Random Bama

The Y'all job is keeping me hopping. I enjoy having money coming in. I am not appreciating the lack of consistency in the hours. I was finally getting used to 6 *(@!*& a.m., when they changed the schedule and gave me afternoons. Except Friday and Saturday this week where I have both.

But, the afternoon schedule will hopefully give me some time to handle some of the real estate items I have on the front burner.

Just for the record, the best way to avoid this particular lifestyle is not to buy homes on credit.
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It appears Kirby is asking my tenant on Fultondale to leave. At least that was the game plan as of last week. I do recall a time when I was frustrated Kirby wouldn't contact me on a regular basis. Now he waits for me.

But, back to the tenant in Fultondale. Allegedly she paid May's rent. However, because she was peripherally affected by the devastating tornadoes in April, she asked us to hold May's rent (she couldn't get to her home for several days because of downed trees and power lines as well as debris peppering the main drag of Fultondale. She said she had to stay in a hotel).

June's rent hasn't materialized and for whatever reason Kirby doesn't think the May check is good. So, he is bribing asking her to leave. He is going to offer her $200 if she just goes and cleans up on her way out the door.

Hopefully this will be resolved soon.
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Mrs. Sherwood called me last week. Her dilemma? Mr. Sherwood got a good in Yuma, Arizona. Did I know anything about the place? Well, yes I do. But Yuma is affectionately referred to as an armpit--though I think that is probably an insult to armpits everywhere.

Mrs. Sherwood will not be joining Mr. Sherwood until she finishes three more semesters of nursing school. But she was curious about rents. Mr. Sherwood was told he could find a modest one bedroom apartment for the $1800 a month range. Did that sound reasonable?

As a matter of fact, it did not. I suspect she might be able to find a mansion in Yuma for less than that. I need her to be able to afford my rent along with the Yuma rent, so I offered to do some checking. I hate to loose Mrs. Sherwood.  Perhaps Yuma won't be real popular with Mr. Sherwood either.

The Main Thing

A long time ago when I worked for an itty-bitty pet food megastore chain (which has since become a gargantuan pet food megastore chain), one of the VPs had a sign up in his cubicle:

The Main Thing is to Keep the Main Thing the Main Thing

Now then, I'll be happy to wait right here while you process that. Take your time.

Ok now, this particular ditty applies to all walks of life. Including being a landlord. If I had to pick the main thing for being a landlord it would simply be: pick the right tenant.

I know, easier said than done. But I have to tell you from my own experiences, my life is infinitely easier when I have picked the right tenants.

And of course, sadly the converse is true too. Pick a crummy tenant; start blogging.

Good tenants aren't always the ones with the best credit or the highest income--although that does weigh heavily in my decisions. But really, the best tenants are the ones with the best character.

Character means the person on the the application in front of me looks an awful lot like the person I am speaking with on the phone. Character means everyone understands this is a business relationship, and the person renting my home is aware they must do their part to make this business relationship work (pay on time+keep the grass cut=don't get evicted).

Everyone has personal issues. But being accountable for the stuff life throws your way goes a long way in my book. Someone with a history of doing such, will probably continue acting the same way once they move in too.

Just Blowing Hot Air

I have been paying more attention to this blog of late than I have been to the properties in Alabama (and if you are still with me, you know how often of late I am updating). That is, until Wednesday.

Coincidentally, Wednesday I called in sick to my wonderful job (a company that sounds a lot like "y'all"). But, I am wondering exactly how life would have gone if I hadn't. Wednesday, the new tenant for the home Jack and I own started out our day by e-mailing me at 5 a.m. to tell me the air conditioning didn't work. And, not to worry. He had someone coming out right then and there. The company he sent out told me I need a new unit and they would be happy to oblige.

The new tenant now knows not to call AC companies without consulting me first.

Speaking of AC companies, I got a nice message at 6 a.m. from Glenda from the Most Awesomist AC Company in Birmingham (I believe Mr. and Mr. Awesomist now own a beach house on some remote island thanks to me and my rentals). You see, Ms. Angie has been having AC problems and Awesomist AC has been going out to take care of them. This is strange because the AC is three years old. The first time it was a part under warranty. The second time it was low on freon. The third time it was low on freon again.

It turns out one of the neighbor kids has been huffing freon from Ms. Angie's AC unit. I am not amused. Ms. Angie is not amused. "What is wrong with kids these days?! Whatever happened to just using White Out?" I asked, before I could catch myself.

Ms. Angie, the perfect tenant, came forward with her own solutions. She asked if I minded if she got a dog or a gun to keep the neighbor kids out of the back yard. Did I have a preference? I actually preferred a padlock. Cheaper, less mess and less liability for me in the long run. Hopefully she will pick option three.

Hmm... Maybe I Really Did Win The Alabama Lottery?

Let me back up a bit. A long time ago, I got a call from a woman who did not leave a name or phone number. The call came from an unidentified number, so there was absolutely no way to get back in touch with this woman even if I wanted to. The woman in question told me she was a lawyer and to call her back immediately or her "client" was suing me.

Once in a while I have also gotten phone calls from a variety of attorneys in the past. Generally the calls go like this, "Hello Mrs. Landlord, this is Prunella Jean McGillacutty, I am legal counsel for Mr. and Mrs. Jedidiah Wronged, I would like to discuss with you the impending situation and how we can come to a peaceful resolution. I would also be happy to discuss with Attorney Jon--your attorney of record--if you are unavailable or would prefer. I can be reached at...." (As a quick disclaimer, I have never been sued, nor do I do things to get me sued--but that doesn't stop those with a sense of entitlement from trying).

As you can see there is a big difference in quantity and quality of information. The first caller used words like "lawyer" and wanted to sue. The second one used words like "counsel" and "attorney." The second caller wanted solutions.

So then, fast forward to this past week. Though this could be about anything, because all his been eerily silent with Haroldine of late, I jumped to some conclusions. I got an unusual phone message from a 205 area code. It was a fast-talking, southern drawled woman who said, "Hello Landlord. My name is Roberta Rooster. You need to call me back." She didn't leave a number; she didn't give a reason.

Of course, I have her number from caller ID, but I don't have a compelling desire to run up my cell minutes talking to a stranger who couldn't be bothered to even give me a reason to call back. What I did find very interesting about Roberta's call was that I was given the option to reply via my voice mail--suggesting she had called me on a cell. Do attorneys call on cell phones at 2 in the afternoon?

Anyway, I decided to sleep on this latest crazy phone call and then I opted to do nothing. If this woman is a lawyer representing Haroldine, there is no case--Haroldine wasn't my tenant.

If she is an attorney representing Harold, I have a bigger issue--but the law is on my side. However, I would have to haul myself to Birmingham and spend more money than necessary to prove I am right--which I am.

I have no idea who this woman is and the reason she called. For all I know, she could be calling to tell me I won the Alabama lottery. However, I really don't feel like finding out. But more to the point, her phone was a catalyst to take care of something weighing on me. I sent Harold an accounting of everything paid in. I should have done it weeks ago. It was a pretty letter, with big, multi-syllable words with a twist of professional bitchy thrown in.

I should have sent it out weeks ago, once it appeared Haroldine was "confused" where Harold's deposit might have wandered off to. I made it very clear this time, there was no room for confusion.

I explained because they were late, they opted to move out instead of being evicted and because they left the place clean, I would not legally go after the remaining owed rent in form of a garnishment of Harold's wages. And no, they aren't getting their security deposit back, no matter how many names they call me.

Of course, when they were living there, I didn't use words like "eviction" and "garnishment." I merely suggested moving out because they couldn't afford to stay. That was cheaper (so far) and a lot less messy than an eviction. But the meaning then and now is the same.

Harold should be getting the copies of the letter via certified and regular mail early this week. I would like to believe the matter is now closed, but I am guessing Haroldine will be calling (or her friend Roberta) sometime soon.

Musical Homes

Might you step back in the wayback machine to last year. I had my tenant on Hysteria Lane move out. I only found this out because a neighbor managed to hunt me down and bawl me out for my poor choice of renters. The reason this was news to me is the tenant continued to pay rent, long after she left.

Once Kirby tracked her down, through my begging directive, Kirby offered to let her out of her lease if she would just go. But, she didn't want to. She essentially paid a lot of money to store a few belongings in an empty home (and pay the utilities and keep up the yard). Truly a storage locker would have been significantly cheaper. But in the end, she held up her end of the bargain.

Fast forward to October of last year. Her lease was about up. I was getting my home back. I was happy to have that chapter close, knowing I would get a new tenant eventually who would actually live in the home. And that's when  the tenant in question came back and asked to move back into this home. Pretty please.

My only concession was I wasn't willing to give her a year lease. I wanted her lease up in the summer so I would have a better selection of potential tenants to choose from. She obliged.

Coming as no surprise to Kirby or I, the tenant on Hysteria Lane gave her notice this week. She's moving out at the end of June. I am a bit sorry to see her leave. She pays on time and from what I have been told, maintains the property.

Though I have to tell you the neighbors next door don't seem to like her and her evil ways. Did you know she homeschools? How awful! What that woman is doing to her children! Can you believe it?! Yes, the tenant who hunted me down last year gave me an earful on that one too.

In an odd turn of events, I have a new renter for this home. My tenant who lives at my Waterford home would like to rent it. He is ready, willing and able to switch over as soon as it comes available. This is great news, as the one on Hysteria Lane costs slightly more. However, the home in Waterford is harder to rent.

My only requests to Kirby about the whole thing were to please make sure at least one (but preferably both) clean up on their way out. I don't need to spring for two cleanings. Also, allow us to show the Waterford home while they are moving. And, more to the point, have the soon-to-be-ex-Waterford-tenant sign a new lease, ending in the summer. I think this is going to be something I insist upon in the future. I don't want leases ending in November.

An Ego Boost

But first: a shout out to our dear Busy Mommy. She is half way through her chemo and kicking cancer's butt. Stay strong and keep the faith my friend.

I did Ms. Shirley a favor recently. I let her pay late when she announced she was paying late. And, thanks to my alternative work schedule, at the time she told me I was too dull-witted to give her any grief.

Tuesday I received a text from her. I have no idea what prompted it and I am not going to read too much into it or wonder if she accidentally sent it to me instead of the local postal worker. It was a very sweet message and completely out of the blue. Simply, she wrote me and thanked me for my kindness.

Welcome to my alternative universe.

Gutsy

I admit it. I pick my tenants partially from gut feel. Last year my home in Pinson was available and I had a couple I just didn't like. I couldn't put my finger on it, but they didn't sit well with me. My gut was screaming, "no!" Then, the male of the group got ugly with me and still expected to rent. So, I had an out.

Later on I found out that jerk guy is one of Mr. Smith's 26 Facebook friends (Mr. Smith being the former tenant who will forever be known as the Tenant from Hell). It is not a violation of Federal Fair Housing laws to deny housing to anyone based on their friendship with Mr. Smith.

I also had gotten a call from this couple. I remember her--only because of her name. Carolsue remembered them too.  At the time, they were part of the menagerie of crummy folks I wasn't excited to rent my home. It turns out my gut was right. I am not making light of this murder, but I have to tell you, I am really glad this didn't become my headache.

We Interrupt This Regularly Scheduled Blog...

to announce that the Diamondbacks are now in first place.

(A real blog scheduled for tomorrow, today is happy dance day!)

The Brain Dead Edition

There have been a couple of you (that would be two) of my five readers who actually notice I am not writing as much. It isn't personal.

It is because of two mitigating factors:

1. The drama right now is at a minimum, but I am expecting a vacant home and Haroldine to sue me at any time.

2. In addition to that whole real estate thing, I am working a summer job that requires me to show up and clock in at 6 a.m. Yes, you read that correctly. Morning. The job itself is grounds for a blog.  

There are Alabama things going on, of course. But I haven't really been keeping tabs too much. For example, I forgot to deposit the rent checks. This doesn't bode well with my bank account. Fortunately my mortgage payments didn't bounce.

Ms. Shirley has a few repairs that I need to direct to Mr. 114. But, he is busy rebuilding Birmingham after the tornado damage. And I am too flighty to find someone else to do it. Ms. Shirley is still being totally grateful I took care of the sewage back up in record time and isn't grossing too loudly about her floor. Did I mention I question the sanity of the person who put wood flooring in a bathroom? I'm just saying...

I haven't followed up on my problem tenants, except a text here and there. I haven't talked to Carolsue in ages. I haven't called Legal Eagle in a while to ask random questions and I haven't managed to get in touch with Attorney Jon who is supposedly taking care of an issue that I need taken care of months ago.

Pretty much, I am maintaining. And I am ok with that. It is actually pretty satisfying to be in a place where it is possible to let things just be. It is a long time coming.

I'm Keeping the Vineyard

Though I don't consider myself superstitious by nature, there are a few things that make me run screaming towards my happy place. One of them is summer. A few summers ago, when my blogs were more prolific, I had drama. Lots of it. Marty Sunshine was buying Costco quanitities of wine and chocolate and rationing it out to me in amounts he thought my liver could handle. The following summer was version 2.0 and Marty wisely bought a vineyard and stock in Hershy.

Last summer, because of better tenants and random dumb luck, I only vacationed in my happy place. There was no need to cower in the corner, thinking of babbling brooks and cool mountain air--unless I wanted to. It was a nice change. However, just like Pavlov's dog, I find that I still have triggers.

One of those triggers is phone calls from any tenant at 8 p.m. on a Tuesday night. In this case, Ms.  Shirley called in a panic. Her message said "back up" and "sewage." I did what any reasonable landlord would do, I called Mr. 114--her next door neighbor.

Now, it isn't as if I didn't believe Ms. Shirley, it is just that I am hesitant to call a plumber after hours unless there is a really, really good reason. Mr. 114, the awesome neighbor he is, zipped right over and called me back 10 minutes later. He said. Call the plumber. Now!

Apparently all of the showers/tubs/sinks were backing up. And, in some cases spilling out over the hardwoods. Fortunately for Ms. Shirley my plumber is willing to show up at 10 p.m. I am sure his bill will reflect this.

As for the damage, it doesn't sound like it is enough to make an insurance claim but enough to be a complete headache. I told Ms. Shirley to get the downstairs carpet cleaned. I also told her to have Mr. 114 check out the wood floors. It sounds like the bathroom floor will need to be replaced with a nice, neutral tile. (I ask you, who puts wood floors in a bathroom?) 

I prefer not to have plumbing backups in my home. But, it could have been a lot worse. Many people who shy away from being landlords cringe at this sort of thing. I certainly can appreciate that. But, I have personally lived my own version of this very late one Thanksgiving evening.

In Ms. Shirley's case she reacted quickly. The plumber was there within two hours. It looks like a carpet cleaning and a weekend tile project for Mr. 114 are in order. Ms. Shirley is being cool about the whole thing. She isn't screeching that I have caused her unnecessary harm. In fact, she thanked me for being on top of everything. And, if that is the worst my summer drama gets, perhaps we can sell the Hershey stock.

Good for Her

As most of you know, Saturday was predicted to be the Second Coming. I'm still here. And so is my family. Oddly enough, since Saturday, I have heard from several tenants. 

However, I can't find Ms. Angie anywhere. And, if anyone would be worthy to be called Home, it would be her. Hopefully she sent the rent check before she left.

Not Cool

By way of a a pitiful explanation, I worked job number one and job number two on Thursday and was so tired I couldn't even type this blog if I tried. My brain was so fried I couldn't even focus on the baseball game. I hear the Snakes won.

So, when I stupidly answered my phone, after seeing a 205-area code, it my own fault. It was Haroldine. The last time I heard from her was two weeks earlier when we discussed why she wasn't getting her deposit back. The reason for this call was to rehash her reasons she deserved her deposit refunded (and to let me know--in the event I missed it the first time--her opinion of me). It didn't really matter. My stance still hadn't changed, but my mood certainly had.

I would like to tell you I said something along the lines of "bless your heart." But at that exact moment, there was nothing left in me. Instead, as she bawled me out, I just put my phone down and walked away, taking care of the immediate events unfolding in my life, and more to the point, letting her call me names into the cellular void.

When I did come back, I heard her say, "Are you still there?"

Sadly I was, but my manners weren't. I told her I was done with her for the night. I also told her--only because I wasn't thinking quickly--if she wanted to rehash this, she would have to call me back on Friday. I really didn't feel like chatting. And then I said bye and hung up before she could protest any further.

After waking at 5 a.m. and dealing with people of all walks of life with all types of crises on Thursday, Haroldine's pissy fit didn't even make the radar of things that phase me (Sticks and stones Haroldine!). But it still doesn't warrant me to loose my cool--not that I care too much. I don't owe her a deposit. If I did, I assure you, I would pay it. I don't steal.

An Open Letter

Dear Tenants,

I don't care if the world is ending and Jesus is coming back on Saturday like some preacher says, your rent is still due. Pay up!

Cordially,
The Landlord

The Accidental Friendship

Once upon a time, in the dark days before Bliz started handling my books, I had Bookkeeper Erin. Erin lasted two months and, much to Erin's dismay, I ended up getting the Arizona Attorney General's office involved with the whole affair.

Erin may never really want to hear my name again.  But then again, she shouldn't have opted to steal from me. I'm just saying...

The single, most wonderful thing that ever came out of the two months of Erin hell was that she recommended Diamond Jim the CPA.

Diamond Jim was born somewhere shy of 70 years ago. He grew up in Las Vegas, with both his grandfather and father working on the Hoover Dam project in the 1930s. At some point in his teen years he spent some time on the Navajo Indian Reservation. And one of closest friends in high school is a former governor of Nevada. He has led a full life.

Diamond Jim has been doing taxes for about 30 years in the Mesa area. He is well respected in the community. He is one of the most dynamic men I have ever met. When we go to breakfast (about once a month) there are at least two or three random folks who come up to shake his hand and say hello. He knows everyone on a first-name basis. Why he hangs out with me is anyone's guess.

Our breakfast chats of business, taxes and real estate are peppered with stories of the antics about his grandsons, grousing over Diamondbacks losses, the Oregon Ducks, politics, history, current events, naturally occurring weather phenomena and our ongoing debate over which book is better, "The Cather in the Rye" or "The Stand".

I find him fascinating and am proud to call him my friend. With the exception of my summer employment, he is pretty much the only reason I am willing to wake up before 7 a.m. any day of the week. Which brings me to the reason we are meeting in a few hours...

Diamond Jim sent me a note last Friday. You see, he has a major dilemma and he felt confident enough in our friendship that he thought he could ask me to help. He had just come back from visiting his grandchildren in South Carolina. While he was visiting, the older of the two boys finished, "Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince." The younger was reading "Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban."

Diamond Jim is many things--including completely clueless about Harry Potter. As he said to me Friday as way of explaining why he wanted to meet, "I have until I go back to visit in September to learn everything there is about Harry Potter. Will you teach me?"

Yes. Yes I will. Even though it is 11:54 p.m. as I write this. I will get up at some horrid hour to introduce him to the adventures of Harry, Ron and Hermione. I will loan him the first audio book and see if I can fill him in enough so that he can be the cool granddad with Timmy and Ricky. After all, that's what friends are for.

The Noble Mr. Noble

Mr. Noble e-mailed me on Sunday. If he hadn't, I was planning on contacting him anyway. You see, his lease is up next month. What he wanted to know is if he could go month-to-month?

I was so pleased to read this. For one thing, I was pretty certain he would be leaving after his lease. And, with my two newish problem tenants, it made my heart sing to know I could delay Mr. Noble's inevitable departure another few months (and hopefully he won't choose to move out in December).

But even more to the point, even though leases have their place, I actually prefer month-to-month with my established tenants. With a 30 day notice, they can give notice. Or, I can give them notice. Or, if I really want them out but think just giving them notice isn't exactly going to go well, I can tell them in 30 days I am raising the rent by $500. If they don't move, the garnishment will be more. But, it is certainly motivating for them to leave.

In Mr. Noble's case, I suspect he prefers a short-term commitment. Last year he took issue with my lease when I put him on the hook for an entire year (hence, the purpose of the lease). Perhaps he is looking to purchase a home? Or perhaps after last month's tornadoes he is seeing the Birmingham rental housing market become more scarce (my personal fantasy)? Either way, he is staying for now.

Believe It or Not

Jim and Mary are landlords. They came by this honestly, knowing full well they were planning on doing so when they opted to buy a bigger home a few years ago. Recently their rental went vacant for the first time in three years, and they traversed into the new territory of tenant screening.

When this happened, Jim's first call was to me. Did I happen to have a rental application he might be able to use? Yes, yes I did. I even offered to run credit and a background check.

A few weeks later, Jim followed through, sending me said completed application and asking me to do my magic. Jim isn't the first friend who has asked for help this way. Because I am something akin to a "legitimate business" I have signed up with a company that will run these searches. They just don't run them for the average Tom, Jim and Mary.

What I got back was a pretty reasonable picture of the tenant to be. A single woman, presumably going through a divorce. I knew this just by looking at her credit report--she has a house payment but she is moving. Her credit score is fabulous. People with fabulous credit scores don't generally walk away from the homes they bought more than 10 years ago without good reason. Hence, a divorce.

The prospective tenant in question also had a bit of consumer debt. On her application, she said one number, the credit report said another. It wasn't too far off, but I am guessing she downplayed it for Jim and Mary's sake.

When I talked to Jim and Mary I gave them the information. I told them I was somewhat concerned about the amount of consumer debt, and would want to know the stability of the prospective tenant's job. If her job is stable, then by all means, she can pay her bills and she won't be an issue. Additionally, I would want to know who is assuming the long-term debt in the marriage. The last thing Jim and Mary need three months from now is to hear rent was going to be late because the prospective tenant needed to make a car payment. But otherwise, this person looked good to go.

"You would not believe the number of weirdos I  have talked to." Mary confided in me, regarding the applicants she had received before this woman.

Actually, I would believe the number of weirdos Mary had talked to. And yes, based on what I saw on her application and background check, this tenant was definitely a dream come true.

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

I should begin by telling you the first thing Haroldine said to me on Monday was "Happy Mother's Day." Our conversation went downhill from there.

It appears Haroldine is furious with me. I didn't return her deposit. And, I am not going to.

Haroldine was one of my few tenants whose rent was originally due on the first day of the month. When Haroldine's life started getting dicey, I offered to change her payment due date to the 15 of the month, so that she wouldn't incur late fees. Tenants who can't pay the rent, don't have the late fees either.

Haroldine readily agreed to this change. But somehow she was still paying late--like the beginning of the next month. So, the rent for the March 1 through the 31st--with a payment due date of March 15--was getting to me on April 1.

What I didn't understand was that in Haroldine's mind, her rent dates had magically shifted from the 15th of the month to the 14th of the following month--in essence, she had 15 days rent free. In my book, all that changed was the actual date her payment was supposed to arrive--and yet, never did. Her rent payment was still for the first of the month until the end of the month.

When Haroldine and I talked about her being out by April 30, I told her we would use her deposit for April's rent. That would be April 1 through 30th. Haroldine thought her (late) March payment was from March 15 through April 14. However, I didn't know that at the time. I certainly do now.

It never occurred to me Haroldine was thinking this way. After all, it made perfectly good sense to me. I was helping a tenant out so they can get the *^%$& rent check to me closer to the due date. Not that she ever did.

Sadly, I didn't understand Haroldine somehow thought differently until Monday when she asked where her deposit was. And she was none-too-happy when I told her it wasn't being refunded. Of course, at the time, I wasn't aware she thought I gave her 15 free days of rent. And even though I explained it a few times, apparently in her eyes I went from being an "understanding Christian woman" to  a "nasty, greedy money-grubbing woman who takes advantage of poor working folks."

I am kind of sad it came to this. And more importantly I'm sad there was a misunderstanding that could have been easily remedied early on. Haroldine lashing out doesn't really bother me. Money is on the line. I am fair about money and I don't take what isn't mine. This one is mine.

I have no idea if Haroldine is going to sue me or not. She said she was. But, I see that as a lot of effort for $500 she won't win. It will cost me a lot more to fly out to defend Haroldine's assertion (provided Jack can't do it--but I bet he can). Haroldine said a lot of other unflattering things too. I can live with that. But, just like the tenant who tried to ruin me for saying Happy Mother's Day, Haroldine has now ruined this favor for other future tenants.

A Tale of Two Landlords

I've been doing this for a few years. Up until three years ago, the whole landlord-thingy went smoothly. I thought at the time it was because of my awesome management skills. It turns out the economy was better and--at least at that time--most of my super-bad decisions hadn't come back to bite me.

Then one day I went to dinner at Mr. and Mrs. Partner's home. We were discussing all things Alabama and I lamented at how I had a tenant or two who just drove me nuts. I shouldn't have rented to them in the first place. Mr. Partner slowly turned his head and said, "Get rid of them. You don't need the headache." Little did he know what kind of headache would ensure.

Of course, "getting rid of them" led to a lot of great blog fodder. After all, bad decisions are good stories. I also found out that my "tenant or two" was really more like six or seven. And, because I was already on a roll, why not just weed out all the crummy ones?

It took two years to kiss goodbye my deadbeats and my stomach lining. And, for those of you who were paying attention, it wasn't an easy process. Deadbeats don't go quietly. Actually, deadbeats don't really just go. They need prodding from the court system.

What I found was I had different echelons of deadbeats. I had the ones like Wayward and Mr. Smith who needed to go a long time before I removed them. I had others like Mr. Richards who were limping along because they paid but stayed under the radar because their shenanigans weren't as offensive as others. Eventually they all left me but their own variety of drama remained. Mr. Richards for example left me with a freezer full of meat in a home with no electricity.

When I say that Ms. Kathy or Ms. Shirley are issues, they are nothing compared to the years prior. In both of their cases, they just needed to change creditors. I am not going to carry them a bit longer so they can pay their other bills or head to the bingo parlor on a Saturday night.

Which brings me to today. I have two tenants who, through experience, tell me I shouldn't be letting limp along. Both I believe will move if I ask. But, I am not sure I want to ask. The experienced landlord says this doesn't bode well. But they aren't the Wayward/Mr. Smith/Mr. Richards/Ms. Betty types. They are decent, hard working, communicative folks who have always paid on time (more or less) and have gotten themselves in a situation. I am cautious to say, "this is different" than before because the words are the same, but they are coming from different types of people.

Tenant A: Before her life changed, she paid on time and left me alone. About a year ago, all heck broke loose and she has had the darnest time keeping up with the bills. I get her rent check broken into two chucks throughout the month. He lease is up soon. I suspect she will look into moving. I know she isn't going to find cheaper for the amount of home she has if she leaves. She will soon find out too. But more to the point, she has never, ever been an issue.

At the moment, I can go on indefinitely with this arrangement if she will. However, I know if she moves I can ask much more for the home. But I am taking my chances on another tenant who might have baggage.

I hate tenant baggage.

At least with Tenant A I know where she stands. She communicates on a regular basis and hasn't caused me a lick of grief in three years.

Tenant B: She has rented from me for four years. Lik e Tenant A, she doesn't make her problems mine. A few months ago, her husband lost his job, but all she did was let me know. She continued to pay and then she got laid off too. Now, rent is super-late. She is communicating with me about what is going on, but only after I pointed out communicating with me is in her best interest. She is embarrassed. I know she is working on rent.Her husband was supposed to get a job offer the day the tornadoes hit Birmingham. Now his job is up in the air. I suspect if I allow her to go on limping, she will eventually straighten out.

I am expecting (minus Tenant A) at least two, maybe three vacancies this summer. One of them is one of the homes Kirby manages. Given the now shortage of rental homes in Birmingham, it might keep my tenants with me longer. And, if they do go vacant, I suspect I will have my choice of new tenants.

But vacancies cost money. So, Tenant A and B not stepping up make me more vulnerable. The experienced landlord in me says not to make bargains with folks who struggle. Giving a teensy bit gives the wrong impression that I am weak. But the other experienced landlord in me says to work with tenants who deserve a chance. They don't have baggage and (so far) they have honor.

Hopefully I am listening to the right experienced landlord.

In Case You Are Reading This, Happy Mother's Day

When I testified last February, one of the baselines the lawyer for my former tenant used to justify she (the former tenant) and I had been "friends" was that I had wished her a Happy Mother's Day. It was a lame attempt at the time, and even now I laugh about it. But Legal Eagle warned me not to do it again.

Mother's Day is important to me. My life changed the moment I found out I was pregnant with Polly--a child who was never supposed to be. Today, I received two e-mails from tenants wishing me a Happy Mother's Day. I would have preferred to send back a note of the same, but I know better. One bitter tenant ruined it for the rest of my very good tenants.

I no longer wish tenants Happy Mother's Day. I no longer send baby presents to tenants who are new mothers or grandmothers. I no longer acknowledge birthdays or other special occasions that make life so personal that tenants share with me. Why? Because I don't know if I will ever have to testify against another tenant. I won't take that chance again.

A Sweet Southern Story

So... Jack knows I am phobic about snakes.

My phobia is so bad that I walked out of Raiders of the Lost Ark when I was a kid. I still haven't seen it. (I am up in the air about Harry Potter 7.2. Maybe I can just hide behind Buckaroo during any scene with a snake... but I digress.)

Now when Jack and I talk, he refers to the snakes as "critters." It is his way of making it sound less scary.

It isn't working, but I don't want to hurt his feelings.