The Great Leeds Inferno

So, Carolsue sends me an e-mail link yesterday to a wildfire burning out of control in Alabama. She wrote, "Is this close to your home in Leeds?"

Nope. I don't have a home in Leeds.

Let's hope Mr. Ex-Partner has fire insurance.




I did just check, the fire is now contained. It did not burn any structures. And it would have had to go about a mile South and passed through several neighborhoods prior to getting my now-former home. 

Ok, I'm A Little Crazy

Mr. Ex-Partner e-mailed me today. He wanted Legal Owl's information. He did not ask for an introduction. I did not offer one either.

Though this may seem mundane, I have to tell you, it is about once a week Mr. Ex-Partner asks me for something I have already given him. In this case, I knew darn well he had Legal Owl's information. I know he has e-mailed her last summer (because he cc'd me). And I legitimately believe he doesn't realize he has this information.

He also doesn't believe he has the financials for the first and second quarter of 2015. He does--and so does his accountant because he filed his 2015 taxes earlier this year. He misplaced Mario's phone number at one point--though he e-mailed me for it, and cc'd Mario. I am sure if he just Googled Mario's name or company he could have found it quicker. And the list goes on. Even with my zen filing methods I am better organized than this.

Sometimes when he sends me an e-mail asking for what I know I have given him I just reforward the last e-mail with the information once again. At first, he was humble and contrite, thanking me and acknowledging that he probably should have looked on his own. Lately however, he doesn't respond. Which is ok. I don't take it personally. It gives me blog fodder, no matter how mundane.

When I was writing our dissolution agreement, Mr. Ex Partner wanted me to put in the document about how I would be of "assistance" to the Ex-Partners in perpetuity. I promise, that clause isn't in there because I am not crazy.

Lost

We are in the process of shutting down our accidental business. I am told this entire ordeal could take as long as six more years to complete or as little as we could be done by the end of 2017 (but no sooner than then).

Closing down a business is not just as simple as hanging up a "gone fishing" sign and locking the door. For one thing, the IRS wants to be involved. And so does the state of Alabama. The State of Arizona has already been involved--and they drove me nuts. There are lots of items that need some attention, but not the kind of laser-focus I have had to give to everything prior.

Then there is letting all of the homes go. Right now we have a house for sale. As they empty we sell.

There is also the emotional aspect of releasing all I have done for the past 14 years. Coupling this with not home schooling and the fact I am not currently working (another story) and I am struggling to find my place in all this. I am lost.

Last summer Bliz asked me what I was going to do with all my spare time. The truth is, her question scared me. I still don't know.

Random Bama

We have an offer on our Grayson Valley home. Currently, we are in the inspection phase, which is when these folks usually walk. Generally they find some minor infraction, like the floors aren't wood. Or it needs a stove (thank you stupid former tenant for taking the stove). Mind you, they are getting an investor price on this house. I am not fixing it up and selling it for retail.

Lest you think I'm being cynical, this this has  been what has happened at the last two times I have tried to sell a home over there. The one I had for sale this summer had an offer and the folks backed out because (at $98k--another investor price) it didn't have granite counter tops.

________________________________________

This past week I got the tax bills for the homes in Birmingham. It is with my greatest pleasure I can send these directly over to Mr. Ex-Partner. Every year he has bitched and moaned about how we ask for money to pay the taxes. I want to say, "I told you so." But frankly, I have been kind of saying this in my head since July.

________________________________________

Yesterday I got a text from a former tenant in Birmingham. It went to me directly, not a group of people. All it said was, "Roll Tide."

When *!@$*&^ Just Doesn't Seem to Cover It

In Other News...

I heard from Polly's history teacher this week. Polly, in a moment of adolescent frustration, said to her teacher, "bless your heart."

It turns out Polly's teacher was born and raised in the South and knew exactly what Polly meant.

There's A Hole In The Hot Water Heater, Dear Flunky, A Hole

Backstory: Yesterday I got a note from Kirby, my HVAC guy, former property manager and real estate agent (and mind you, one of the few people in Birmingham who is not allergic to work). Anyhoo... he heard from Flunky the Asshat--the maintenance manager of MY CURRENT property management company. Flunky didn't call me. He called Kirby.

It appears there is some sort of water issue at the Waterford home and Flunky, the genius he is, sends an HVAC guy out to see why--and I am not making this up--water is leaking from the hot water heater. To be fair, I am no rocket scientist, but I can pretty much guarantee if I hear water is leaking from the hot water heater the person I would contact (after telling the owner) would be a plumber. But that's just me. Apparently Flunky understands the subtle nuances of property management maintenance about this better than I do. Why else would he send an air conditioner repair person out to fix a hot water heater?

Kirby, bless him, wrote a very nice e-mail to both Flunky and myself saying that he concurs with the tenant: it appears in his professional estimation the issue is with the hot water heater. And because he is a gentleman, he thanked Flunky for the opportunity to help, but in this case this issue is just not in the scope of what he does for a living, so he will have to pass.

And Flunky? What did he do? Flunky followed up with me in a short, yet terse, e-mail and said if there was something I needed, to let him know. Yeppers. There was no, "I will call a plumber immediately and get this fixed," or anything of that nature. Nope. Nothing. The the rest of the correspondence with Flunky went something like this.

At any rate, in the end, I sent I highly-edited e-mail to Flunky asking him (after an insane back and forth) to please call a plumber. Because it appeared Flunky just wasn't going to think of this all by himself.

When "Bless Your Heart" Just Doesn't Cover It

So the house in Grayson Valley was vacated by now-former tenants with anger issues. The way the law works is the property management, on the day they find out the tenants have moved, are to put a abandonment notice on the door. After that time, the home is mine. I am still waiting for that notice, but it hasn't come. I gave up and decided to roll the dice and see if the tenants will sue me instead.

Last Wednesday, I had the place cleaned out, the lawn mowed and took the house out of management. I wrote Luigi and Flunky, stating now that they have professionally taken care of the abandonment notice, I was pulling the home out of management and was going to sell it. Kirby would be by to pick up the keys. Luigi, who is apparently clueless to what his employees are doing, didn't see the dripping sarcasm. Flunky the Asshat didn't bother to answer.

Over the weekend Kirby showed up at the Grayson Valley home to assess what it would take to sell the place. He told me the locks have now been changed and there is a lock box on the door. Seriously? The property management company couldn't  be bothered for six weeks to check on this house to verify the status of the tenants, but they can--right after I take the house out of management, mind you--hop on over and change the locks.

Yesterday I sent a note to Flunky, reminding him that his company doesn't manage this home anymore, there is no reason to have the keys changed and a lock box, and by the way, what is the combination so Kirby can get in the house?

And what did Flunky do? He wrote me (and cc'd Kirby, my real estate agent) the following e-mail:

Please have your handyman return the lockbox to our office.

Yep, he wrote that. He expects my "handyman" to just jump on this, drive over to my house, take the lock box off and then drive 30 miles to their office and hand over a $20 piece of hardware.

It took every ounce of self control I had not to contact Flunky and tell him what I thought of his solution.

Instead, I wrote Kirby. I said, as my real estate agent, he was bound by fiduciary law to obey all relevant and reasonable requests I give. In this case, he was not, under any circumstances, to touch that lock box. If the property management company wants it, they can go pick it up. I also said a lot of things I thought about Flunky the Asshat, all of which Kirby had heard before and also knew to be true.

Kirby wrote me back with simply, "No worries, your handyman won't touch it either."

Vermin

So, the house in Grayson Valley came vacant. The super-classy tenants just took off one day and left half of their crap behind. When the house came vacant, I decided to sell it if I can. Our business is changing and hanging on to homes is not where I see my immediate future. So, Kirby went over. He also took one look at the place, shook his head and quickly backed out the door.

The tenants left a good portion of their worldly belongings--which will hopefully go to good use for someone. But not the turtle in the garage. Sadly, with the Alabama heat and humidity, and being trapped in a cage for six weeks, the poor thing just didn't make it. But sadly, that wasn't the only critters to be found.

According to Baseball Guy, he found a snake skin in the attic. I was preferring to think of it as someone's fishnet stocking, and probably would have gone along thinking that, if Carolsue hadn't found "evidence of snakes" in the garage. There was also "evidence" of other critters too, such as rats.

In addition to the critters, the former tenant (who happens to be an NFL player), bashed in the master bedroom door and the door frame is in splinters. In my experience, when I see door jambs in splinters like this, I think of domestic violence. That could not have been a happy home. But it looks like the worst of the vermin have left.

And When I Say...

I have hired the "best property management company in Birmingham," you know that's tongue and cheek? Right? Well, partially.

Actually, Luigi's company, when I first started working with them WERE the best property management company I could find. Actually, Kirby's company was the best, but he wisely bailed, because property management sucks. I know this first-hand. I also know what it takes to manage rental homes. I do this for a living. And before I went to work for a property management company, I managed these gazillion homes. I gave them to Kirby.

Over the course of the life of this accidental business, I have hired, and fired, several property management companies. In one case, the Alabama Attorney General got involved. I have also personally interviewed the majority of the other property management companies in Birmingham. All were pleased to see me, as I had a nice, fat book of business to offer them. But when all is said in done, none of them did business the way I did business.

Most of the property management companies I spoke with made it a policy--and they did this without blinking--to just hand the keys to a home to prospective tenants, let them see the place and then trust them to lock everything up, not steal the copper, appliances or vandalize and bring the keys back. If you want to take a moment to read that again, I understand. Take your time. It blows my mind too. Anyway, I didn't hire those companies.

Mario's property management company wasn't too bad, except they were expensive and they expected me to spend lots of time on the computer watching videos of how they operated and required me to get questions answered by logging into a portal that needed some sort of wonky password I could never remember. Usually my questions could not be answered by a computer anyway, so I still had to hunt someone down, explain to them I already looked on their FAQ list (which I probably didn't) and then just say, "While we are on the phone anyway, why not just answer my question." Mario and I also got off to a really bad start. We are ok now, but I haven't forgotten that the first time I gave him direction, he said, "Why don't you go ask your husband what you should do and call me back." I would be willing to bet he hasn't forgotten the earful he got for that one.

When I hired Luigi's company, I specifically asked Luigi many questions. I wanted to make sure we were on the same wavelength and we conducted business the same way.  I was prepared to manage these properties myself with Carolsue's help if I didn't find a company I liked. I had done it before, I could do it again. He successfully passed muster. I gave him everything I had except Ms. Angie's home and Mrs. Sherwood's home.

Cruella Deville 

Since those days, Luigi's company is not what it used to be. I believe they have had growing pains as they have expanded and branched out. That always comes with awkward changes. Luigi gave the day to day tasks to a variety of folks who have come and gone. Ms. Amy seems to be the only constant. And, I am not a fan of her. Additionally, Flunky is also now more involved in the owner relations end of Luigi's business. Frankly, Luigi might have been better off hiring Cruella Deville instead. She is more pleasant.

At this point, I am kind of resigned. Our business is going through its own changes. I am keeping Luigi's company for now. It seems easier than spending the time, energy and effort to train a new property manager that I will probably like even less. Besides, I have a system in place if I need something from Luigi's company. I just e-mail Luigi. He then forwards the message to the appropriate party. He always cc's me, with a gentle reminder that I should go to the right person to get what I need done. I guess what he doesn't realize, is that he is the "right" person.

The Answer Is Probably No

It may sound uncharitable, but I immensely dislike Flunky the Asshat. I am doing my best to hide my true feelings when I talk with him, but he doesn't make it easy. For example, the folks in Fultondale have some sort of dishwasher issue.

On July 27, 2016 Flunky sent me an e-mail asking what should he do?

I immediately wrote him back and said, "We can resolve this in a five minute phone call. Please call me when you have a moment." Experience tells me an e-mail exchange will take a week and he won't answer my questions: are the folks up to date on the rent, what exactly is wrong with the dishwasher and how expensive is this fix? As soon as he calls me, he will know my answer.

On Sunday, September 4, 2016 I got my first response from Flunky about this matter. He said: "Sorry that I have not been able to call you about this. Please let me know if you will replace the dishwasher."

As soon as he calls me, he will know my answer.

#TeamTrashed Won

Turns out my home that the former NFL football player left is more in shambles than I hoped. I don't have the money to fix this place up and sell it. Yes, yes. I know. I can sue. I don't really have the money for that either.

And by the way, the reason I know this isn't because Flunky the Asshat promptly ran over and told me. It is because Kirby swung by and took a gander. He also took several pictures. If you are in the neighborhood, he left some pretty sweet stuff behind.

I hate people today.

It Means SHE DOESN'T LIVE THERE ANY MORE

There are things which are morbidly funny to me. I have a warped sense of humor--especially for the irreverent. I have not stopped chuckling since Mrs. Roebuck and I spoke earlier this week. For those of you unfamiliar with the ongoing saga of Mr. Ex-Partner and Mrs. Roebuck, you can read about it here and here. It will save me the twelve paragraphs of backstory. I promise you, it is worth it.

I can wait. Take your time...

Ok, for those of you who detest clicking on other links, the simplified backstory goes like this: for years, the Ex-Partners and the Sunshines had a hard-to-rent home in a questionable neighborhood. We all agreed to let Mrs. Roebuck live there for some shamelessly low rental rate. She could afford as much as she was paying and she took care of the property, which is more than we can say for some of the previous tenants. Four days after Mr. Ex-Partner started managing his own properties, he and Mrs. Roebuck came to blows with Mrs. Roebuck summarily moving out. Mr. Ex-Partner came to me and said, "Why would she leave???"

She left because he was rude, uncharitable and obnoxious. Perhaps not in that order--but I wasn't there. My answer was simply, "I don't know, why don't you call her?"

What made me laugh so hard (and I still am) is that last week Mr. Ex-Partner e-mailed Mrs. Roebuck and said something along the lines of, "For a $50 increase in the rent you were once paying, I will let you move back in. What do you think?"

Mrs. Roebuck didn't think much of it. She has already moved. She has a new place to live. She has paid movers, utility companies and all other subsequent fees which come with a life transition. She has changed her mail. She has changed her insurance. But because he asked, she said if he paid all of the necessary costs to move once again, she would consider it. As of this writing, she hadn't heard back if he would play.

However, he did send another note to her, completely bypassing her answer and suggesting if she took care of a simple maintenance issue or two at her former home, he would trade that for one month's rent.

"What rent?" was her response. Mrs. Roebuck then reiterated. She doesn't live there any more and their relationship is over. Apparently he still isn't fully comprehending what "moving out" means.

#TeamSell

Lately every decision made in the ole' accidental business seems to be made by committee. I was grumbling to Marty Sunshine about this today. I want to sell my now-vacant home. Can I?

I sent out feelers to the Arizona lawyer for her opinion. I then sent out a note to Diamond Jim. Would it be ok to sell? Or would it be a huge tax consequence? Then I contacted Kirby and asked him for his counsel.

Marty Sunshine says this is why we hired these folks--to protect us. To me, it just takes longer and usually has the same result as if we had made the decisions ourselves.

For the record, Diamond Jim, Marty and I want to sell. Kirby is all for that, but then again he benefits if it sells. The tie-breaker is the attorney. She gets five votes.

Things that Make My Eye Twitch

It isn't that I expected more from the guy renting my Grayson Valley home, but he could have--I don't know--given notice before skipping out. But I expect that of anyone renting.  Then again, the people in the South are big on boasting to everyone about how great their manners are--even though most of them have never uttered "please" and "thank you" unless their mother was standing over them.

It isn't that I expected more from the "best property management company" in Birmingham (they are the best--if that tells you something) but I am not quite sure why Flunky, et. al., couldn't be bothered to investigate why rent wasn't coming in sooner and not wait until I had to light a fire under their collective asses.

When Flunky e-mailed me today and announced, "Rent is late," I asked if he had bothered to contact the tenants. "We have been trying," was his super-professional response. When I asked if anyone had bothered to go out to the property, he didn't respond. Later he e-mailed me and said Mr. Former Tenant texted him back. Guess what?! They moved about six weeks ago.

Our Own National Holiday

The Most Charming Little Town in America

As you three readers may be aware, August 24 is a special holiday around these parts. It is the birthday of my dear friend and bookkeeper Bliz.

Happy Birthday!

Bliz and I have been friends since our hair was its natural color. We have laughed together, cried together and have even gone on some fabulous trips through various corners of the United States together. Not only that, she willingly holds my hand during take-off and landings when we travel (because I am not a good airline passenger). And--to tell you what a great friend she truly is--she patiently waited, without one complaint, while I played street chess with an Israeli-Spaniard named Levi last year when we went to New England.

In the time I have known her, Bliz has introduced me to Imagine Dragons, eye liner and amaretto sours. She keeps me laughing and offers sage advice when I am at my lowest. I have never known someone so thoughtful, patient and caring as Bliz. Ever. I honestly don't think I would have survived this accidental business without her.

Bliz, Congratulations on your recent trip around the sun. Here's to many more.

S--

Rejected

Well now, I thought we were done. I turned in the former LLC's dissolution form to the Arizona Secretary of State's office back in June. And wouldn't you know it? They sent it back with the word, "Rejected" on it. That hardly seems fair. I am done. Done with partnerships. Done with LLCs, and yet the Arizona Secretary of State's office feels otherwise.

In their pre-printed letter, they said--and I am not making this up: "The document must be signed by a member of the LLC." Frankly, I thought I might actually be qualified under their definition. In fact, I am pretty sure I have the Articles of Organization to show I was not only a member, but the Managing Member. You would think that would give me some street cred, but nope. Not with a government bureaucracy.

Today I spent 29 minutes and 42 seconds on hold to ask someone in the Arizona Secretary of State's office what exactly they mean by rejecting this dissolution. Perhaps they simply didn't understand what "dissolution" meant?

The very nice lady on the phone looked up my file. She then told me I have to check some box in the corner of this document that says I am a member of this LLC and just re-send it. I don't need to provide a photo ID. I don't need to give them a blood sample. By checking the box, they will just take my word for it. When I asked her exactly why was the box on the form to begin with, as there is some sort of verbiage that says, "By signing this document you ensure you are a member of this LLC," she didn't have an answer. No matter. As soon as I get those documents to the Arizona Secretary of State's office, we will then be done. I hope.

Speaking of Property Management

Legal Owl sent me an e-mail this morning. She has a client who is looking for a good property management company. Who could I recommend? I am wondering which one of us is supposed to charge the other $200 an hour for this information.

We Assume This Means We Are Keeping Buckaroo, Too

You may remember, this past week I wrote about the bank that called our second mortgage due and refused to work with us? Months ago they threatened all sorts of shenanigans, including a wage garnishment and selling my first born for slave labor if we didn't play by their rules. And oh yes. They would be foreclosing.

Two events happened this week that kind of threw us for a loop. First, we received a letter from some law firm in Birmingham offering to do a deed in lieu of foreclosure. All they needed was "our cooperation," but didn't elaborate. However, they are asking us to sign a deed in lieu of foreclosure. For those of you who aren't familiar with a deed in lieu, it means the bank gets the house back and we walk away with only our credit destroyed. No liens. No garnishments. No take-backs. And, I even get to keep Polly, which works for me.

Once we received the letter, we scratched our heads for an hour or so and then sent it to my Arizona lawyer for her opinion. After all, we aren't completely sure of their terms. The lawyer said if they are truly willing to do a deed in lieu, we should--which is a no-brainer for us. However, this is complete 180 from the treatment we have been getting from them for the past two years. And pardon me for saying so, I'm suspicious.

Which brings me to today. Because I have my gazillion rental homes registered on Zillow to watch, I got an e-mail alert. Apparently, this home was sold at auction a month ago. And, it was sold for about what we owed. Now, I don't know exactly how Zillow's database works, but if someone really bought that property for anywhere near what Zillow is saying they purchased it for, they were ripped off. And, I think I know a few things about pricing homes.

Additionally, and this is kind of minor under the circumstances, but we weren't notified that the foreclosure was taking place at all. In our experience (of the one home this happened with prior) we were actually told via certified letter, US Post Office letter, carrier pigeon and hologram. There was no word this time. In fact, I just checked on the Jefferson County's tax assessor site. Yep, it sold. So it looks like Polly is sticking around for sure.

Six Weeks

Mr. Ex-Partner made it six weeks. I am about to write an into letter to Mario for him. When Mr. Ex-Partner contacted me this morning, he said, "I will follow your rules."

Sweetie. These aren't my rules.

Yes, Yes He Did

Mr. Ex-Partner sent me an e-mail this morning asking for my advice.

It was early. I didn't have my reading glasses on. I only glanced at the e-mail on my phone. But the words were unmistakable, "Your assistance in helping me with this matter would be greatly appreciated."

The matter at hand, was his own doing. I already knew the ins and outs, but did not tell him so. You see, Mrs. Roebuck, who has been living at one of our homes (with Mr. Ex-Partner's blessing) was paying less-than-market rent.

Once he went solo, he wrote Mrs. Roebuck an abrupt e-mail saying something along the lines of "I expect you to cough up more money if you want to live here." Of course he didn't call her, introduce himself, ask her to explain her situation, show any amount of interest at all in why she was paying less-than-market rent (which he knew why, but still!). Nope. Six days into being my ex-partner, he pushed. I know this because it was Mrs. Roebuck who immediately contacted me. What was going on? There was an agreement in place?? Why was he doing this?

Fast forward a month. Mrs. Roebuck and Mr. Ex-Partner had another disagreement last week. Fortunately, I only heard about it second hand from Mrs. Roebuck (who apparently called him a coward for not actually picking up the phone and calling her if he has a problem, but whatever). Anyway, Mrs. Roebuck told Mr. Ex-Partner, she was moving. She would be gone by next week and she would leave the key.

When Mr. Ex-Partner contacted me this morning in a mild panic, he told me basically he was bluffing. He would be willing to let Mrs. Roebuck stay if she would just pay a teensy bit more (which he never mentioned to her this expectation). Heck! He said he would even let her stay for what she was paying now. I honestly was not sure what I could do at this point. He just lost a good tenant for a hard-to-rent home. And he didn't have to.

What I did do was tell Mr. Ex-Partner, contact Mario (he has already burned the bridge with Luigi, and there are so few reasonable property management companies in Birmingham). I offered again to send an introduction e-mail for him if he was interested. I told Mr. Ex-Partner Mario will shoot straight. He will tell the truth. And even if he doesn't hire Mario, they can at least have a conversation so Mr. Ex-Partner will know what is what (and hear it from someone other than me).

In addition--and only because he asked for my help--I told him if I make this introduction, Mario's name is "Mr. Property Management Owner" until Mr. Ex-Partner is told otherwise. I also said Mr. Ex-Partner is to mind his Ps and Qs and realize not all money is created equal, especially Yankee money. In fact, until he has some credibility, consider himself an outsider--because he is one.

If I were to wager, I would say that Mr. Ex-Partner will completely ignore the advice he asked for. And a month later we will have the same conversation again.