The Reluctant Landlord - part 4

Sometime had now passed since the last sale and rents were coming regularly. The economy had taken a downturn so I was happy to sit tight for a while. One of my tenants paid twice a year and never quite the amount he owed but he was affable enough so I kept track and left him alone.

A total of 3 tenants lived at the Birches. A single man in the cottage, an elderly widower in the downstairs flat and a younger woman upstairs. Apparently the widower was a lovely gentleman with all his marbles intact while his upstairs neighbor was much younger but missing a few. They had worked out an ideal arrangement whereby the woman cleaned and cooked and Mr Nightingale balanced her checkbook and paid her bills.

The cottage tenant had paid regularly by direct payment through his bank until suddenly payments ceased. November's payment didn't arrive and nor did December's.. My only way of contacting him was by mail: no email and no phone. By mid January, still no word so Phil was dispatched to investigate. Phil had done some odd jobs and small building projects for me in the past and not too much had surprised him to date. However, on this day, finding no one in residence, he jimmied the lock on the front door and was greeted by a flood of water pouring down the stairs. Water from a frozen pipe had been spilling out for some time it seemed. The whole downstairs was underwater and trash, furniture and even a TV was floating. The tenant was long gone and never to be heard from again. Thanks a bunch!

Another bargain sale ensued and I was rid of one more.

Rents had not changed for several years so I thought a minor increase across the board would be fair. My two Birches' occupants, I knew were on assistance from the state but one pound a month (less than $2) shouldn't break the bank. Huge mistake! Any rate increase immediately triggers an inspection. Within a couple of weeks I had received an official letter telling me that the living conditions were below par and that unless I made major repairs to the floor (it seems it was about to collapse into the cellar) the property would be condemned! Now the second time I had heard those words.

It wasn't that I was opposed to getting the work done but the logistics of a fairly large renovation and quite possibly more rot discovered once the ripping and tearing had begun, was mind spinning. I was informed that if I didn't do the work, it would be done for me and a bill presented.

While still contemplating the next move, a follow up letter arrived stating that the tenants would be relocated to a town council house and would not be returning. What luck! Maybe not such a bad mistake as I had thought. Now I had a vacant property and could sell it 'as is' plus these two nice people had been moved together into a much better situation.

Soon I found an ambitious builder, accepted his low offer and much relieved, pocketed the change.

 

Posted with Blogsy

The Reluctant Landlord - part 3

Not all the sales I made in the subsequent years were disasters although those are the ones that stick in my mind most.

There was a nice semi-detached, 3 bedroom house that I sold early on. The tenant was an office employee of my father's who was allowed to stay there with her husband for many years after it was found that she was stealing from the business. She was fired from the job but British law being what it is, the tenant cannot be asked to leave as long as rent is paid and even if it is not. Her rent was substantially below the going rate and as I raised it gradually the tenant, now widowed, began looking for alternate housing. Now I could do a few repairs and sell it unencumbered. My luck held, a buyer was found and I came out well.

Similarly, a row house I owned became vacant. Workmen were hired to upgrade the kitchen and bathroom, repair some windows and a fresh coat of paint was applied throughout. This tiny house with just enough garden for a few potatoes and without a garage or even a driveway was a hot commodity. It sold within a week. Scored again!

Then there was The Birches. That was more than one disaster. First built in the 1800's, to what must have been a well to do family, the main house sat regally on a knoll overlooking a small park adjacent to my childhood home. Around 1920, the property became a private girls' school of about 60 students. It had a winding driveway, a grass tennis court and lawns large enough for field games. My sister and I attended from age 4 - 11 under the heavy hand of two spinster ladies. Yes, the ruler came out often and three order marks equalled detention which went on your permanent record.

I remember there being three classrooms and a music room plus the living quarters for the ladies. There was third elderly spinster, Miss Brinkworth who lived in what was once the gate keeper's cottage behind the school. She owned The Birches and taught private piano lessons, in her quarters, to some of the luckless students. Most often the metronome clicked back and forth while the teacher snoozed and the student banged unmusically at the keys. I lasted a couple of terms and remain tone deaf to this day.

Much later after Miss Brinkworth's time, the aging teachers could no longer continue, the school closed and the property went up for sale. My father swooped in and our old school was turned into flats. Houses were built in the gardens, cheek to jowl, and all but the gate keeper's cottage were quickly sold.

What was left to me was a two story cottage plus 2 flats created in the connecting section to the school. All quite tiny I understand, although I never saw more than the piano lesson room. Not prime property as you will hear in my next episode.

 

Posted with Blogsy

The Reluctant Landlord - part 2

The shop that I now owned was in Nailsworth, a small market town a few miles from where I grew up. The streets were narrow and most of the houses were made of stone. This particular shop was part of a row of what was once terraced cottages in an alley only accessible on foot. The shop sold pet food, some gardening products and accessories and was about the size of a single garage.

Above it, although not directly above it but rather staggered half over the neighboring shop, was a vacant flat. I am still not used to the way the Brits sell off bits and pieces of property from the main leaving these odd shaped jigsaw puzzle parts.

I had been to this property with my father at least 15 years prior. I remembered climbing the narrow stairs to a dark and musty couple of rooms where a single man lived. I don't think there was indoor plumbing then and nothing had been done since, I was sure.

This was to be the first property to be sold. The pet food shop was not doing well and the rent was coming sporadically. The owners reluctantly decided to close up shop and at about the same time, I was approached by a woman wanting to open a flower shop and own the premises. Perfect, I thought!

My sister was helping me manage my properties at this time and in a better position to negotiate than I was. A deal was struck and I was delighted. This was going to be easy. Not so fast!

The flower lady was excited and planning her future when suddenly everything came to a grinding halt. I'm not sure who first pointed out that the buildings were definitely not plumb but in fact leaning dangerously but it was probably the local authorities. I was now visualizing the whole row of attached buildings tipping into the street with the first gust of wind.

It wasn't quite that bad but serious measures had to be taken immediately or the buildings would be condemned. This may have been the first time I heard this but as it turned out, it was not to be the last. My inheritance was shrinking fast and there was still that tax bill.

In the end, the flower lady had her shop, the buildings were stabilized and any proceeds I received were negligible. One down and 31 to go!

 

Posted with Blogsy

The Reluctant Landlord - Part 1

My father, throughout his lifetime, accumulated an impressive portfolio of property including houses, flats, building lots, shops and his most favorite, garages (individual storage units just large enough for a mini). Some of these he inherited from his mother while others were just too good a deal to pass up. In due course, these properties were passed down to my sister and me and we became landlords, although in my case, a rather reluctant one.

Now you would expect most people would be grateful for such an inheritance. My sister, lived close by and was very familiar with the properties and their tenants but I was an ocean away. Born and raised in England but having left for the USA at 18, when I thought I just about knew it all, I had little knowledge of what had suddenly landed in my lap.

Dad had the foresight to create 2 separate property companies so when the time came, one would go to me and the other to my sister. It didn't work out quite as he had planned as a fair bit of muddling went on in the 7 years between my parents' deaths. Suffice it to say, that by the time it was all sorted, my share was somewhat diminished and I had a huge tax bill.

Slad Properties was now all mine - 4 houses, 5 flats, a pet shop, 22 garages, 32 tenants and a tax bill. In England you are taxed every time you turn around so my first thought was to sell everything as quickly as possible and get out! Now, more than 10 years later, I am still trying.

Already in the real estate business here in Vermont some of that knowledge would surely help, I thought. How wrong I was! There are almost no similarities in the way real estate transactions are handled. Agents in the UK bring the buyer and seller together and then hand off to the solicitors and their job is done.To be fair, their commission percentage is a fraction of what we can expect. Neither party signs any agreement until the day of completion and at any time along the way another buyer can gazump the first by raising the bid. With a lack of a signed agreement and no fixed dates, it seems that the solicitors can move at their own pace, which in my experience is not quick. To slow the process even further snail mail only will do for documents - no electronic signatures or scanned papers.

My holdings are now down to 2 flats and 6 garages and at this time I have an offer on the garages. There is a glimmer of a light at the end of the tunnel but I know better than to get my heart rate up just yet.

Each sale has been an adventure in itself. My next few blogs will take you down that path with me as I recall the events that now can make me laugh.

 

Posted with Blogsy

House Building Journal - Part 18 and final

As much as we enjoyed this house building project, it is quite wonderful to be actually living here and appreciating all that has been created. There are still projects to be done to keep Frits occupied for quite a while but the urgency has passed. We can take our time deciding just how the pantry shelves will fit together and how the bar will look. The house is very comfortably warm and feels just right to us.

Over the holidays we entertained frequently, and plan to continue with just a little break for now. After 2 1/2 years living in 900 sq ft with almost no counter space, dinner parties were pretty much on hold. Never one to enjoy everyday cooking I had become less and less interested in even baking, but now in the new kitchen I think I may get quite creative.

The door in the far corner leads to the pantry.

The outside porch has no permanent floor yet, but once inside the front door you are on warm tiles and greeted by 'The Holsteins'.

We were quite taken by this painting by Vermont artist, Rebecca Kinkead, and so these interested cows have become a permanent fixture.

My red chair is definitely in the right spot, rocking and swiveling me to watch activity in the kitchen, the sunset or sleeping dogs.

The center column for the stairs is a good spot for the poinsettias for now, but this will change with the seasons until perhaps a sculpture or some other art piece finds it's way to us.

The Christmas tree landed in the perfect place where the lights can be seen from near and far. The chaise in the far corner has not seen much use to date but what a wonderful spot when time allows.

Our bedroom still needs some more art work but with such large windows there is plenty to view. Well, there would be if it wasn't always dark when we get up!

The walk thru closet, large on my side and less extravagant on Frits' side, leads you to the still-to-be-completed master bathroom.

The shower has a drive-thru opening for the wheelchairs, if the time comes, and the hot water comes fast and plentiful. Radiant heat in the base feels mighty good on these recently frigid days. The Japanese soaking tub will feel even better very soon.

We have been waiting for the granite corner shelf before installing the faucet. It is coming in a couple of days and then the bubbles will fill it almost to the top. Note the almost! There is no overflow on this tub so my dear husband, just as a precaution mind you, spent countless hours designing and installing this floor that naturally drains along the pebbles all the way to the shower drain. This is my tub exclusively, so it is not he who may forget that the water is running!

The winding stairs lead down to the lower level family room, two bedrooms and an almost finished bathroom. It is all sheetrocked with a first coat of paint so just trim and some finishings plus carpet are needed. My office is set up down here and also floor mats for exercise and yoga. The French doors and large windows give lots of natural light and view and I use it daily.

No rush to finish this right now. We have to have some unfinished space or it just wouldn't be right. 43 years together and always in abodes in need of completion. First a tiny 'Cubby' where even I couldn't stand up, to a school bus with no plumbing, to our first house with no heat, to our 2nd house without kitchen until our 3rd child came along and still had plywood floors in places even after we moved out, to our shell of a cabin when we moved in, in January and now what we hope to be our final home, and the best!

So it is with some regret that I end my House Building Blog. There will be other posts on new subjects as the spirit moves me but for now, it is good night and thank you for reading.

 

Posted with Blogsy

House Building Journal - Part 17

One week out from move-in day and still no appliances or plumbing were in place. The kitchen cabinets and granite counter tops had been fitted perfectly although one section of granite was not secured to allow for the stove and refrigerator to be installed first.

Quietly, Frits had been worrying about the lack of manoevering space for the fridge. Had he made the opening just too perfectly sized? Not until the carton was removed and the slate colored, French door with ice and water dispenser, lower freezered beauty had been rolled into proximity did he share his concerns. "It's not going to make it" he said with such finality that it surprised me. How could that be? Frits can always figure it out. The problem was the ice and water dispenser. We knew that the doors had to be taken off to make around the corner of the counter but the water connection had to be made while there was still room to get in behind it. Catch 22 - the doors had to be in place for the hose to reach and it now seemed that not all these conditions could not be met at the same time.

Between the two of us and many hours later we had jostled the beast into place without doors, replaced doors and squeaked it out enough for Frits to get in behind, passed tools back and forth as if we were performing surgery and finally were able to free my tall but fortunately, very slim husband and settle it into it's final resting place. May it live forever!

Time was racing on and the task ahead too great. We had to prioritize. One working bathroom, operating kitchen sink and stove, beds and a place to sit.

I knew my job - clean, arrange furniture, make up beds, unpack dishes etc and fill the refrigerator. In my dreams I was leisurely arranging all the new stuff, lining drawers and baking goodies for the arriving family. In reality I was working a good 40 hour week at real estate, baking enough granola for the wedding guest favors in the cabin and making lists of all I had to do once the starting gun went off.

Sarah, Jason and the boys were arriving on the Tuesday before the wedding. The workmen had departed that prior Friday so now it was time to go into action. Our good friends Lee and David volunteered their help showing up with their sleeves rolled ready for their assignments. Lee went to work in the kitchen, lining drawers and stowing equipment while David glued down temporary carpets in the lower level where the family would stay. The guest bathroom was now operable and quite acceptable, the family beds were made up and the toys for the grandchildren were in place. Phew, at least they would be comfortable.

Now it was time to uncover the polished floors and move in the furniture. The dust was thick so the new central vac proved its worth immediately. What a great invention that is! The dining room table and chairs, arm chairs and our bed were all stacked in the study, wrapped in cardboard and plastic, so it was with some trepidation that I unveiled them. How would they fit into the space and how would they look? Persimmon leather dining chairs??? What was I thinking? Happily I still like them.

My artist friend Tari showed up at that moment with an apple tart in hand. I wish now we had sat down on those new chairs and eaten the tart right then, but there was no time. The couch went here, no there, well perhaps back 6 inches, no forward 3. It is a sectional and very heavy, so we were getting our workout.

My rocking, swiveling, coffee drinking, wine sipping, red chair was to go in this niche I had carved out early in our design process. But no. My friends decided it would be more pleasing to the eye in an entirely different place. I humored them but later moved it. To hell with the design aspect. I'm going for comfort.

All the time, Frits was finishing the tiled backsplash so he could install the stove. Not a simple job cutting and piecing together just the right combination so once again the fit could be perfect.

We had expected to spend at least one night in our new house before receiving guests but the new mattress to go on our new and first bed frame didn't arrive until Monday afternoon. No time to make it up and there was still plumbing hanging over our heads. Our bathroom had slipped down the list of priorities leaving us without a shower or toilet, just the lavatory. One more night in the cabin it was.

The kitchen sink and the dishwasher were still being connected by Frits when I left to meet the plane the next day but dinner was prepared, the house was warm and it was looking pretty darn good.

We were ready to enjoy our children and grandchildren and everything else could wait for now. We had a wedding to attend and lots to celebrate. And that is just what we did.

 

Posted with Blogsy

House Building Journal - Part 16

I began writing this when we were just one month away from the arrival of family coming to celebrate our son's wedding. Even though we hadn't set a move-in date we were fairly confident that we would be occupying the new house in plenty of time. Well, of course that didn't happen. Now it is a month after Ian and Emily's wedding and there is so much to tell.

Fortunately the wedding was in a gorgeous location just an hour or so south of here so having the place in show condition was not necessary and not possible. We did need to sleep about a dozen people at different times over the long weekend so freeing up the cabin was a must and having enough room for the grandchildren to run around was going to be essential.

By mid August, the hardwood floors were down but still the tile had to be laid before the sanding and staining could begin.

Frits hadn't intended to lay all the tile himself but in the end he did every bit of it. Well, actually, I did seal the grout. Big deal! There were curved edges in several places and lots of transitions to wood. Time consuming and back-breaking work.

The kitchen cabinets were being built off site but until all the floors were finished, installation had to be delayed.

September 6, exactly a month from mandatory move in day, the kitchen looked like this:

A few years back I might have been panicked but you know, these days it is much easier to go with the flow. There are some real benefits to growing older, not just Medicare.

Back in June I had ordered a new couch, chairs, dining table and a bed, planning on 10 weeks of delivery time. As promised the furniture arrived on schedule. How often does that happen? We were able to pile most of it into the study except for the huge couch that had to sit, shrouded, right in the middle of everything. Not knowing if any of it was going to work in the space, I hardly dared look at it. The appliances were stacked in the garage fully crated so I couldn't even peek at them.

By the end of September, Frits' work days had extended into nights. The kitchen cabinets and counter tops were complete, the electricians were back to install outlets and lights, the painters were applying the final coats and our trusty workers, Ernie, Matt and Alan were as reliable as ever. There was still no railing around the open staircase - shudder, no appliances installed and no running water. Did I mention that Frits was the plumber as well?

The rough plumbing had been done earlier but now all the lines to the sinks, toilets, showers etc had to be run if we were to take occupancy. Most important was to finish the lower level bathroom as that would be where Sarah, Jason and the boys would be staying.

I was making mad dashes to Burlington to pick up plumbing parts as well as buying new china, pots and pans, small appliances, towel rails and on and on. Even though we had our own things in the cabin I was going to leave that equipped for guests.

Now just a week to go and it looked impossible. Would we make it? You will have to wait for the next blog to find out. I am just too exhausted remembering it!

 

Posted with Blogsy