dude keeping him apprised of what happened to the missing money. And, I sent him the Fed Ex air bill number so he could track the delivery progress of his payment.
This is why I never believe tenants who don't act the least bit astonished when their rent check doesn't arrive. In my world, this is what people do when money is missing. They look for it.
My first reaction was to completely freak out. That's a lot of money floating around to be "lost." I also spent a great deal of time talking to the bank about the missing check.
And, I might have been a tad snarky too. By the time I was transferred to the fourth person at the bank, and she dully asked, "Do you know who the check was made out to?" My answer was, "Yes. I wrote the check. Of course I do!" In my defense, I had been trying to resolve this for more than two hours and her question wasn't, "Who was the check made out to?", which is really what she wanted to know.
All the while, I was also texting HVAC Dude keeping him apprised of what happened to the missing money. And, I sent him the Fed Ex air bill number so he could track the delivery progress of his payment.
This is why I never believe tenants who don't act the least bit astonished when their rent check doesn't arrive. In my world, this is what people do when money is missing. They look for it.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
The Repo Man Cometh
I would like to on record here: I don't believe Ms. Shirley ever mailed the rent. Generally, tenants who really have missing rent checks are a lot more freaked out about lost money. Ms. Shirley never broke a sweat. Just in case you thought for a moment I believed her. Nope. I think when push came to shove, she decided it was too cold to live in a carboard box under the Interstate.
But, if we could fast-forward to Wednesday... I finally agreed to let Ms. Shirley put December's rent in my bank account. I did it for two reasons. First, it appeared she already had my bank account number (apparently given to her by me in a happier time).
Second, Ms. Shirley was refusing to mail me a check. According to her, the post office failed her. I did (hopefully) politely explain that of all my rentals, it seems only her post office was having delivery issues, and perhaps she could try a different post office. Ms. Shirley completely bypassed the obvious, wanting to save face, and just stood her ground. She wasn't mailing.
The only other area that I was pretty sure she and I had made some clarity with Ms. Shirley was about future rent payments. To Ms. Shirley's credit, she offered to pay on time from this point forward. At least for January. And, I was willing to believe her until Wednesday night.
Please excuse me while I take a quick moment to face Alabama and send out warm wishes to my dear neighbor, handyman and general overall great guy, Mr. 114.
I must tell you, having Mr. 114 as a next door neighbor to this home has been one of the best assets money hasn't bought. You see, along with being all of the above, Mr. 114 is also quite happy to pass along bits and pieces of relevant neighborhood information. Some might consider it gossip. I think of it of protecting my investment.
Without Mr. 114, I would never have found out that Ms. Shirley has a live-in boyfriend (which I have known for more than a year). The boyfriend was in a car wreck last year and hasn't been working since--which is about when her money trouble started. I also wouldn't know that there has been a repo man hanging outside of Mr. 114's house for the past three days, waiting for Ms. Shirley to drive off in her pretty red car so he can follow in hot pursuit.
This last piece of information has led me to believe that 1) Ms. Shirley will soon not have to worry about her car payment or 2) Ms. Shirley will move out in the middle of the night because she wants to keep her car. Mr. 114 and I pondered this Wednesday night. My money is on moving out in the middle of the night. Mr. 114 was non-committal, uttered something along the lines of, "bless her heart" and offered to keep me posted.
At any rate, sadly, I am guessing I probably didn't put the fear of eviction in Ms. Shirley. And, she and I will be playing the "were the heck is the rent game" again in a few weeks.
But, if we could fast-forward to Wednesday... I finally agreed to let Ms. Shirley put December's rent in my bank account. I did it for two reasons. First, it appeared she already had my bank account number (apparently given to her by me in a happier time).
Second, Ms. Shirley was refusing to mail me a check. According to her, the post office failed her. I did (hopefully) politely explain that of all my rentals, it seems only her post office was having delivery issues, and perhaps she could try a different post office. Ms. Shirley completely bypassed the obvious, wanting to save face, and just stood her ground. She wasn't mailing.
The only other area that I was pretty sure she and I had made some clarity with Ms. Shirley was about future rent payments. To Ms. Shirley's credit, she offered to pay on time from this point forward. At least for January. And, I was willing to believe her until Wednesday night.
Please excuse me while I take a quick moment to face Alabama and send out warm wishes to my dear neighbor, handyman and general overall great guy, Mr. 114.
I must tell you, having Mr. 114 as a next door neighbor to this home has been one of the best assets money hasn't bought. You see, along with being all of the above, Mr. 114 is also quite happy to pass along bits and pieces of relevant neighborhood information. Some might consider it gossip. I think of it of protecting my investment.
Without Mr. 114, I would never have found out that Ms. Shirley has a live-in boyfriend (which I have known for more than a year). The boyfriend was in a car wreck last year and hasn't been working since--which is about when her money trouble started. I also wouldn't know that there has been a repo man hanging outside of Mr. 114's house for the past three days, waiting for Ms. Shirley to drive off in her pretty red car so he can follow in hot pursuit.
This last piece of information has led me to believe that 1) Ms. Shirley will soon not have to worry about her car payment or 2) Ms. Shirley will move out in the middle of the night because she wants to keep her car. Mr. 114 and I pondered this Wednesday night. My money is on moving out in the middle of the night. Mr. 114 was non-committal, uttered something along the lines of, "bless her heart" and offered to keep me posted.
At any rate, sadly, I am guessing I probably didn't put the fear of eviction in Ms. Shirley. And, she and I will be playing the "were the heck is the rent game" again in a few weeks.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
All Quacked Up
It turns out that asking Jack to clarify my loyalties for the Oregon-Auburn BCS Bowl game came in handy.
On Tuesday, Attorney Jon called me about some painfully long, complicated boring legal matter that will either cost me a bit of time and money if all goes well. If not, it will make for a painfully long, complicated (and I promise to find some way to make it sound amusing) blog. But for now, nope, not so much.
Before we even got to the purpose of his call (as you might remember, he left me a voice mail last Friday saying, "we have a problem."), our first ten minutes of chit-chat were about the game, with me starting out by saying, "So sorry to hear about the Ducks." Of course, I didn't watch the game, but I did take a quick peek at the score early Tuesday--just in case.
And by the way, it was very painful to wait those ten minutes talking about some college football game when I really wanted to know why Attorney Jon left a cryptic message for me in the first place. But of course, in the South, all scary legal problems are on hold until one has rehashed the horror (or victory) of a college football game.
When I started this accidental business, I never dreamed how important it was to be able to speak the language. It isn't just the Southern colloquialisms. It is knowing what to talk about and when. I would like to think there is hope. Perhaps I am getting the hang of this culture.
On Tuesday, Attorney Jon called me about some painfully long, complicated boring legal matter that will either cost me a bit of time and money if all goes well. If not, it will make for a painfully long, complicated (and I promise to find some way to make it sound amusing) blog. But for now, nope, not so much.
Before we even got to the purpose of his call (as you might remember, he left me a voice mail last Friday saying, "we have a problem."), our first ten minutes of chit-chat were about the game, with me starting out by saying, "So sorry to hear about the Ducks." Of course, I didn't watch the game, but I did take a quick peek at the score early Tuesday--just in case.
And by the way, it was very painful to wait those ten minutes talking about some college football game when I really wanted to know why Attorney Jon left a cryptic message for me in the first place. But of course, in the South, all scary legal problems are on hold until one has rehashed the horror (or victory) of a college football game.
When I started this accidental business, I never dreamed how important it was to be able to speak the language. It isn't just the Southern colloquialisms. It is knowing what to talk about and when. I would like to think there is hope. Perhaps I am getting the hang of this culture.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Still Not Convinced
It has occurred to me, that Ms. Shirley probably felt my Lease Termination Letter came out of left field. And, she is probably right. Yes, I understand we have a contract. Yes, I understand that the consequences to not honoring that contract can result in a Lease Termination Letter.
But, you see, Ms. Shirley and I had a pretty amiable relationship up until last Thursday. Though she may not realize how saying to me that I don't know what it is like to be poor might have rubbed me the wrong way, that really isn't the reason she got the termination letter. Or, at least I would like to think so when I am on my high and mighty landlord horse.
The truth be told, I really felt Ms. Shirley had been pushing the limits of my patience for months. I was utterly put off by the roof leaking annoyance of last year. Though I would like to take this moment to thank the Almighty for miraculously fixing her roof leak. Because, I sure didn't.
I was also annoyed with her missing rent check drama of last summer--which I later found out included some extra cash in her pocket to pay for dental work, her daughter's wedding and a myriad of other items. All of which I am not suggesting she isn't entitled to--but my rent money comes first. I have a contract stating as much.
Ms. Shirley's antics were old as we trodded on into November, with the apex being the serious tongue lashing I gave her last December. The result was a friendly e-mail on Christmas Eve from Ms. Shirley telling me December's rent would be showing up some time in January.
Which, as of this writing hasn't happened.
Since Thursday, Ms. Shirley however has sent me a variety of e-mails, ranging from "Oh my goodness!" to "What the *^ #$%$ do you mean I owe you money?" And even took the time to fax me a copy of the cashier's check she allegedly sent out. I must say, if it were me, and that much money of mine was missing, and the missing money might be all that is between me and living in a carboard box under the Interstate underpass, I might try a teensy bit harder to figure out what happened to the missing check. I'm just saying...
On Monday, Ms. Shirley was a bit more conciliatory and actually offered to "replace" the cashier's check she owes me with another cashier's check she still owes me. She even offered to make sure the one she got could find its way to my mailbox (actually she offered to put it directly in my bank account. Tenants who are on my last nerve don't get access to my bank account).
I agreed to her solution, with a quick suggestion that I don't care to explain to Mr. Partner once more how Ms. Shirley can't seem to get her act together. So, it darn well better show up before her ten day warning was over.
Ms. Shirley did explain the weather was cold in Birmingham on Monday, in January, so hauling herself to the bank can't happen until today. Apparently cold weather stops commerce from taking place in the South. Who knew!?
Feeling a bit charitable on Monday, during the course of our e-mail visit, I did ask Ms. Shirley when I can expect January's rent. Personally, I am not holding my breath we are getting much past December's situation. But, as Ms. Shirley seems to think a new cashier's check will fix all past sins, I thought I would throw out the idea.
Ms. Shirley immediately wrote me back. January's Rent would be coming on time. Not a problem. And, in exchange would I please stop eviction.
Yea, I think I could manage that--that is, if December's rent actually shows up.
But, you see, Ms. Shirley and I had a pretty amiable relationship up until last Thursday. Though she may not realize how saying to me that I don't know what it is like to be poor might have rubbed me the wrong way, that really isn't the reason she got the termination letter. Or, at least I would like to think so when I am on my high and mighty landlord horse.
The truth be told, I really felt Ms. Shirley had been pushing the limits of my patience for months. I was utterly put off by the roof leaking annoyance of last year. Though I would like to take this moment to thank the Almighty for miraculously fixing her roof leak. Because, I sure didn't.
I was also annoyed with her missing rent check drama of last summer--which I later found out included some extra cash in her pocket to pay for dental work, her daughter's wedding and a myriad of other items. All of which I am not suggesting she isn't entitled to--but my rent money comes first. I have a contract stating as much.
Ms. Shirley's antics were old as we trodded on into November, with the apex being the serious tongue lashing I gave her last December. The result was a friendly e-mail on Christmas Eve from Ms. Shirley telling me December's rent would be showing up some time in January.
Which, as of this writing hasn't happened.
Since Thursday, Ms. Shirley however has sent me a variety of e-mails, ranging from "Oh my goodness!" to "What the *^ #$%$ do you mean I owe you money?" And even took the time to fax me a copy of the cashier's check she allegedly sent out. I must say, if it were me, and that much money of mine was missing, and the missing money might be all that is between me and living in a carboard box under the Interstate underpass, I might try a teensy bit harder to figure out what happened to the missing check. I'm just saying...
On Monday, Ms. Shirley was a bit more conciliatory and actually offered to "replace" the cashier's check she owes me with another cashier's check she still owes me. She even offered to make sure the one she got could find its way to my mailbox (actually she offered to put it directly in my bank account. Tenants who are on my last nerve don't get access to my bank account).
I agreed to her solution, with a quick suggestion that I don't care to explain to Mr. Partner once more how Ms. Shirley can't seem to get her act together. So, it darn well better show up before her ten day warning was over.
Ms. Shirley did explain the weather was cold in Birmingham on Monday, in January, so hauling herself to the bank can't happen until today. Apparently cold weather stops commerce from taking place in the South. Who knew!?
Feeling a bit charitable on Monday, during the course of our e-mail visit, I did ask Ms. Shirley when I can expect January's rent. Personally, I am not holding my breath we are getting much past December's situation. But, as Ms. Shirley seems to think a new cashier's check will fix all past sins, I thought I would throw out the idea.
Ms. Shirley immediately wrote me back. January's Rent would be coming on time. Not a problem. And, in exchange would I please stop eviction.
Yea, I think I could manage that--that is, if December's rent actually shows up.
Monday, January 10, 2011
In Perspective
I had this moment of clarity on Saturday when I realized my biggest annoyance right now--other than tripping over the piles of papers to be processed during tax season--is a tenant or two paying late.
There was a time when I didn't even concern myself with such frivolities because I was too busy hoping the tenant I was most concerned about didn't have a meth lab, pyromaniac tendencies or was once again target shooting from the second floor balcony.
Now, I have Ms. Shirley and Haroldine. And they are really much more benign in comparison.
There was a time when I didn't even concern myself with such frivolities because I was too busy hoping the tenant I was most concerned about didn't have a meth lab, pyromaniac tendencies or was once again target shooting from the second floor balcony.
Now, I have Ms. Shirley and Haroldine. And they are really much more benign in comparison.
Saturday, January 08, 2011
Random Bama--The Weekend Edition
Attorney Jon--whom I talk with twice a year (and totally adore)--called me on Friday morning.
He said, "Mrs. Landlord, we have a problem. Please call me." I am really hoping he has me mixed up with some other Mrs. Landlord.
I am sure I will know what is wrong by Monday, as he is pretty prompt on calling me back when I am on the brink of hysterics.
_____________________________________________________________________
I would like to point out that Ms. Kathy did not pay late. She paid on time. Without prompting, bribing or cajoling.
Please take a moment to send Ms. Kathy some positive atta-girl vibes. She is in the last month of a two year lease and she finally got it right!
_____________________________________________________________________
Ms. Shirley faxed me (apparently she has my fax number too?!) a copy of the check she supposedly sent me. Too bad I can't cash that. I e-mailed her and I told her as much. I didn't hear back.
My guess? She sent out the check the day she was served.
_____________________________________________________________________
According to Google Analytics, that super-accurate blog tracking site (which still doesn't show the Happy Camper when she logs on here), The House Hunter has had 22 hits since Sunday. That is more than this blog!
By the way, Chapter 3 was released today. If you are so inclined, the link is over to the right.
He said, "Mrs. Landlord, we have a problem. Please call me." I am really hoping he has me mixed up with some other Mrs. Landlord.
I am sure I will know what is wrong by Monday, as he is pretty prompt on calling me back when I am on the brink of hysterics.
_____________________________________________________________________
I would like to point out that Ms. Kathy did not pay late. She paid on time. Without prompting, bribing or cajoling.
Please take a moment to send Ms. Kathy some positive atta-girl vibes. She is in the last month of a two year lease and she finally got it right!
_____________________________________________________________________
Ms. Shirley faxed me (apparently she has my fax number too?!) a copy of the check she supposedly sent me. Too bad I can't cash that. I e-mailed her and I told her as much. I didn't hear back.
My guess? She sent out the check the day she was served.
_____________________________________________________________________
According to Google Analytics, that super-accurate blog tracking site (which still doesn't show the Happy Camper when she logs on here), The House Hunter has had 22 hits since Sunday. That is more than this blog!
By the way, Chapter 3 was released today. If you are so inclined, the link is over to the right.
Friday, January 07, 2011
Ms. Shirley
Ms. Shirley was none-too-happy on Thursday. I know this because she called--and I am not making this up--nine times between 3:17 and 4:22 p.m., leaving one voice mail on my Alabama phone and one on my Arizona cell. She also sent an e-mail.
When Marty Sunshine came home from work, I warned him not to answer any phone calls from the 205 area code for the remainder of the evening. Apparently she also managed to find my home number as well.
By 4:47, I was toying with responding to her just so Mr. 114, her next door neighbor and my handyman, didn't call or shoot me an e-mail passing along the earful I am sure he has already gotten from Ms. Shirley. Loosing him is much more detrimental to my life than loosing Ms. Shirley.
I haven't listened to the voice mails just yet. But I am guessing she was pretty upset. Her e-mail was half-written, with her using my last name and feigning confusion. She forgot to sign her name and the other Southern niceties were missing too. The gist of the e-mail consisted of her telling me she sent the rent last week. And, did I receive it? If it wasn't the first time she and I went through this particular ditty, I would be more sympathetic.
Eventually I will need to respond to her (and Marty Sunshine thinks it might be wise to do it sooner than later to get our phone to stop ringing). Right now I am still bandying around words like "thief" and "liar." And that doesn't make for anything remotely win-win.
It isn't that I want Ms. Shirley to move. That is, unless the rent check really doesn't come in. I just want her to understand I am not playing the "let's tax the landlord's good nature," game anymore. Heck! Even Ms. Kathy seems to have finally figured that one out!
But, if Ms. Shirley does end up moving, so be it. At least I can get someone else in there who will pay.
When Marty Sunshine came home from work, I warned him not to answer any phone calls from the 205 area code for the remainder of the evening. Apparently she also managed to find my home number as well.
By 4:47, I was toying with responding to her just so Mr. 114, her next door neighbor and my handyman, didn't call or shoot me an e-mail passing along the earful I am sure he has already gotten from Ms. Shirley. Loosing him is much more detrimental to my life than loosing Ms. Shirley.
I haven't listened to the voice mails just yet. But I am guessing she was pretty upset. Her e-mail was half-written, with her using my last name and feigning confusion. She forgot to sign her name and the other Southern niceties were missing too. The gist of the e-mail consisted of her telling me she sent the rent last week. And, did I receive it? If it wasn't the first time she and I went through this particular ditty, I would be more sympathetic.
Eventually I will need to respond to her (and Marty Sunshine thinks it might be wise to do it sooner than later to get our phone to stop ringing). Right now I am still bandying around words like "thief" and "liar." And that doesn't make for anything remotely win-win.
It isn't that I want Ms. Shirley to move. That is, unless the rent check really doesn't come in. I just want her to understand I am not playing the "let's tax the landlord's good nature," game anymore. Heck! Even Ms. Kathy seems to have finally figured that one out!
But, if Ms. Shirley does end up moving, so be it. At least I can get someone else in there who will pay.
Thursday, January 06, 2011
Quick! Someone Hand me a Glass of Whine
"Is it 5:00?" I asked Legal Eagle at 9:27 a.m. Wednesday.
She replied with "Somewhere." And I hope to heavens I didn't pay $265 an hour for that pearl.
I can't really tell you about my Wednesday. Maybe I can next week. But it involves legal things that I can't write about. Yet.
I also had lunch with my buddy Jason yesterday. We hadn't caught up in a long while. His first question as we bit into our tacos was, "How many foreclosures do you now have on your credit?" He wasn't being rude. He was just curious--assuming we contributed our fair share to the housing crisis in the past two years.
On a completely unrelated note: Ms. Shirley got served today. I hope. Maybe. Come on Red... don't let me down.
She replied with "Somewhere." And I hope to heavens I didn't pay $265 an hour for that pearl.
I can't really tell you about my Wednesday. Maybe I can next week. But it involves legal things that I can't write about. Yet.
I also had lunch with my buddy Jason yesterday. We hadn't caught up in a long while. His first question as we bit into our tacos was, "How many foreclosures do you now have on your credit?" He wasn't being rude. He was just curious--assuming we contributed our fair share to the housing crisis in the past two years.
On a completely unrelated note: Ms. Shirley got served today. I hope. Maybe. Come on Red... don't let me down.
Tuesday, January 04, 2011
Just When I Thought I Would Have Nothing To Write About
Well now! A quick congratulations to Ms. Shirley, who has now surpassed Ms. Kathy in outrageous passive agressive behavior.
As usual, Ms. Shirley's rent is late. But, she managed to find a convenient computer to tell me so on Christmas Eve. Her rent payment darn well better be in my PO Box today, or all bets are off.
But, Ms. Shirley's antics have now transgressed beyond a suspect leaky roof and willy-nilly rent due dates. Sentimental fool that I am, I have already begun to miss those shenanigans.
It appears Ms. Shirley's fence fell over. Though this isn't a big deal or a difficult fix. However, Ms. Shirley decided not to let me know and just to take matters into her own hands. She went next door to Mr. 114 and asked him to fix this. What I was told she conveyed to Mr. 114 was to just go ahead and fix it and bill me. I won't mind.
Mr. 114 was as floored at the adacity of this as I. So, he e-mailed me and asked what I wanted to do. I told him to fix it. And, to please find out if there are any other minor fixes necessary around the house. If there are, please let me know and I will decide what I want to do. And, if Ms. Shirley asks him why he is looking, please tell her it is for the next tenant's comfort.
As usual, Ms. Shirley's rent is late. But, she managed to find a convenient computer to tell me so on Christmas Eve. Her rent payment darn well better be in my PO Box today, or all bets are off.
But, Ms. Shirley's antics have now transgressed beyond a suspect leaky roof and willy-nilly rent due dates. Sentimental fool that I am, I have already begun to miss those shenanigans.
It appears Ms. Shirley's fence fell over. Though this isn't a big deal or a difficult fix. However, Ms. Shirley decided not to let me know and just to take matters into her own hands. She went next door to Mr. 114 and asked him to fix this. What I was told she conveyed to Mr. 114 was to just go ahead and fix it and bill me. I won't mind.
Mr. 114 was as floored at the adacity of this as I. So, he e-mailed me and asked what I wanted to do. I told him to fix it. And, to please find out if there are any other minor fixes necessary around the house. If there are, please let me know and I will decide what I want to do. And, if Ms. Shirley asks him why he is looking, please tell her it is for the next tenant's comfort.
Monday, January 03, 2011
Random Bama
The filing is done. So far. I haven't filed the tons of papers Bliz is promising to send my way.
Now on to my least-favorite activity: getting ready for taxes.
______________________________________________________________
Marty and I own a corporation. We are required to have an annual meeting. We usually do this in December when he is off of work. I asked him the other day what he wanted to do for our annual meeting. He replied, "Wasn't filing enough?"
We settled for hanging out a Starbucks and rehashing everything we had already discussed throughout the year.
______________________________________________________________
One of the tenants Kirby manages was in a debilitating car accident. So, December's rent didn't come in on time. I am told rent is on its way--but I haven't seen it yet.
There is a fine line between feeling bad for someone's situation and making sure my situation doesn't take a turn for the worse because of their misfortune. If I have to kick them out I will. But, I will feel like a jerk doing it.
Now on to my least-favorite activity: getting ready for taxes.
______________________________________________________________
Marty and I own a corporation. We are required to have an annual meeting. We usually do this in December when he is off of work. I asked him the other day what he wanted to do for our annual meeting. He replied, "Wasn't filing enough?"
We settled for hanging out a Starbucks and rehashing everything we had already discussed throughout the year.
______________________________________________________________
One of the tenants Kirby manages was in a debilitating car accident. So, December's rent didn't come in on time. I am told rent is on its way--but I haven't seen it yet.
There is a fine line between feeling bad for someone's situation and making sure my situation doesn't take a turn for the worse because of their misfortune. If I have to kick them out I will. But, I will feel like a jerk doing it.
Sunday, January 02, 2011
The House Hunter
Once upon a time, The House Hunter was written. Dutifully, the author sent out query letter after query letter and got responses ranging from: "unimaginative half-rate hack" to "I am unclear as to why you could possibly think you have any writing talent whatsoever."
And, those were the nicer comments.
After a year of serious ego bashing, the writer got busy with other writing projects. But, The House Hunter still loomed. I am told it is a decently entertaining story by others who aren't professional literary agents.
It is about a young woman, struggling to find independence and come to grips with a past she left behind. All the while she is trying to figure the "magic" necessary to be a successful real estate agent. The inconveniences of paying a loan shark, the demise of her friend and a dead body seem to be blocking her way. It is written to be an easy entertaining read.
And it needs an audience, so it is being released chapter by chapter over the several few weeks. Think of it as a serial blog.
If you are so inclined, here is the link. If you like, please feel free to share with others. If not, that is ok too.
And, those were the nicer comments.
After a year of serious ego bashing, the writer got busy with other writing projects. But, The House Hunter still loomed. I am told it is a decently entertaining story by others who aren't professional literary agents.
It is about a young woman, struggling to find independence and come to grips with a past she left behind. All the while she is trying to figure the "magic" necessary to be a successful real estate agent. The inconveniences of paying a loan shark, the demise of her friend and a dead body seem to be blocking her way. It is written to be an easy entertaining read.
And it needs an audience, so it is being released chapter by chapter over the several few weeks. Think of it as a serial blog.
If you are so inclined, here is the link. If you like, please feel free to share with others. If not, that is ok too.
Saturday, January 01, 2011
The First Blog of the Year
Just wanted to wish all'y'all a happy and prosperous New Year.
Here's to a great 2011!
Here's to a great 2011!
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