Tag Archives: real estate

The right one…

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Knowing I wanted to be out of my current rental by the time this year’s lease expired, I started driving around the county and nosing through open houses a few months ago. I was even more or less settled on the areas and type of house I wanted to end up with. I wanted more than an acre, something mid-century, and well outside town limits. For the record, December and January are probably not a great time to be out poking around looking at houses – there just isn’t that much of a supply on the market and no sane person wants to move in the middle of winter. Even so there were some contenders, but nothing that screamed “buy me now.” I bided Woodholmmy time, assuming that more inventory would arrive on the market with warmer weather. I even toyed with the idea of buying a big lot and then building a small house to suit, before realizing that I house built to my own crackpot specs would be damned near impossible to sell to anyone else.

The funny thing is I thought I knew exactly what I wanted. I’d only been working with my realtor a week when she casually mentioned that I should look at a house down on Elk Neck. It was an eyebrow raiser. Sure the pictures looked nice enough, but the house barely ticked off half of the things on my list. It was one story, on slightly less than an acre, and (terror of terrors) ruled by the covenants and restrictions of a very active home owners association. In fact I almost passed on even looking at it for those reasons until curiosity got the better of me. A house in that neighborhood rarely stays on the market long – and this one had been on the market for almost eight months and $100,000 in price reductions. Honestly, I assumed it was a murder house, or infested with mold, or possibly built on some kind of ancient Indian burial ground.

After the first showing, we were both utterly confused by why this house was still on the market. It was only during my second pass through the master bathroom that it occurred to me – uh, why isn’t there a shower in here? So there it was. The reason the typical yuppie buyers in that neighborhood had been taking a pass on what was otherwise a tremendous home. I proclaimed the design choice “very weird,” and moved on.

Three hours later the seller’s agent called my realtor using phrases like “extremely motivated,” “willing to negotiate,” and “credit for bathroom renovation.”

That conversation let to three days of back and forth discussion, deep research on bathroom renovation costs, another showing, and by the end of the week an offer I was sure would test the depth of the seller’s motivation to be finished with the property and move on with his life. There was a counter offer, a counter counter offer, and finally agreement of nearly all the substantive terms I asked for. I’m still a little shocked they agreed to all the concessions written into the contract.

It wasn’t the house I started out looking for a few months ago, but assuming it passes through the gates of inspection and financing it’s the right one.

Trip Report – House Hunting Day #2

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Following hot on the heels of this weekend’s formal kickoff of House Hunt 2015, this afternoon saw another dash around the county to look at three more houses. I shall call them The House Next Door, The Revenge of the Tub, and the House Not Appearing in this Post.

The House Next Door isn’t actually next door. It’s at least 500 yards away on the other side of the street. Weighing in at 4 beds and 2 baths, this very well put together Cape Cod style home offered a touch over an acre, a two car garage, a large screened porch, and more storage than three of me could use. Aside from questioning whether one of the bedrooms really counted, it was a nice enough place. The house was solid. The kind of thing you’d imagine seeing if you told someone to draw a picture of a house. Even at an acre, the lot felt a bit crowded to the left and right. It’ll be a nice place for someone, but I don’t think it’s my huckleberry.

Sigh. The Revenge of the Tub. It’s beautiful. The kitchen is twice as big as my first apartment and is spot on in fit and finish. The whole house was simply beautiful, ticking off everything on my want list except for a back yard fence. It was perfection, right down to being structurally overbuilt by any reasonable standard. I’m pretty sure the current owner had visions of a basement bunker when he shored up the basement. With a good solid door you could hold off the zombie apocalypse in that place. The problem is, that like one of Day 1’s contestants, the master bath just has a giant tub situated beneath a bank of windows. If a guy wants a morning shower he’s got to schlep down the hall to the guest bath. It just seems ridiculous given the amount of money you’re spending and the fact that there’s a bathroom right there off the master. Then the issue of the Home Owner’s Association – who exercise supreme executive authority over everything right down to the location of exterior lights to the height of the fence you’re allowed to install. My innate western Maryland hillbilly resentment of anyone who wants to tell me what to do on my own property is maybe a bigger factor here than the inconvenience of going down the hall as part of the morning routine. Even with those reservations, the place is a serious contender.

The House Not Appearing in this Post is aptly named because the lock didn’t work so we weren’t able to do much more than eyeball the outside and peep through the windows. It’s probably for the best. No matter how well put together it was going to have a hard time standing up to the place we just left.

I’m sure there will be more to follow later in the week.

Trip Report – House Hunting Day #1

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Saturday was House Hunting trip #1. There locations were on the menu – I’ve affectionally named these properties The Tub, Hill Climb, and Suicide Exit, respectively.

The Tub was a nice enough Cape Cod with 2 and 2. Needed some paint, some stain on the deck, and someone who knew something about yard work to take the place with a firm hand. I could have made it work well enough. The emphasis there was on “could.” Then there was the issue of the namesake “tub” in the upstairs bathroom – a tub that I can only think was ordered using “how big a jetted tub can we squeeze up the steps” as a planning factor. Not that I’m opposed to large jetted tubs. I’m just opposed to them when all other “conveniences” of the privy are relegated to afterthoughts and I’d need to trek downstairs and to the other side of the house every morning just to find a shower. Pass.

Hill Climb looked promising… on the map. I believe it was labeled as “on a bluff overlooking a creek.” What the description left out was that you’d have to have 4 wheel drive and willingness to follow a 30% grade dirt track to reach the house. Probably OK in the summer, but anything worse than a good frost would leave you stranded indefinitely. Pass.

Suicide Exit. Ah, the most alluring of the three potentials I wandered through yesterday. Curb appeal to spare, privacy, and a long stretch of creek in the back that eventually turns into the Elk River. It was exceptional – the kind of place I would buy if I were settling in to look for a place to fade into the twilight. Sadly, the musty smell of leeching water in the basement and damned near killing myself trying to back out of a blind driveway onto a winding country road are not insignificant or inexpensive issues to overcome. It’s a shame, really, because it was the kind of quirky post-war house I really like. For now I’m keeping it on the list because I’d really like to see the place when spring comes to Ceciltucky. For now, though, it’s a pass.

So ends the first day of house hunting. I’ll try to hit three more tomorrow afternoon if the light holds out.

In case you’re wondering, yes there are pictures, but I’m not feeling up to stripping out the geotagging information, so for the time being you’ll be forced to rely on your imaginations. It’ll be good for you. It’s how we use to do things in the olden days.

The search is on…

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This little project to find a new and improved Casa de Jeff is beginning to get serious. How you know it’s getting serious is I’m altering the long-established Saturday routine in order to fit in meeting with a realtor and checking out a few potential houses. Between now and then I supposed I’ll have to firm up my list of must have options and the list of things I’m willing to trade away. Right now the must have list is pretty short – 1+ acre, 3 bed, 2 bath, and not in needing a gut-to-the-studs renovation. The willing to trade list includes central air, garage, and basically everything else. I like to think I won’t be picky or overly demanding, but I think we all know that’s a pipe dream.

Judging from the few places I’ve driven past to eyeball in the last few weeks, I’m slowly coming to terms with the fact that the dollar doesn’t stretch as far here in the Baltimore/Philly exerbs as it did in West Tennessee. I’m doing my best to adjust my expectations on fit and finish accordingly… on the bright side for you readers, very soon you’re going to be able to play along with my little game of taking pictures inside other people’s homes and wondering what the hell they were thinking with their design and decorator choices. That’s always a treat.

In the meantime, if I seem to get in too much of a rush, feel free to remind me that there is absolutely no timeline associated with reaching mission complete on this project. The plan is mostly to keep plugging away at it and hope I know it when I see it.

Another helpful tip from Uncle Jeff…

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I’m sure there are harder things than closing on a house sale from 900 miles away, but just now, in the middle of it, I’d be hard pressed to think of what those harder things might be. Everything that needs signed hurtles across the country via FedEx overnight, questions always take three days to answer, and you’re never entirely sure if what people say they’re doing is what’s getting done. It’s infuriating. It’s like trying to do business by telegram. Sure, it works in theory, but that doesn’t mean it’s a good idea.

At this point, I’m utterly convinced I would have ended this process a more sane human being if I had shackled a briefcase full of money to by wrist, flown to Memphis, dumped it on the closing table, signed my name in blood, and then flown back to Maryland for a good night’s sleep. I’m not kidding. Not even a little bit.

I’m beyond caring about costs. I just want this master class in asshattery to be over and done with. So there’s tonight’s helpful tip from your kindly Uncle Jeff – if you’re planning on engaging in any cross-continental real estate transactions, don’t. Just don’t. Take a day and a bucket full of cash and go handle things yourself. By the time it’s over maybe you’ll emerge with at least some of your sanity left.

Be nice or I’ll blog about you…

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Among my many faults is the desire for people in general to act with some semblance of urgency in getting things done. I’m not saying that everything should be a crisis, but if I say I’m going to call you later this afternoon or that I’ll send you some paperwork in a few hours, you can be damned skippy that it’s going to get done before the sun goes down on the day. So far in the housing search I have run into two real estate related professionals who apparently have enough business that they don’t need to call back even after spending a fair amount of initial time talking. I’m not asking for much here, just the the return call even if that’s to say you’re not interested in the work. Otherwise, there’s a fair chance I’m going to make a note of your name and blog about your bad business practices at some point in the future when I figure out what key words are going to drive that post to Google’s #1 landing page when someone goes looking for your business’ name. Consider this fair warning as the search continues.

Full disclosure…

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In the interest of full disclosure, I should admit that finding a virtually original craftsman house in Memphis is a little like looking for a surrender in the French national archives… they’re so thick you can’t help but trip over them. Now that I’ve had a few days to restore my objectivity, I can say with relative certainty that I’m not going to rush out next week and make an offer on a house that happens to be 900 miles from where I actually live. I’m making great strides in curbing my tendencies towards impulse buying.

Now, don’t get me wrong, this place is absolutely beautiful. The garage needs rebuilt, a back deck that is completely out of character needs to be pulled off, and there is a profound need to install a central air system. Though I can’t be sure, I suspect that the electrical system would probably need to be completely rewired to provide the sort of juice I would require. It’s not an insignificant amount of work to a house that is otherwise in grand condition. The thought of pulling down a ceiling and expanding a master suite into the dormered attic has already hit me as well. A rough order of magnitude on the work I would want to do approaches another $50K on top of the purchase price and as much as I like to think I’m qualified to do everything, I know the reality is different.

Lots of things to consider… not the least of which is whether I want to roll the dice on the chance of my actually moving down there in the next six months. A cursory search tells me that supply currently outstrips demand, but can I overcome love at first sight?