St. Joseph: Real Estate Baron

I now have an accepted offer on my house. Wahoo! The buyers are a childless couple who are both employed (or DINKS—double income no kids), no mobile home or other houselike structure to sell, and apparently have the earnest $$$. They even OFFERED $1600 in earnest money instead of the more typical $1000. (Or $500 like the trailer park people.) The agreed-upon price is only $170K—I was a little disappointed that it didn't hit my projected low of $172K. But close enough. And they're willing to close on 6/15. So it's all good.

I won't be digging up St. Joe until after the close, but he will definitely assume a place of honor on the mantelpiece in the Maple Bluff House. I suppose I should give Jeff and Jodi some credit too. I just phoned Jeff and suggested that perhaps they should start their own statue cottage industry and provide their clients with Jeff and Jodi action figures that, like the St. Joseph statues, can be buried upside down in yards for real estates sales success, then prominently displayed in a place of honor in the new home. Good advertising. They could even multi-task as wedding cake toppers.

Jeff said he would pass the idea on to Jodi. I'd love to be a fly on that wall.

Homelessness Has Its Benefits

In the ongoing house saga... the folks never responded to the counter offer. They had offered $500 ernest money and a 7/1 close. We had countered with $1000 earnest money and 6/15 close. When Jeff called their realtor to see what was going on, she said they couldn't come up with $1K. Good lord! I'm a paycheck-to-paycheck chick myself, but when shopping for a house.... Hmmmm.... Wouldn't one plan ahead and have a LITTLE SOMETHING set aside? They also didn't think they could sell their mobile home by 6/15. Mobile homes... okay, let's not even go there.

Last Sunday Jeff was kidding me about "maybe you should bury a St. Joseph statue". Huh? He said one of his neighbors had his house listed for 5 months, and it didn't sell. His grandma told him to bury a St. Joseph statue upside down in the back yard and facing the house. He did, and the house had an offer (which ultimately closed) in 5 days. Hey, I'm not above it. I said something about it to Carrie when she called me on Mother's Day, and she had actually heard of it. Wednesday I started surfing the 'Net, and OMG! Look at this! http://www.google.com/search?hl=en&q=St.+joseph+statue&btnG=Google+Search

It's a freakin' INDUSTRY! I went to Church Supply (I prefer to call it Church Depot) Wednesday and got my very own, and by that evening he was buried by the For Sale Sign. And believe you me, I've been sayin' the prayer to St. Joe daily if not hourly. Stay tuned....

St. Joe didn't bring me an overnight accepted offer, but he did bring my "new maybe-after-he-gets-divorced boyfriend" this morning. The husband part of the divorcing duo who, after changing their collective mind once and are now back on track to sell me their house, stopped by. It was like a replay of Tuesday morning when the wife part of the DD came by... I was getting ready for work and attired in my leopard-print bathrobe. The doorbell rang. And there on my doorstep was the man whose soon-to-be-ex-wife had indicated only two days before what a great catch he could be. I had him come in, and he very kindly apologized for putting me through so much on Monday when they thought they didn't want to sell... I told him not to worry about it—it WAS distressing and a little disappointing. But with all the other weird stuff that had happened with my house, when Jeff called me about the circumstances of their not wanting to sell, it was almost like some repeating punchline. As I described this, we had a nice laugh, and he said he was glad it hadn't been a completely horrible time for me.

I should start a pool on who will stop by next—their children? Their divorce attorney? Can this get any weirder?

Climate Shift

This real estate transaction has become like Texas Panhandle weather—if you don't like it, just wait a moment and it will change. Yesterday morning as I was getting ready for work (running late and still hadn't even vacuumed to make the house look unlived in for the afternoon showing), the wife part of the sellers/divorcing duo (quick recap of Monday's post: the selling couple decided they didn't want to sell me their house after all because they preferred to get a divorce and have Mr. keep the family homestead) came by my house to apologize for any inconvenience and say that they're going through with the sale of the Maple Bluff house. She ended up chatting for about 30 minutes, breast-fed her baby in my kitchen, and by the time she left was offering to introduce me to the MB neighbors and give me flexibility on the closing date. She also indicated that her soon-to-be-ex-husband might not be a bad catch.

She didn't just say, "Take my husband... please." She was referring to his sterling qualities, and I jumped in to add, "And SOON newly single!" implying personal opportunity. I waved my hands in that "I'm kidding" way, to which she responded not to count it out since he felt a bond with me when we met as I was first viewing their house. Later she marketed him further with, "And he's a very handy guy." So handing him off like a baton in some relay wasn't explicit, but more implied. I think it could have some major benefits—he gets to maintain an interest in the family homestead. And I get... well... who knows? I'm sure I could make a list.

Does he really need to have a say in it, or is it enough that his almost ex- and I think it's a good idea? I suppose it would be the decent thing to do to let them actually transact the divorce before making my to-do list for him. Plus right now I'm seeing Andy the Cutest Boy in the Whole World—39, new Hasher, fun to run, bike & swim, etc with.

The offer finally made on my house was written by a realtor who's an idiot, but the main points were $168K, close 7/1, contingency on the buyers selling their mobile home (oh, don't you know). We countered w/$173K, close 6/15. No response yet, and they were supposed to respond by last night. Sigh...

After a new drama introducing each of the past two days, today seems so pale. But maybe that's okay. I woke up at about 4:00 this morning barraged by the sights and sounds of lightning, thunder, and heavy rains. I love thunderstorms, but felt compelled to send up a prayer of, "God, I know you've been having your twisted fun with me up to now on this house thing. But please don't be a total Jerk and have lightning hit 4606 Dakota. I know it would make a good story, but I simply don't want to deal with it." So far, so good.

Cracking the Real Estate Code

As mentioned in a previous post, my house is for sale, and I have an accepted offer on a house in Maple Bluff contingent on the sale of my house. Usually the selling and purchasing of homes is a fairly straightforward matter, with only the occasional knot to work out. My experience has not worked that way. There is something very odd going on with this entire transaction. My realtors have been utterly baffled that in this hot market my house hasn't sold in the past 3 weeks. Houses that are far tackier (believe it or not) are getting accepted offers on the first day of listing. Particularly after ripping up the crappy carpet to display nice hardwood floors, and painting after removing the dark paneling, mine's stylin'. The realtors who've shown it are giving Jeff, my realtor, the thumbs up and no negative feedback. And I've had an average of more than one showing a day. But no sale.

The odd "this deal is snakebit" sensation continued Saturday when Jeff was at my house to let the dogs out for a showing, and as the buying agent and his clients went in, they were ever so impressed when the door handle fell off. And Sunday for another showing, a Rottweiler charged the potential buyers, as the punk who lives across the street with his parents was screaming at the beast, "Get your fucking ass back here!" (Fortunately the beast turned around, doing no harm.) Welcome to the neighborhood.

This morning Jeff called to tell me that a realtor had called to say she would be faxing in an offer on my house. Hurrah! At last. Then 30 minutes later Jeff called to say that the owners of the Maple Bluff house decided last night to get divorced, and the dude part of the couple wants to keep the house because it's been in his family since it was built 50 years ago. So he's considering his options such as writing an offer that would bump me unless I remove the contingency of selling my house, or possibly offering me cash to politely withdraw. Since the trust fund hasn't come in yet, my position on fighting him for the house would be tenuous, so I'm inclined to take the money and run. In the meantime, Jeff's checking options with his real estate attorney. At this moment it's all theory—I've seen no offer on my house, no generous offers of cash to withdraw from the Maple Bluff deal, no... nothing.

More to be revealed....

Wild Ride

It hasn't been exactly a dull beginning to the year. Carrie got married in Austin, I changed jobs just beating the layoff axe, and I organized a costumed running event that inadvertently got international press coverage. Not bad for the first four months of 2005. Maybe those events triggered the need for more and better adrenaline fixes. Or maybe it's just One of Those Years. Whatever the case, the wild ride continues like a bucking bronco.

I was considering making some major improvements to my house (yeah, yeah, like cleaning it). But I quickly realized that if I sank any money into it at all, the location would not support a commensurate increase in real estate value; and my bedroom would still be too small. Suddenly selling my house and buying one more to my liking seemed like a stellar idea. Within 3 weeks, I had accomplished all tasks large and small I'd been meaning to do for the past 3 years.

The fake wood paneling darkening the hall and living room came down, followed by major spackling and sanding due to the panelers' generous and capricious use of finishing nails. I hired Keith-the-all-around-guy to paint the newly unpaneled walls and my Granny-Smith-apple green office a neutral cream color. I spent hours pulling up ugly carpet dating back to the Johnson administration, its rotting padding, and what seemed like thousands of staples and tacks to reveal the formerly shrouded red oak hardwood floors. Over the three weeks I accomplished these unvelings, every night I went to bed more stiff and sore than when I was training for Ironman. Not to mention the pain of the Home Depot $100 minimum every time I crossed their threshold. To paraphrase my dad's statement about aging, "Home improvement ain't fer sissies."

I cleaned and decluttered. I took over 20 garbage bags of donations to various charities, unloaded some "prizes" on friends, and over-populated the curb for every Wednesday's trash pickup. The only word that adequately describes what occurred with my living space is "transformation".

I had maybe 15 minutes to bask in the glow of my accomplishments before I was doubled over with real estate fear. One moment I was tied in knots over "What if my house sells, and I don't have any place to live?", then quickly teeter-tottered over to "What if my house doesn't sell, and I can't move into some fabulous new place?" My husband-and-wife team realtors, Jeff Kramer and Jodi Pahs, don't seem to be particularly religious; but nevertheless, I think they're contenders for canonization. My incessant calls, emails, whining, and fears... they have calmly and kindly fielded all of them, never once saying what any mortal would in such circumstances, "Shut up, ya damned baby!" No. Even over the phone, I can feel the hugs, the shoulder pats, and words that translate to "There, there, it will be alright." Besides offering a comforting presence, they also exhibit knowledge, intelligence, and the work ethics of Clydesdales. Who could ask for more?

So now... I found my house. I made an offer that was accepted on a house in The Village of Maple Bluff. Woo-woo... Maple Bluff is just a couple miles from my house and even the same Madison ZIP code. HOWEVER... it is one of the ritzier areas of Madison, and just living in MB will give me limited MB Country Club privileges. I'm not sure HOW limited yet, but I know it includes some golf, tennis & pool privileges. This is THE textbook real estate score—the tiniest house in the good location (but still more finished space than mine, along with a big bedroom and walk-in closet). So the real estate heebie jeebies are now confined to the single fear of getting bumped on this fabulous place if my house doesn't move pretty quickly here.

I'm having to live in an unnaturally clean environment so my house can be shown on a moment's notice. Daily vacuuming, dusting, and dish-washing have become the standard. I can't wait until these become regularly scheduled monthly events once again.

To add to the fun, Sunday morning I had an epiphany about doing a half-ironman distance triathlon in July. I suppose with the carpet and paneling demolition duathlon over, I needed something with which to maintain pain continuity. The training has begun. More to be revealed...