Its All A Matter Of Timing

Harold and Haroldine moved out last week. I really liked Haroldine. Harold, not so much.

Harold has since then called me, looking for handyman work--after all, aren't I a rich landlord who has a gazillion homes. Certainly one or 12 must have been affected by last week's tornadoes? Too bad he wasn't this attentive while he was living in my home (or while Haroldine was living in my home, struggling to make the rent every month, crying to me on the phone about how she was getting loans from family and friends to cover rent).

The newest tenant for Jack and I is Mr. and Mrs. Little. Here's what I have to say about them: gainfully employed, decent credit score and articlate. Articulate carries a lot of weight with me. Mr. Little would like keys as soon as possible so he can get into the home, clean and "fix anything that needs to be fixed." Of course the house is clean and fixed up, so this was news to me. But, whatever. I really don't want the house vacant.

And though his lease starts next week, we are sorta accomodating Mr. Little's request. But first Jack is letting Keith the Snake Snatcher over this week to (hopefully) finish his task. With any luck, Haroldine left her hoe behind and Keith won't have too much trouble. Once Keith is done, Mr. Little can have keys.