The Husband, Realtor F. and I take a field trip to see the two short sale fixer-uppers I looked at on Sunday. The first stop, at the Albany house, does not go well. They agree that the block is lovely, that the top floor needs mostly cosmetic work - but once we head down to the lower floor, foreheads start furrowing. F. heads into a part of the basement I did not go into over the weekend, starts pointing out jerry-rigged wiring, plumbing, and ducts wrapped in asbestos. The place is clearly a disaster area. She is getting progressively angrier, and when I ask why, she whips out the financial report on the sellers' mortgages. They bought the place in 1999, had just over $160K mortgage; took a second in 2004, then refinanced every six months on both the first and second, up to over $500K by 2007. F. fumes, "They sucked this nice little house dry, and didn't put a dime of it into upkeep or repair." We flee outside, stand in the cool breeze, strategize. They are asking $500K, the Husband theorizes, but if we offer much less? F. thinks they will get at least $450K (which is what the selling agent told me on Sunday), and it needs over $100K to make it livable. And these are not things we can DIY. We walk away.
The other fixer-upper, in El Cerrito, appeals to the Husband instantly - he loves the walkway entrance, with the lower patio. We are startled when the front door opens - one of the tenants, a nice older woman, tells us that she is expecting us, and to look around as much as we like. She heads back into the living room, sits mending a pair of blue jeans, with jazz playing in the background. We still feel like intruders, stand in the living room for only a minute so the Husband and F. can catch the view, and then move on. The Husband gets more excited as we look at the bedrooms and baths; the windows need replacing, but the lack of cracks and water damage is cheering. We have become cynical, clearly. We head down to Catland, F. notes a downward slope in the floor, and is not horrified by the unpermitted bathroom. One of the cat tenants, a little calico, comes out to meet us. We pet her, then tell her we're headed out the back, and she is not allowed outside, as the sign clearly states.
The yard is unkempt, dominated by an enormous, lovely redwood - if we wanted to grow anything else here, the redwood would have to go, but who wants to cut down a beautiful tree? F. heads around the front, and finds the door under the house. All kinds of intriguing things down there. The space under the unpermitted bathroom is dug out - were they getting ready to pour cement? Don't you usually build the foundation first? Work has been done on the foundation in other places, and a platform that runs the width of the house has been built, with shelves and wood stored in other places. Did someone have a workshop down here? Is that PVC pipe connected to copper pipe?? Many, many questions to be answered. F. will call the selling agent and see if there are reports, but the Husband says without hesitation that he wants to make an offer on this house.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Short Sales R Us
The Husband had to work, so I'm on my own for open houses. I have a list of five houses to see in two hours; Richmond, El Cerrito, and Albany. And it's hot out. I fill up the water bottle, roll down the windows, and head out.
I am immediately sidetracked by an open house sign just a block away, I follow the sign bread crumbs to a place tucked away in a cul-de-sac in EC. The house looks 50s era, not bad on the outside. There is no agent immediately apparent when I walk in, so I call out - he's sitting reading a book in the living room. He tells me right away that it is a short sale, and he is covering this open house for a friend. The living room has big old aluminum windows that frame a view of the bay; the three bedrooms and bathrooms upstairs aren't too bad, just need the floors refinished and a coat of paint. I head downstairs, and the door to the outdoors has a sign that tells me not to let the cats out. The bedrooms on either side make it clear the cats have not been out a great deal. And perhaps they do not have a litter box. Stains, scratches, and an unmistakeable smell. But the rooms are big, and of course, an unfinished, unpermitted bathroom. I come back upstairs, and stop in the kitchen - an ancient oven from the seventies, a rusty refrigerator - and a ceiling with a swirly gray pattern that puzzles me. Then I figure out they had a kitchen fire, and the swirls are where they tried to clean the soot off the ceiling. Asking price: $469K.
Second stop is in the Richmond hills, a very sweet little house, just over 900 sq ft, but a double garage, which makes the house look a bit lopsided. Nice yard, but a peek into the storage area off the garage shows a huge crack in the retaining wall. The structural engineer's report says it must be replaced, but only to the tune of $27K. $15K pest report, and it needs the sewer lateral. The bathroom is so itty-bitty that there's no way both the Husband and I could stand in it at the same time. Asking price: $299K.
Back down the hill to the flats of El Cerrito. Another nicely maintained house, but even teenier at 800 sq ft. They've kindly done all the pest repair and the sewer lateral. There's a covered, walled patio stuck on the back - just wood walls and ceiling and plexiglass windows, cement floor. A real addition would have been nicer. The agent offers me cold lemonade, and I am tempted. But neither bedroom could fit a king bed, so where would the two of us and our small dogs sleep?? I say no to the lemonade and to the house. Asking price: $449K
I head over to Albany for the next one. The block is lovely, well-cared for little houses, near Solano Avenue. The house is not lovely or well-cared for, for many years. Paint and refinished floors could do a lot; stripping the western-themed paper from the kitchen would help. The downstairs is huge, but cheaply done walls and linoleum, and the by-now standard unpermitted bathroom. I would like to line up everyone who does unpermitted work and slap them silly. I chat with the agent standing outside in the shade. It's another short sale, scheduled to go into foreclosure in November if they can't come to agreement. This house needs love, but not sure the Husband would go for such a fixer-upper. Asking price: $500K.
Last house of the day is on the other side of Solano, and very pretty on the outside. Tiny rooms upstairs, though the closets are nice-sized. They've finished the basement, two rooms bigger than anything above, and a (Praise the Lord!) fully-permitted bathroom. Absolutely no flow to the place, The backyard is half cement, half taken up by three enormous palm trees. The pest report is a jaw-dropping $50K. I walk around the outside, and see that the chimney has cracks where it meets the house, the porch has cracks where it meets the house, and there is a crack big enough to stick my pinkie in along the side of the house. Can you say can of worms? Asking price: $449K.
I'm exhausted by the time I get home, and sweaty. Might have to have the Husband and F. look at the two fixer-uppers, just to tell me that I'm crazy.
I am immediately sidetracked by an open house sign just a block away, I follow the sign bread crumbs to a place tucked away in a cul-de-sac in EC. The house looks 50s era, not bad on the outside. There is no agent immediately apparent when I walk in, so I call out - he's sitting reading a book in the living room. He tells me right away that it is a short sale, and he is covering this open house for a friend. The living room has big old aluminum windows that frame a view of the bay; the three bedrooms and bathrooms upstairs aren't too bad, just need the floors refinished and a coat of paint. I head downstairs, and the door to the outdoors has a sign that tells me not to let the cats out. The bedrooms on either side make it clear the cats have not been out a great deal. And perhaps they do not have a litter box. Stains, scratches, and an unmistakeable smell. But the rooms are big, and of course, an unfinished, unpermitted bathroom. I come back upstairs, and stop in the kitchen - an ancient oven from the seventies, a rusty refrigerator - and a ceiling with a swirly gray pattern that puzzles me. Then I figure out they had a kitchen fire, and the swirls are where they tried to clean the soot off the ceiling. Asking price: $469K.
Second stop is in the Richmond hills, a very sweet little house, just over 900 sq ft, but a double garage, which makes the house look a bit lopsided. Nice yard, but a peek into the storage area off the garage shows a huge crack in the retaining wall. The structural engineer's report says it must be replaced, but only to the tune of $27K. $15K pest report, and it needs the sewer lateral. The bathroom is so itty-bitty that there's no way both the Husband and I could stand in it at the same time. Asking price: $299K.
Back down the hill to the flats of El Cerrito. Another nicely maintained house, but even teenier at 800 sq ft. They've kindly done all the pest repair and the sewer lateral. There's a covered, walled patio stuck on the back - just wood walls and ceiling and plexiglass windows, cement floor. A real addition would have been nicer. The agent offers me cold lemonade, and I am tempted. But neither bedroom could fit a king bed, so where would the two of us and our small dogs sleep?? I say no to the lemonade and to the house. Asking price: $449K
I head over to Albany for the next one. The block is lovely, well-cared for little houses, near Solano Avenue. The house is not lovely or well-cared for, for many years. Paint and refinished floors could do a lot; stripping the western-themed paper from the kitchen would help. The downstairs is huge, but cheaply done walls and linoleum, and the by-now standard unpermitted bathroom. I would like to line up everyone who does unpermitted work and slap them silly. I chat with the agent standing outside in the shade. It's another short sale, scheduled to go into foreclosure in November if they can't come to agreement. This house needs love, but not sure the Husband would go for such a fixer-upper. Asking price: $500K.
Last house of the day is on the other side of Solano, and very pretty on the outside. Tiny rooms upstairs, though the closets are nice-sized. They've finished the basement, two rooms bigger than anything above, and a (Praise the Lord!) fully-permitted bathroom. Absolutely no flow to the place, The backyard is half cement, half taken up by three enormous palm trees. The pest report is a jaw-dropping $50K. I walk around the outside, and see that the chimney has cracks where it meets the house, the porch has cracks where it meets the house, and there is a crack big enough to stick my pinkie in along the side of the house. Can you say can of worms? Asking price: $449K.
I'm exhausted by the time I get home, and sweaty. Might have to have the Husband and F. look at the two fixer-uppers, just to tell me that I'm crazy.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Battling to Stay Hopeful
A whirlwind weekend. We got inspection and pest reports on the Pink House, realtor F. asked the other agent when offers were due; he responded, "First come, first serve." The reports were not bad - small electrical and plumbing updates - so we decided to make an offer on Monday 9/21. Then I headed off to Portland to see friends.
Got a call from F. on Saturday night - the other realtor had called, and they had received an offer that demanded a response by Sunday evening. If we were interested, we needed to move now. A flurry of phone calls between me and the Husband, me and F., the Husband and F. We decided to jump. The asking price was $479K, but F. had done the comparisons, and nothing in that area was going that high, especially with an old kitchen and bath. We settled on an offer of $465K (gulp).
F. was a warrior, blazed through paperwork, and delivered our offer to the other agent's doorstep on Sunday afternoon. Back in Portland, friends were already congratulating me, although I warned them it was too soon. We stopped into Powell's City of Books, and I browsed the home improvement section, trying to show restraint by only writing down titles, not actually purchasing the books. Trying very hard not to count my chickens, but bought a copy of This Old House magazine at the Portland airport, and daydreamed about repainting the Pink House the whole flight home.
Sunday night, and the Husband and I were settled into the couch with the pooches, watching the Emmys (Neil Patrick Harris rocks) when the phone rang. It was F. - she'd already heard from the other agent, and we did not get the house. The other bidder made an offer slightly over the asking price, no closing costs back, and wrote in "As Is," which meant either that they did not intend to do their own inspection, or if they did and found something wrong, it would not change the offer. F. said outright, "That's crazy, and I will never let you do that."
Making an offer near $500K without an inspection and bearing all the risk? Sounds like complete insanity to us. But if people are so desperate that they will take these terrible risks, how will we have a successful offer?
I am dejected. Fourth offer down, how many more to go?
Got a call from F. on Saturday night - the other realtor had called, and they had received an offer that demanded a response by Sunday evening. If we were interested, we needed to move now. A flurry of phone calls between me and the Husband, me and F., the Husband and F. We decided to jump. The asking price was $479K, but F. had done the comparisons, and nothing in that area was going that high, especially with an old kitchen and bath. We settled on an offer of $465K (gulp).
F. was a warrior, blazed through paperwork, and delivered our offer to the other agent's doorstep on Sunday afternoon. Back in Portland, friends were already congratulating me, although I warned them it was too soon. We stopped into Powell's City of Books, and I browsed the home improvement section, trying to show restraint by only writing down titles, not actually purchasing the books. Trying very hard not to count my chickens, but bought a copy of This Old House magazine at the Portland airport, and daydreamed about repainting the Pink House the whole flight home.
Sunday night, and the Husband and I were settled into the couch with the pooches, watching the Emmys (Neil Patrick Harris rocks) when the phone rang. It was F. - she'd already heard from the other agent, and we did not get the house. The other bidder made an offer slightly over the asking price, no closing costs back, and wrote in "As Is," which meant either that they did not intend to do their own inspection, or if they did and found something wrong, it would not change the offer. F. said outright, "That's crazy, and I will never let you do that."
Making an offer near $500K without an inspection and bearing all the risk? Sounds like complete insanity to us. But if people are so desperate that they will take these terrible risks, how will we have a successful offer?
I am dejected. Fourth offer down, how many more to go?
Friday, September 18, 2009
Little Pink Houses
We went Tuesday night after work to see two houses with F. One was up in the Richmond Hills, and was as pristine as advertised. Fresh paint, new windows, refinished oak floors. Two wall heaters, which cold-blooded me shivered at - but everything very nicely done on the inside. Some puzzling features of the outside included a yard entirely covered in gravel, with visible sump pumps and all kinds of drainage pipes snaking everywhere. (Underground lake?) Another downer for me - a huge shed taking up half the backyard, finished as an office - but not legal, since there was no foundation. Sigh. Why don't people take the time and money to do things right? Six kinds of fruit trees, but all crowded together in the front yard - as soon as they establish any size they will be crowding each other out. A horrible house, like something out of Deliverance, right next door, including multiple cars in need of major repair dumped in the driveway. But the Husband loves the newness of the indoors, and the size - he drools at the big 1400+ square footage, the shed, the double garage. He would never have to throw anything away, ever. Asking price: $449K.
The second house appeals to me much more - up on a little hill in the Annex. Built in the 40s, and clearly one couple's home for many years. Nice size (1200 square feet), with character. The kitchen and bathroom need to be completely redone, and at some point the linen closet was removed to bring the washer and dryer upstairs. The yard is large and lovely, the third bedroom over the garage has an abundance of closet space that makes the Husband salivate. Did I mention the pinkness? Pink carpet, pink walls, pink silk valances over pink sheers in the windows all through the living and dining rooms. But F. kneels in her cute sundress and yanks up the floor heating register, pulls back the pink carpet and sees nice wood floors underneath. We could make this a lovely home, I am convinced. Asking price is too much: $479K.
The Husband and I spend several minutes sitting in the pinkness, debating this house over the one in the Hills. He loves new, I love old - he wants all the work done, and I want to do some of it myself. As we're walking out, we look out the front window, and the Husband says, "Is that Sutro Tower?" It is. A view. I might change his mind after all.
The second house appeals to me much more - up on a little hill in the Annex. Built in the 40s, and clearly one couple's home for many years. Nice size (1200 square feet), with character. The kitchen and bathroom need to be completely redone, and at some point the linen closet was removed to bring the washer and dryer upstairs. The yard is large and lovely, the third bedroom over the garage has an abundance of closet space that makes the Husband salivate. Did I mention the pinkness? Pink carpet, pink walls, pink silk valances over pink sheers in the windows all through the living and dining rooms. But F. kneels in her cute sundress and yanks up the floor heating register, pulls back the pink carpet and sees nice wood floors underneath. We could make this a lovely home, I am convinced. Asking price is too much: $479K.
The Husband and I spend several minutes sitting in the pinkness, debating this house over the one in the Hills. He loves new, I love old - he wants all the work done, and I want to do some of it myself. As we're walking out, we look out the front window, and the Husband says, "Is that Sutro Tower?" It is. A view. I might change his mind after all.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Slides Are A Bad Thing
F. called on the Husband's dream house, and discovered that there were already five offers, and the bank was negotiating on several, expected to accept an offer that day. We gotta figure out how to find out about these properties sooner - we jumped on it as soon as it came out on the MLS, but somehow that wasn't soon enough.
Once again into the breach of open house Sunday. We stayed in El Cerrito, looked at a place halfway up the hills, on the southern side of town. Spotlessly clean, big (over 1300 square feet), three bedrooms and two baths, a beautiful view of the Bay. Kitchen and bathrooms need updating (the swan etched into the glass shower door just screams 1982). We fell in with another couple looking, found the door to the water heater and furnace that also led under the house. The man climbed right in, while his wife told us that he was a structural engineer, and that this was always where he headed. We heard his voice from behind the furnace, saying, "Uh-oh." We all trooped back up to the dining room to peruse reports, and found one from the official structural engineer. Turns out this part of the hills is called the Blakemont Slide Area - and the engineer's report told us that the foundation needed at least $250K of work, since it had not been retrofitted in a long, long while. All four of us sighed and headed for the door. Asking price: $415K.
The Husband spotted several other open house signs just blocks apart, so we checked out a few more. At one the agent greeted us by telling us the square footage (around 1600) and the price for purchase or rental. Since this place was just a block above the last house, we asked about the Blakemont Slide, and he looked at us blankly, said the reports weren't done yet. Rampant dry rot, cracked plaster, sloping floors and the funkiest layout we'd ever seen - a tiny family room in the center of two bedrooms, a bathroom, the laundry closet, and the sliding glass door to the patio. Nothing looked more recent than the late 80s. Asking price: (wait for it) $675K. We held our laughter until we got back to our car.
The last house of the day was beautiful - still on the Slide area, but with an engineer's report saying that the foundation was in tip-top shape. Beautiful upgrades; a gorgeous kitchen with new cabinets and granite countertops; a master bathroom to die for; beautifully landscaped yard. All this beauty comes at a price well beyond our means: $725K.
Bring on the new listings, because the inventory that's out there does not work for us.
Once again into the breach of open house Sunday. We stayed in El Cerrito, looked at a place halfway up the hills, on the southern side of town. Spotlessly clean, big (over 1300 square feet), three bedrooms and two baths, a beautiful view of the Bay. Kitchen and bathrooms need updating (the swan etched into the glass shower door just screams 1982). We fell in with another couple looking, found the door to the water heater and furnace that also led under the house. The man climbed right in, while his wife told us that he was a structural engineer, and that this was always where he headed. We heard his voice from behind the furnace, saying, "Uh-oh." We all trooped back up to the dining room to peruse reports, and found one from the official structural engineer. Turns out this part of the hills is called the Blakemont Slide Area - and the engineer's report told us that the foundation needed at least $250K of work, since it had not been retrofitted in a long, long while. All four of us sighed and headed for the door. Asking price: $415K.
The Husband spotted several other open house signs just blocks apart, so we checked out a few more. At one the agent greeted us by telling us the square footage (around 1600) and the price for purchase or rental. Since this place was just a block above the last house, we asked about the Blakemont Slide, and he looked at us blankly, said the reports weren't done yet. Rampant dry rot, cracked plaster, sloping floors and the funkiest layout we'd ever seen - a tiny family room in the center of two bedrooms, a bathroom, the laundry closet, and the sliding glass door to the patio. Nothing looked more recent than the late 80s. Asking price: (wait for it) $675K. We held our laughter until we got back to our car.
The last house of the day was beautiful - still on the Slide area, but with an engineer's report saying that the foundation was in tip-top shape. Beautiful upgrades; a gorgeous kitchen with new cabinets and granite countertops; a master bathroom to die for; beautifully landscaped yard. All this beauty comes at a price well beyond our means: $725K.
Bring on the new listings, because the inventory that's out there does not work for us.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Back in the Saddle, Again.
F. picks us up at 6:00PM on Friday night - we're going to see how many houses we can squeeze into the remaining hours of daylight.
We start with one close to home, near the Del Norte BART station. First time we've looked at a house that just really felt like an apartment. About 1000 square feet, but it feels much smaller. Bland. The kitchen is out of 70s hell, with that hellish fake oak finish, pink formica countertops, and mismatched appliances. The rooms feel small, small, small. The yard is just an alley in the back and on one side; it opens out a little on the east side, but rolls straight downhill. The Husband is intrigued by what's underneath the house, since it's built on a hill, and finds a door at the back that opens up to the foundation, and where someone got as far as framing out a room and throwing up some sheetrock. Creepy. Asking price: $490K. Seriously?
We head up into the El Cerrito hills for the second one. It's listed as a handyman special -immediately apparent as we come down the walk and see the exterior paint sluffing off in sheets, the window frames appear to be rotting. Inside they have gone to the trouble of new floors, but no paint or repair for the ginormous cracks in the plaster in the living room and one of the bedrooms. But the view is spectacular from the huge living rooms windows - we can see Mount Tam, the bridge, the city. 1700 square feet, with a huge, ancient kitchen, a dining room with a huge "window" of glass brick (why, Lord, why?) and the living room on the first floor; two bedrooms and a bath on the second. Where is the advertised third bedroom and second bath? Why, just climb carefully down the narrow, pitched stairway to the basement, pass the washer, dryer and utility sink, and there they are - in dark panelling and green linoleum-tiled floor. The curly tile tells me that this room has flooded, more than once. The bathroom has a tiny sink that hits me just above the knees. Clearly tiny people lived downstairs. The yard is huge and just loose dirt, the pest report is $19K. For some reason, the Husband thinks this one is a possibility. I shrug. Asking price: $405K.
House number 3 is in the Richmond Annex; the MLS claims many updates, and we are optimistic when we pull up. It looks immaculate. The lockbox hangs on the front door, but the key unlocks a side door, so we end up walking around the back to find the door. We are surprised to see that someone has added a utility laundry room across the entire back of the house - not a real addition, just concrete floors, bare wood walls and green corrugated ceiling panels - very puzzling. Even more so when we get inside, and wonder why the house is so dark - it's because the two bedrooms and the bathroom have windows that look out - into the utility room. Huh? Asking price: $435K.
The last house is also in the Annex, and has an old glassed-in porch and a tiny turret at the front corner of the house. I'm already in love. They've refinished the floors beautifully, and put in new windows that have a charming pattern of panes. There's two tiny bedrooms up front, with a bathroom inbetween, and then we walk into a huge kitchen with dining room and TV room (what else can you call it? There's a big wall of cabinets with an opening for a TV!), two much larger bedrooms in the back with a big bathroom and a laundry room. The yard is bit overgrown, but fixable - and it looks like a few of the interior remodeling details remain unfinished, like light fixtures. This one is bank-owned, and you must get pre-approval from Wells Fargo. The Husband's face is alight. He loves this one - sees all the rooms and knows he would not have to downsize his clutter. Asking price: $425K.
We go for cocktails after, and the Husband keeps telling F. how much he wants that house. She promises to call the other agent the next day. I have learned not to be too optimistic, so I try not to think about how perfectly an armchair and reading lamp would fit in that little circular part of the room inside the turret.
We start with one close to home, near the Del Norte BART station. First time we've looked at a house that just really felt like an apartment. About 1000 square feet, but it feels much smaller. Bland. The kitchen is out of 70s hell, with that hellish fake oak finish, pink formica countertops, and mismatched appliances. The rooms feel small, small, small. The yard is just an alley in the back and on one side; it opens out a little on the east side, but rolls straight downhill. The Husband is intrigued by what's underneath the house, since it's built on a hill, and finds a door at the back that opens up to the foundation, and where someone got as far as framing out a room and throwing up some sheetrock. Creepy. Asking price: $490K. Seriously?
We head up into the El Cerrito hills for the second one. It's listed as a handyman special -immediately apparent as we come down the walk and see the exterior paint sluffing off in sheets, the window frames appear to be rotting. Inside they have gone to the trouble of new floors, but no paint or repair for the ginormous cracks in the plaster in the living room and one of the bedrooms. But the view is spectacular from the huge living rooms windows - we can see Mount Tam, the bridge, the city. 1700 square feet, with a huge, ancient kitchen, a dining room with a huge "window" of glass brick (why, Lord, why?) and the living room on the first floor; two bedrooms and a bath on the second. Where is the advertised third bedroom and second bath? Why, just climb carefully down the narrow, pitched stairway to the basement, pass the washer, dryer and utility sink, and there they are - in dark panelling and green linoleum-tiled floor. The curly tile tells me that this room has flooded, more than once. The bathroom has a tiny sink that hits me just above the knees. Clearly tiny people lived downstairs. The yard is huge and just loose dirt, the pest report is $19K. For some reason, the Husband thinks this one is a possibility. I shrug. Asking price: $405K.
House number 3 is in the Richmond Annex; the MLS claims many updates, and we are optimistic when we pull up. It looks immaculate. The lockbox hangs on the front door, but the key unlocks a side door, so we end up walking around the back to find the door. We are surprised to see that someone has added a utility laundry room across the entire back of the house - not a real addition, just concrete floors, bare wood walls and green corrugated ceiling panels - very puzzling. Even more so when we get inside, and wonder why the house is so dark - it's because the two bedrooms and the bathroom have windows that look out - into the utility room. Huh? Asking price: $435K.
The last house is also in the Annex, and has an old glassed-in porch and a tiny turret at the front corner of the house. I'm already in love. They've refinished the floors beautifully, and put in new windows that have a charming pattern of panes. There's two tiny bedrooms up front, with a bathroom inbetween, and then we walk into a huge kitchen with dining room and TV room (what else can you call it? There's a big wall of cabinets with an opening for a TV!), two much larger bedrooms in the back with a big bathroom and a laundry room. The yard is bit overgrown, but fixable - and it looks like a few of the interior remodeling details remain unfinished, like light fixtures. This one is bank-owned, and you must get pre-approval from Wells Fargo. The Husband's face is alight. He loves this one - sees all the rooms and knows he would not have to downsize his clutter. Asking price: $425K.
We go for cocktails after, and the Husband keeps telling F. how much he wants that house. She promises to call the other agent the next day. I have learned not to be too optimistic, so I try not to think about how perfectly an armchair and reading lamp would fit in that little circular part of the room inside the turret.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
The Bargain Basement
Received our first listing alert for a house under $200K. (The previous low was $299K.) What kind of house in Berkeley would list so low? Well, the kind of house that's been empty for many years - judging by the graffiti artist who kindly left his name and the date on the large work he did on the living room wall - at least since 2003. I give the seller credit for actually publishing photos on the MLS site. Broken windows, graffiti, one room that just looks like a pile of debris, chest-high weeds - all this can be yours for the low-low price of $178K. Cash only, please.
I have recovered enough from our last failed bid to not even consider this. Scheduled to look at some actual possibilies on Friday.
I have recovered enough from our last failed bid to not even consider this. Scheduled to look at some actual possibilies on Friday.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
If At First (or Second, or Third) You Don't Succeed
After observing several days of house-mourning, I feel ready to move on (although I'm pretty sure every time I drive by that house, it calls to me). After thinking that the housing market still pretty much sucks, a friend gave me a reality check by telling me about the first two houses he and his partner bid on at the height of the housing madness. They had the second to lowest bid on both, with 27 and 31 others bidding, respectively. 31 offers! Makes 8 offers look downright measly.
Labor Day weekend, so the Sunday real estate section is thin - nothing new in our price range (at least in a neighborhood where we'd want to live), so taking the weekend off from open houses. Will putter in my rental garden (and when we move, we're taking our rosebushes with us. I'm just sayin'.) and gorge myself on the DIY network (or as the Husband calls it, "house porn.").
Labor Day weekend, so the Sunday real estate section is thin - nothing new in our price range (at least in a neighborhood where we'd want to live), so taking the weekend off from open houses. Will putter in my rental garden (and when we move, we're taking our rosebushes with us. I'm just sayin'.) and gorge myself on the DIY network (or as the Husband calls it, "house porn.").
Thursday, September 3, 2009
...Hitting the Bottom of the Pool
September 2, and I try very hard to stay focused on work. I resist calling F. until nearly 11:00AM, which I think shows tremendous restraint on my part. She laughs when I call, checks her email and finds one from the seller's realtor. It is very nice, but says that the seller has accepted another offer, with conventional financing and a larger deposit. She will certainly be in touch if this sale does not work out.
F. does her best to cheer me up, but I'd let my imagination run away, and gotten too invested in the house. I am heartbroken. I was so convinced that it was the house for us. I call the Husband, who is in Milwaukee for the rest of the week - he tries to cheer me up by telling me we can buy a beautiful house for $200K less in Milwaukee. He also points out the 90-day moratorium on foreclosures in California was instituted on June 15, so there should be a wave of foreclosures soon. This depresses me even more. I don't want to benefit from someone losing their house,
I call girlfriends and wallow. The dogs do their best - the little one licks my ankle while the bigger one jumps onto the couch and puts his snoot in my ear. I can hear my father in my head, laughing about "the healing power of dog spit."
F. does her best to cheer me up, but I'd let my imagination run away, and gotten too invested in the house. I am heartbroken. I was so convinced that it was the house for us. I call the Husband, who is in Milwaukee for the rest of the week - he tries to cheer me up by telling me we can buy a beautiful house for $200K less in Milwaukee. He also points out the 90-day moratorium on foreclosures in California was instituted on June 15, so there should be a wave of foreclosures soon. This depresses me even more. I don't want to benefit from someone losing their house,
I call girlfriends and wallow. The dogs do their best - the little one licks my ankle while the bigger one jumps onto the couch and puts his snoot in my ear. I can hear my father in my head, laughing about "the healing power of dog spit."
Diving In, Headfirst
The pest report comes back and is astoundingly low - just $3K. Realtor F. is very skeptical, but we decide to take the plunge. They want offers by September 1 at 4:00PM. The Husband and I ruminate - decide to offer $380K, and ask for closing costs back. That's $30K over the list price. How can they say no?
I try not to obsess, but walk the dogs past the house slooooooooowly, imagining the changes I would make before we even moved in. I go online and start pricing things like gas fireplace inserts and appliances. I plan where I will put the raised vegetable beds in the big backyard. But I try not to jinx the sale by always saying "IF we get the house," when speaking of it to others. No verbal jinxing allowed. Mentally, though, I'm jinxing it all over the place.
F. sends in our offer, and the seller's agent calls almost immediately to discuss. They speak for nearly a half hour, and the other agent says it is a good offer. I start picking out paint colors in my head.
I try not to obsess, but walk the dogs past the house slooooooooowly, imagining the changes I would make before we even moved in. I go online and start pricing things like gas fireplace inserts and appliances. I plan where I will put the raised vegetable beds in the big backyard. But I try not to jinx the sale by always saying "IF we get the house," when speaking of it to others. No verbal jinxing allowed. Mentally, though, I'm jinxing it all over the place.
F. sends in our offer, and the seller's agent calls almost immediately to discuss. They speak for nearly a half hour, and the other agent says it is a good offer. I start picking out paint colors in my head.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Could It Be?? Maybe???
F. tells us that the tenants are still moving out of the last property we tried to look at in El Cerrito, but it is available for realtor-escorted viewings. She meets us there on Tuesday night, and she is not impressed by the overgrowth or the ancient garage door. We go inside, and it looks like several tornadoes collided. The tenants have taken their furniture, but they have left scattered piles of clothes, toys, books and trash spread out everywhere. A turtle squats in a dirty terrarium in one of the bedrooms. Every cabinet door is open in the kitchen, food still sits in the pantry and is spread on the floor. Mold grows on all four walls of the bathroom.
We make ourselves focus on the house, not what's in it. 1100 square feet, a big kitchen with the laundry in a utility room with a door. Big, open living and dining room space. The bedrooms are on the smallish side, but the closets are not. And once we pick our way across the crumbling patio, the yard opens up - the lot is 5000 square feet. Plenty of space for small dogs to play. It needs a new fence, and hopefully the rusty swing set will disappear.
F. is clucking her tongue with disapproval. None of us can believe children lived in this mess. We will wait for the pest report, due on Aug. 27, to see if the problems are mostly cosmetic. But I like this house, I think we can fix it, and the price is right. Asking price: $350K.
We make ourselves focus on the house, not what's in it. 1100 square feet, a big kitchen with the laundry in a utility room with a door. Big, open living and dining room space. The bedrooms are on the smallish side, but the closets are not. And once we pick our way across the crumbling patio, the yard opens up - the lot is 5000 square feet. Plenty of space for small dogs to play. It needs a new fence, and hopefully the rusty swing set will disappear.
F. is clucking her tongue with disapproval. None of us can believe children lived in this mess. We will wait for the pest report, due on Aug. 27, to see if the problems are mostly cosmetic. But I like this house, I think we can fix it, and the price is right. Asking price: $350K.
Must...Not...Give...Up
We keep telling ourselves that some people look for months and months. Homeowner friends regale us with stories of bidding on eight, nine, ten houses before finally being successful. But isn't the homebuying world supposed to be different now?
Sunday August 24, and we have only two houses on our list. One is back in the Richmond Annex. The owners have made some questionable choices in the improvements. They took out the shower in the master bathroom, and turned it into a cedar closet. Sink, toilet, cedar closet. Hmmm. The second largest bedroom was wired to be a home office, leaving the tiny third bedroom (that can barely fit a twin bed) for guests. The other bathroom has been retiled in turquoise. The house itself is very 70s era, with the same concrete and bonsai Japanese garden that we have at our rental, which does not appeal, although the double garage makes the Husband salivate. Asking price: $425K.
The second house is most decidly not open; several househunters peer through the windows with us and see belongings strewn everywhere. There are children's toys and garden pots piled in the overgrown front yard. We will ask F. to investigate.
Sunday August 24, and we have only two houses on our list. One is back in the Richmond Annex. The owners have made some questionable choices in the improvements. They took out the shower in the master bathroom, and turned it into a cedar closet. Sink, toilet, cedar closet. Hmmm. The second largest bedroom was wired to be a home office, leaving the tiny third bedroom (that can barely fit a twin bed) for guests. The other bathroom has been retiled in turquoise. The house itself is very 70s era, with the same concrete and bonsai Japanese garden that we have at our rental, which does not appeal, although the double garage makes the Husband salivate. Asking price: $425K.
The second house is most decidly not open; several househunters peer through the windows with us and see belongings strewn everywhere. There are children's toys and garden pots piled in the overgrown front yard. We will ask F. to investigate.
Not Just The Toe, The Whole Foot
F. checks on the Richmond Annex house, discovers that they want offers by noon on Wednesday. What is it with the crazy deadlines??? We meet her after work, and all traipse to the house. Even with a pest report of $30K, she is impressed, the Husband is impressed. The rooms are big and bright. We don't love that there is a tenant in the garage apartment, especially since there are no permits, but we can live with this for a bit. But $448K is over our pre-approval. I will call our loan officer tomorrow to see if we can go higher. If so, we are throwing our hat into the ring for this one.
Our friendly loan officer takes us up to $450K, tells me with our credit history we can go even higher. But she also issues a word of caution - wants us to think about what we can really afford on a monthly basis. She gives me a formula to calculate our monthly payment, including taxes, household insurance, mortgage insurance. Yikes! I think $450K is our upper limit.
F. gets our packet in before the deadline; we offer our top price of $450K. The other agent tells her that she has received eight other offers at that time. This is not good for us.
The answer comes within 24 hours. Another no. Someone offered much more, and could put 20% down. We do not have $90K for a down payment. We are disappointed, but beginning to see how this whole wacky system works.
Isn't it supposed to be a buyer's market??
Our friendly loan officer takes us up to $450K, tells me with our credit history we can go even higher. But she also issues a word of caution - wants us to think about what we can really afford on a monthly basis. She gives me a formula to calculate our monthly payment, including taxes, household insurance, mortgage insurance. Yikes! I think $450K is our upper limit.
F. gets our packet in before the deadline; we offer our top price of $450K. The other agent tells her that she has received eight other offers at that time. This is not good for us.
The answer comes within 24 hours. Another no. Someone offered much more, and could put 20% down. We do not have $90K for a down payment. We are disappointed, but beginning to see how this whole wacky system works.
Isn't it supposed to be a buyer's market??
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Somewhere, Out There
Third weekend of househunting. The Husband is at a softball tournament, so I am on my own. I head to Berkeley, to check out two houses in the same neighborhood near Ashby. Oh, to have lots of money to fix up an old house. The first is full of quirks and tiny hallways and hidden closets - and cracked plaster, rotting carpets, decaying bathroom fixtures. I'm pretty sure I could knock down the freestanding garage if I just lean hard. Asking price: $419K.
The second one breaks my heart - clearly once a grand house, huge, with columns and a sweeping staircase in the front hall. Tall elegant windows and French doors in the parlor, living room, and dining room (several with warnings not to touch). There's a butler's pantry off the kitchen, and back staircase for the servants. The agent does not hesitate to tell everyone that it needs a new foundation and roof, not to mention new everything else. There are four big bedrooms upstairs, all with varying peeling wallpapers, and the strangest bathroom I have ever seen. Pink fixtures that have faded to purplish, and pink tile on the floor, walls, AND ceiling. Who tiles their ceiling??? Asking price: $395K.
I venture into a new neighborhood for the last two houses - Richmond Annex. We've instinctively avoided anything in Richmond, stories of crime have scared us away. But the Annex is charming, downright Berkeleyesque. The first house is tiny and immaculate, but no room to grow, as the backyard is about the size of a king mattress. Asking price: $379K.
The second makes my heart beat faster. A living room with a fireplace and beamed ceilings. Two big bedrooms. The bathroom fixtures are aqua, the kitchen is old, but it is clean and charming. The double garage has been turned into an apartment, and the realtor takes great pains to tell us that although the work is up to code, no permits were obtained. The yard is lush, with fruit trees. I can imagine our two little terriers romping. I walk through it again, slowly. This may be it. Asking price: $448K.
When the Husband gets home I load him into the car and drive him over to see the Annex house, even though the open house is long over. He is charmed too. I will call F. tomorrow.
The second one breaks my heart - clearly once a grand house, huge, with columns and a sweeping staircase in the front hall. Tall elegant windows and French doors in the parlor, living room, and dining room (several with warnings not to touch). There's a butler's pantry off the kitchen, and back staircase for the servants. The agent does not hesitate to tell everyone that it needs a new foundation and roof, not to mention new everything else. There are four big bedrooms upstairs, all with varying peeling wallpapers, and the strangest bathroom I have ever seen. Pink fixtures that have faded to purplish, and pink tile on the floor, walls, AND ceiling. Who tiles their ceiling??? Asking price: $395K.
I venture into a new neighborhood for the last two houses - Richmond Annex. We've instinctively avoided anything in Richmond, stories of crime have scared us away. But the Annex is charming, downright Berkeleyesque. The first house is tiny and immaculate, but no room to grow, as the backyard is about the size of a king mattress. Asking price: $379K.
The second makes my heart beat faster. A living room with a fireplace and beamed ceilings. Two big bedrooms. The bathroom fixtures are aqua, the kitchen is old, but it is clean and charming. The double garage has been turned into an apartment, and the realtor takes great pains to tell us that although the work is up to code, no permits were obtained. The yard is lush, with fruit trees. I can imagine our two little terriers romping. I walk through it again, slowly. This may be it. Asking price: $448K.
When the Husband gets home I load him into the car and drive him over to see the Annex house, even though the open house is long over. He is charmed too. I will call F. tomorrow.
Getting Right Back on the Horse
F. tells us not to despair, jump back into the search. I meet her on a Thursday night at a house that has just come on the market in Albany. Another 20s era place, neglected landscaping. The living room and dining room make me giddy - someone has clearly taken a great deal of time and trouble to restore the woodwork to pristine condition. The dining room built-in makes me swoon. The front bedrooms are a bit small, the front bathroom is archaic, but livable.
The kitchen is something entirely different. There's a stain on the ceiling the size of Florida, bulging ominously - I'm pretty sure Craig T. Nelson pulled his wife and kid through it on a gooey rope. The cabinets look like painted plywood, and a big, eager dog clearly tried to dig his way out of the kitchen door - through several layers of linoleum and down to the subfloor.
The listing says a new master suite, and we find it on the other side of the kitchen, tacked onto the back of the house, clearly a do-it-yourself project. The baseboard is just 1X4 nailed to the sheetrock (and you can see every sheet of the sheetrock, since they didn't tape or mud). They measured wrong, so the baseboard extends into the doorways by about an inch on each side. The tile floor in the badly laid out bathroom convinces me that no one owned a level.
Outside was even worse. Two decks, both rotting and patched with plywood. The garage with "parking for one car," has actually been turned into an illegal in-law. I'm guessing it's illegal because the bathroom only has a sink and a toilet and a pipe sticking out the floor where the shower should be. Sure, you could park here, but you'd have to tear out the closet that's been built in front of the door. The crowning touch? We walk to the sideyard, and the chimney is falling off the house. I can literally see daylight between the brick of the chimney and the stucco of the house.
Asking price: $485K. We laugh and laugh, and then go home.
The kitchen is something entirely different. There's a stain on the ceiling the size of Florida, bulging ominously - I'm pretty sure Craig T. Nelson pulled his wife and kid through it on a gooey rope. The cabinets look like painted plywood, and a big, eager dog clearly tried to dig his way out of the kitchen door - through several layers of linoleum and down to the subfloor.
The listing says a new master suite, and we find it on the other side of the kitchen, tacked onto the back of the house, clearly a do-it-yourself project. The baseboard is just 1X4 nailed to the sheetrock (and you can see every sheet of the sheetrock, since they didn't tape or mud). They measured wrong, so the baseboard extends into the doorways by about an inch on each side. The tile floor in the badly laid out bathroom convinces me that no one owned a level.
Outside was even worse. Two decks, both rotting and patched with plywood. The garage with "parking for one car," has actually been turned into an illegal in-law. I'm guessing it's illegal because the bathroom only has a sink and a toilet and a pipe sticking out the floor where the shower should be. Sure, you could park here, but you'd have to tear out the closet that's been built in front of the door. The crowning touch? We walk to the sideyard, and the chimney is falling off the house. I can literally see daylight between the brick of the chimney and the stucco of the house.
Asking price: $485K. We laugh and laugh, and then go home.
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