Unfinished Business

Note: In the event you find this post offensive, my apologies. I don't wish to dishonor Jon's memory or the mourning process--he truly was a wonderful man. However, as this blog is the day in the life of running an accidental business, this is part of a day in the life. It isn't fun and I seriously wish I wasn't doing these tasks. But, this is what I am up to.

I've lost two special people in the last three weeks through untimely, senseless deaths. Both ripped me up. Death is a natural process, but sometimes through unnatural means. And yet, we the living are left to sort out and find meaning for what is left. Even if there is no meaning.

I had breakfast with Diamond Jim on Thursday. Our usual Harry Potter book club and Diamondbacks discussion was marred with my questions: what do I do now? I have unfinished business. And, in this case, I mean just that--business. Attorney Jon was supposed to handle two things for me that I am not sure he did.

And, given Attorney Jon was a one-man show, I don't know where to proceed. What do I do? And exactly what is the etiquette here? When can I ask Legal Eagle to take care of these things? I can't wait too long, because someone is going to go through his office. I need her find what Attorney Jon didn't do before someone comes along and my paperwork is lost in the shuffle.

And for that matter, how do I find the paperwork? Attorney Jon had the originals. He also had a wonderful paralegal. Will she go through his papers? How do I get in touch with her? And precisely when is the appropriate time to try to leave a message for her? After all, technically she doesn't have a job any more.

Worse than that, Legal Eagle and Attorney Jon were friends. So I have to burden her with the added work when she is grieving. It seems heartless.

All of it.

Jon

I spoke with Legal Eagle briefly yesterday. Through our tears, we talked about how much we loved Jon. Everyone loved attorney Jon. I wish you all could have met him. He truly was a shining star, far above the others. He was a man of great character. He once told me his father told him to always shop at businesses that display the American flag. He said, "Those are businesses who understand we are in the land of opportunity." I am blessed to have known him.

This was in the Birmingham News today.

Horrible News

Some days just totally suck. Today is one of them.

My dear Attorney Jon passed away yesterday. He left behind a wife and five daughters.
Rest in His peace Jon.

A Small Price to Pay

So, Katie and Cole are looking to purchase a rental home. Luckily for them, they have found one. And, as luck would have it, there is a ready-made tenant in place.

Tammy and her seven year old son have lived in this home (under another landlord) for six years. They pay the rent on time. They take care of the home. The son goes to school just five minutes away. Grandma and Grandpa live around the corner and have watched the son since birth.

Currently Tammy is paying $800 a month. Truly a steal. This house could rent for much more. Tammy has told me she can swing $900.

Katie and Cole are buying this home for cash. Their monthly outlay (with home owners' association dues, taxes and insurance) is under $200. They want $950 a month. What did I think?

I think we are talking about $50 a month, or $600 for a year. What I explained to Katie and Cole was just that. What were they getting for a "loss" of $600? They have a tenant who hasn't moved in six years. Tammy takes great care of the home. She has put down roots and is truly happy where she is.

Meanwhile, Katie and Cole don't have a vacant home from the time Tammy moves out until a new tenant is found. They don't have to screen prospective tenants. They don't have to take a chance on a new tenant who might not be so kind. Katie and Cole don't have to pay for general maintenance and clean up when Tammy moves out. And, I assure you, the repair for the television Tammy currently has mounted to the living room wall will cost a good portion of the $600 they are "saving."

Conversely, what if Katie and Cole just came right out and asked for the additional $50 a month? Tammy might just pay it. But what if Tammy isn't stretching the truth?

I am convinced more drama takes place over a tenant living outside their budget than necessary. The tenant wants to stay. The tenant (normally) doesn't want to disappoint. The additional money troubles more often than not become the landlord's burden. And trust me, landlord's don't want to deal with a tenant's burden.

In this case, I happen to believe Tammy. I met her on Sunday. She and I were discussing baseball and she casually mentioned she cut her cable cut off because it wasn't in her budget. I saw the coupons sitting around the counter. Though we didn't talk outright about her rental situation, the conversation turned to the economy and her current state of affairs.

Tammy isn't a victim. She is trying to make it. She doesn't want to uproot her son. When Katie and Cole met her Sunday as well, they saw the same thing and they saw my point: $50 a month is a small price to pay to have a stable, long-term tenant.

Dream A Little Dream With Me

This is where I want to be right now.

 
This island is on the Gulf side of Flordia. You can only get there by boat or by plane. The beaches are pure white. The water is blue--not mucky ocean water. But blue.
 
There are no cars on the island--except the fire department. They have two trucks. And a boat.
 
Marty Sunshine's uncle lives here. Uncle Sunshine is the greatest human being in the world. Being around him inspires me.
 
 

I really want to go on vacation this year.

 

Really.

 

Really.

 

Really.

 

 

I would even suffer through seeing the over-stuffed commericalized mouse in Orlando just to go here.

 

 

This week I paid all of the home owners' insurances for our accidental business on my credit card. The LLCs have reimbursed me. Why? My credit card gives me frequent flyer miles for my (hopefully) vacation. 

 

I'm crossing my fingers and toes for a Decmeber vacation.

Surprise

So, it appears Ms. Robin is moving out. This comes as no surprise to me. She has been struggling to make the rent for the past year. Last week she came to this astounding revelation and took the time to share it with me on Thursday.

The funny thing was she would have come to the astounding revelation with or without my help. She was getting served by Carolsue on Monday--only because I figured it would take me until Sunday to catch up enough to make it happen.

There was a time when this was a no-brainier.  I (with Carolsue's help) get it rented, deal with tenant screening drama and a new person to write about would emerge. Not this time.

This time, I am letting Kirby handle it. There is still drama, but I don't have to be in the front lines. I don't have to answer the calls from the throngs of Birmingham's soon-to-be homeless wondering if I will accept king cobras, space aliens and Dodger's fans (no, yes as long as they have a job and NO WAY).

That is of course, if Kirby will take this home--because he still has yet to call me back. But no matter. I will probably loose track in a day or so, and by the time I get around to fretting that I haven't heard from him, he will be on my phone. Kirby's good that way. And I will be the one suprised.

Silliness

"That's silly," was the response from Bliz, when I told her what I had to do to avoid spending $11.95 per month in fees for one of our bank accounts. And, yes, the end result was silly.

You see, my bank has started charging business accounts this fee if they don't keep a minimum balance or pay three bills out of the account every month. For my other business accounts, it isn't a problem. For the account for the LLC we have with Jack, it is not going to happen. We have one house. We pay one mortgage every month (when the AC goes out or there is a minor snake infestation maybe another bill or two). That's the extent of it.

When I told Marty Sunshine of this, he said a lot of non-sunshiney type things and threatened to close shop at this bank. However, this bank has two things going for it. One: it has locations in Alabama and Arizona. And two: it has lower fees than other banks with locations in both places (are you listening Well's Fargo and Bank of America???).

My favorite bank manager, Jenny, who is now on her third branch since we met, helped me out by opening up a personal checking account. This simple little change should eliminate these fees.

Of course, I won't get all the additional business perks like.... um.... oh yea! like free cashier's checks (which I have never used). I will also have the added benefit of trying to explain to Jack--who is a signer on the old account--that he can be a signer on the new account by jumping through an amazing number of hoops.

Hopefully he won't think the whole thing is very silly.

And as a public service announcement:

I would like to point out if you are looking to rent a moving truck, and you opt to be totally nasty to the moving truck employee on the phone--who, by the way, is holding your entire future in your hands--you might end up being transferred to the wrong number or to a location where the employee is totally aware that particlar location is closed for the day.

The only reason you are transferred to one of the above locations, dear nasty customer who wants a moving truck and decides to call the employee trying to help you a "half-wit minimum wage grunt" is because the phone line at the location in the far reaches of hell is busy. I'm just saying...

Not that I would do something so unprofessional. But there are others who might.

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.
___________________________________________________________________

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.
___________________________________________________________________


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