Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Random Bama

It turns out the deadbeats in my Pinson have officially been evicted. However, they aren't out last I heard. Apparently I need to fork out more money to pay the local sheriff to kick them out to the curb. That's tomorrow's task.
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I am overwhelmed at the kindness from those of you who have reached out to me to see if I was ok about what is going on in our accidental business. I am at peace with everything going on. At least right now.

And thank you for asking. Today I am fine. I am aware it will probably get worse before it gets better.
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I had lunch with Mr. Partner yesterday. Though he is intimately aware of our situation, he seems to be of the opinion we can salvage the home in Pinson. "File and insurance claim!" was his mantra.  I think (and I didn't want to burst Mr. Partner's optimistic outlook) we can file a claim, make some of the repairs and still loose this house. Time will tell. First the idiots need to leave.
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I spent part of my day with Diamond Jim working on tax issues today. Our taxes are complicated. I am a reasonable record keeper, but more with an artistic flair. Nor do I care if this or that is missing--which apparently can be a big issue. This does not work well for Diamond Jim, who told me I was driving him bonkers. He certainly wasn't winning any Mr. Congeniality awards either today, but I give him leeway: he is over 70, working 13 hours a day and he lost his wife less than three months ago.
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The Arizona Diamondbacks look to be pretty crummy this year. I am hoping, though my expectations are low, they figure out how to pleasantly surprise me.

Sunday, March 22, 2015

Preparing for the Worst

There is an odd mindset when one surrenders to financial ruin. When the realization came about months ago, Marty Sunshine and I sat down and said to each other, "what do we want to do?" And oddly, the first priority was taking what might be our last vacation for a while. We wanted the kids to have a good memory.

Yes, I know "financial ruin" is temporary. Marty has a job. I have a real estate business. We will survive. We will bounce back. But there will be lawyers involved (there already are). There will be--and this daunts me the most for some reason--creditors calling, asking why the hell we went from 800 FICOs to not paying our bills. And for no earthly reason they can fathom.

We aren't "not paying our bills" exactly. We are choosing not to go into further debt to keep two homes which are in serious disarray from situations out of our control--either because the bank has chosen to give us hell for the past six months or because a tenant did the same. Either way, after a lot of evaluation, prayer and muttering to ourselves, this is the path we have taken.

I can promise you, this isn't a decision we took lightly. The emotional aspect of our choice has taken a toll too. I have went from looking myself in the mirror, knowing I was an upstanding citizen who did what was right and now I have the eerie feeling I can't shake that I am a mere deadbeat. A bum. And--this bothers me the most--someone who doesn't keep their word.
One of the questions LegalOwl (my new legal counsel at Attorney Flip's office) asked me is if Mr. Partner was on board with this. The exact answer is yes and no. His credit will not be harmed by our actions. He understands we are going to do this. And he also sees the reasons why. Essentially, if we wanted to fight for these homes, he would back us and help us hold lemonade stands and garage sales (which is what it would take to find the funds we needed to go forward). If we want to let them go, he will do that too. He is also tired and broke.

There is a saying in the South, "Things can only go up from here." I believe this is true. I don't know what "financial ruin" will look like in this accidental business. If we will keep all but two homes or if we will loose everything. But in the end, I believe letting these two homes go and the potential looming bankruptcy that will probably follow for us is going to be for the best.

Wednesday, March 18, 2015

Everything That Glitters...

Through the course of this accidental business, I had become fond of one specific home. In fact, I recently joked with Mr. Partner that I, being the youngest of us four partners, was going to out-live the rest of them, acquire the LLC by default and retire in this particular house.

The Pinson home is nestled in the mountains. The home has a fabulous front porch that spans the property's length. The home itself is rather cozy. It is a three bedroom, two bathroom of about 1,400 square feet with a two-car garage in the basement. I should mention the front of the home at the top of the hill, the garage and basement nestled into the hill with the back deck overlooking the two acres with the pond. All of this is exotic to me, a city-girl who has always wanted to live on a mountain in the woods with a view overlooking some water.

Last summer, a husband, wife and two itty-bitty toddlers  moved in. They had gone through the vetting process. In fact, the husband's credit score was in the mid-to-high 600s. They had the income to qualify and nothing suggested there would be a problem.

It is now March. And there is a problem. They never paid rent. And, the eviction process is still ongoing. It makes me ill to write this. Just ill. Apparently the husband is no longer employed and has "anger issues." He has beaten the hell out of his wife. In fact, I am told (by her) he has gone so far as to hide in the attic when the wife is gone, and when the she returns to what she thinks is a quiet home with her two children, he pops out of the attic only to break down my doors, smash my windows and do God knows what to those babies and their mama.

The house is in utter disarray. For one thing. The husband drove his truck through the garage door, so now the garage is boarded up. The electricity and water are off (though we found a generator hidden outside) and the electric box is hanging from a few wires to the wall. There are rotted food everywhere. In fact, the glass from one of the broken windows is still on the ground, right in reach of the toddlers. 

When we arrived last week to inspect, the wife let us in, gave us a song and dance about how she is moving out last week (of course she is!) and let us look around at the utter filth she is living in. Part of me--the part that wants to take those children home with me--felt for her. I listened to her story and believed her life is really the train wreck she made it out to be. That lasted about 15 seconds until sanity sunk in and became so angry I had to step outside before I lost it with her.

She and her idiot husband (wherever he might be--she says they are now estranged) have been stealing from me for months. They have trashed this home. Even when they move out, I will have lawyers to pay. Insurance may pay for a broken window and an electrical box, but insurance isn't going to give me enough to remove the rats that have made themselves at home in the basement from all the filth. Insurance won't give me enough to replace the flooring that is covered with moldy food, cigarette burns and whatever else disgusting things might be on there. Insurance isn't going to cover the corner of the basement I am presuming the woman is using for her personal toilet (we accidentally found that spot). And, insurance isn't going to reimburse me for my now-faded dream of retiring in this home.

In fact, this home is so bad, we probably won't recover from it. I had that inkling going over there (and hence, one of the main reasons for my trip). My worst fears were confirmed. The house will most likely be going back to the bank.

It is just a home. Our credit will bounce back eventually. We may invest again. Maybe. Maybe not.

Monday, March 09, 2015

Monday

If I write too much right now, it will just be a whiny blog about how tired and sick I am. I really am missing the moments of gratitude in this trip. And, I know it. But I don't feel gratitude. I feel tired. And sick.

And whiny.

I purposely don't allow myself to engage in pity-parties on a regular basis. But lately I have felt one brimming to the surface, like a boiling pot with a lid affixed tightly. Earlier today, when I was on an emotional low, I called Carolsue to cheer me up. Just being in the same town as her brings me comfort.

There. A gratitude.

Today was a mixed day. My homes in Shelby County were in great shape. I could not ask for better, stable tenants who are happy and love where they live. Luigi and Willy were friendly and gracious hosts. The afternoon's adventures were not as wonderful and overshadowed the whole day. For that matter, they have overshadowed the last two months. I will write more on that later.

Also, because I was the passenger and didn't have much of a choice, visited an attorney of Luigi's who was assisting him in some business. I zoned out in the office, thinking of days gone by and how Birmingham "used to be" for me. This particular attorney knew Late Attorney Jon. In the past, there had been a couple of times Late Attorney Jon suggested I call this guy when something was out of Jon's scope of reference. This attorney was also the closing attorney for one of my homes back in the day--though I don't know if he would remember me. Probably not. But he runs in the same circles as the folks I used to deal with.

Watching the lawyer today got me thinking. And made me a bit sad for Late Attorney Jon's family. I wasn't expecting that. I knew I would have to deal with this later this week (I am visiting Attorney Flip's office Wednesday), but this was a double blow to the sucker punch that was my afternoon.

Right now I am on my way to dinner. Then bed. Perhaps with some food in my system and an alka-seltzer or two, I might feel a bit more grateful.

Wait. It looks like I did write too much.


Sunday, March 08, 2015

I Only Came Up With Five Items On My List

I am sitting in my lonely hotel room in Birmingham. Today was a short day because Alabama is one of those states which celebrates Daylight Savings the first Sunday in March by lopping off an hour of their day. Thus all the clocks told me I woke up earlier than I really did. I am definitely drained.

And, if you must know, I seem to have a terrible ear infection and am vacillating between going to the urgent care to see if there is anything--anything--some medical professional can do so I don't have to fly back to Phoenix with an ear infection or ignoring it and hoping the flight back later this week isn't as bad as the flight out--which was a bitch. I don't recommend flying with an ear infection. Ever.

Today started with church and a drive through Homewood where I followed my GPS to find Luigi's office. I am pleased to see he isn't spending a lot of his owners' money on overhead. That really isn't sarcasm. I work in a small property management office of similar ilk. There really is no need for flashy digs. Tenants don't see where their rent check goes every month. I am sure there is a market for travertine floors and posh interiors located in high-end zip codes, but I am more practical. I like simple and the exterior of Luigi's office didn't disappoint.

After that I met Carolsue at her lovely home where she showed me some of the treasures she is finding from local estates. And from there, we swung by Baseball Guy's home and went on a road trip. I am pleased to see Ms. Angie is taking great care of her home. I am even more pleased to see she wasn't out in the front yard as I drove by. Though I like Ms. Angie, I didn't want to stop in for two hours and visit.

Our next stop was my vacant-home-in-North-Centerpoint-where-the-second-mortgage-has-been-called-due house. Flunky had been kind enough to give me the code to the vendor box (not that the back door wasn't unlocked by Baseball Guy two weeks ago and before that Kirby, both who have visited this home for me in the past month). The Section 8 tenant left the house a mess. Just an utter mess. I am not sure why Section 8 feels the tenant deserves her deposit back. I am dragging Luigi by there tomorrow. The house is in disrepair, but it appears to be cosmetic. It still doesn't change the fact: if the home is going back to the bank, I am not fixing anything. And, I can't rent the house until the home is fixed.

The next leg of our trip was up to Pinson, where I checked on my "I really am moving out and please call off the eviction" house. The tenant is still there. She also has bags, upon bags of trash all over the outside of the home. They moved in last summer and haven't paid a dime. They have also broken off the garage door and now it is plywooded over. The woman looked comfortable there. Too comfortable. The entire scenario makes me ill.

Our last spot on the tour was Mrs. Sherwood's home. Mr. Sherwood was outside and I opted not to slow down, as again I wasn't in the mood for a social call. But the house looks good. No complaints. Thus far.

Dinner tonight was with Kirby and Mrs. Kirby.

Last week Marty asked me to give my top 10 favorite things about Birmingham. Carolsue, Baseball Guy and Kirby were on the list. All were part of my day today. All make this trip much more bearable.

Wednesday, March 04, 2015

Random Bama

The representative for the second-mortgage-who-called-our-loan-due called today. He wanted to tell us they didn't need anything else from us at this time and our file is "under review." He would let us know if anything changed, so there was no reason to contact him.

Not that we had the representative's name or number before today.
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Luigi sent me an e-mail yesterday suggesting he would like to go with me to my homes when I inspect them during my upcoming Birmingham trip. Of course, it never occurred to me he wouldn't be coming with me. I have no desire to show up on any tenant's door, announce I am the owner and then have the tenant go off on every.little.thing they want, or feel they deserve. That's why I have Luigi in the first place. He gets to take the abuse with me.
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I have finally done something to prepare for my trip. I bought mascara and an umbrella. 

Tuesday, March 03, 2015

Disorganized

Typically when when one is planning on traveling, they actually do something constructive about it. You know, pack, verify flights/hotel/car. They may possibly check out reviews of restaurants, book a tour (or if traveling to parts seriously unknown, a tour guide) and ensure the accommodations they are expecting to get at their desired destination will indeed be there.

So far I have checked the weather, made the property management scramble and begged my broker to take the on-call phone away from me. Actually, I have done a bit more than that. I have also contacted two real estate agents to discuss ways to sell my Leeds home. I have e-mailed Carolsue to make sure I have some one to play with for (at least) one of my days there. And, I have scanned Yahoo Maps to see if there are any exits off of Highway 280 to the property management office.

I did put some thought into what kind of "Arizona" gift I could bring to those I am meeting. If it were closer to Holiday season, I might have considered an Arizona Highways calendar. At this moment, I am at a loss and decided to go empty-handed. I am sure I am breaching some sort of Southern protocol showing up empty-handed. It even feels awkward to show up without something. But unless I have divine inspiration, it just isn't happening.

Eventually I need to pack. Or do laundry so I can pack. And perhaps I should figure out when my flight is taking off.