Could this long ordeal be over? F. calls (and I happen to be staring at my computer screen, so see an email from our mortgage broker flash up just as the phone rings). The selling agent says the seller has accepted our offer -BUT - the agent wants to review the offer agreement when the seller FedExes it back. He is concerned that retired-real-estate-attorney- seller may have made changes to the agreement without telling him. But tentatively...full steam ahead!!
F. starts talking inspection, pest report, sewer lateral, and my head starts to whirl. Mortgage Broker wants to set up a meeting pronto to get our paperwork and do some signing. Do I keep a brown bag in my office? Must call the Husband.
My boss stops by, tells me to just think of it as Monopoly money, smile and sign. If you give it too much thought, he says, you'd never do it.
I pull up the house on the street view of Google Maps and stare at it for a long, long time.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Got Patience? Can You Loan Me Some??
I am doing surprisingly well not thinking about the Richmond house every minute - helps that I'm crazy busy at work. But at lunch today I found myself shopping for window treatments that would just happen to fit the large windows in a certain unowned-by-us house. And watching Sweat Equity on DIY has become an obsession, especially since it's bathroom and kitchen week!!!
The Husband and I cruised five open houses on Sunday. The first was a smallish (870 sq ft) mock-MacGregor in El Cerrito. Tiny living room with a ginormous kitchen behind it, with a sadly neglected O'Keefe & Merritt stove (neglecting a stove of that vintage should be a felony). Built in 1925, it had another interesting feature; the bedroom closets had multiple short bars that were perpendicular to the back wall, instead of one long one parallel. Death-defying back stairs to the yard and the back door to the basement semi-finished, very damp, and we looked around for a coal chute for the ancient furnace. The very nice agent sitting in the kitchen told us he had gotten estimates for pest, electrical, new furnace. Asking price: $419.5.
We headed up into the hills for the second house, up above the Arlington at the north end, where El Cerrito becomes Richmond. The flyer said "generous fixer," and they weren't kidding about the fixer part - a huge living room with big windows toward the Bay, but the view mostly blocked by the birch trees planted in the front yard. And there was a definite slope downward on all the front rooms, severe enough that closet and bathroom doors would not close. Little hallways ran off in all directions, a bedroom here, two or three there. All with shredded, threadbare carpet, tatty old wallpaper. There was an attempt to modernize the dining room in the 70s, I guessed, because the built-in cabinets were painted avocado green, with glued on rocks for a mosaic effect. The kitchen had dark brown cabinets, dark brown appliances, dark brown floor - gave the feeling of a muddy tunnel. All this could be ours for just $299K.
Down the hill into northern El Cerrito to look at a little bungalow built around 1916. Two bedrooms, and the owners have done a lovely job with color and design updates inside; the driveway is closed off to make more of the yard, and it is a bit over-landscaped; the Husband starts pointing out what he'd pull out. A closer look at the outside shows many, many cracks in the stucco, and there are holes right under the eaves. We chat with the agent, who it turns out, was the agent for the pink house in Richmond Annex (he kindly tells us we made a very nice bid, but we hear again that the folks who got it bid $2K more than we did and waived inspection, so paid for the $13K in section 1 repairs out of their own pocket. Bygones.). He tells us that these owners are tough, but will pay for the new roof that's needed, but will not cover the sewer lateral or the plumbing repairs that need to be done under the house. We like him very much, but it is clear to us that these owners did the cosmetic things and ignored the bones of the house. Asking price: $479K.
There's an open house catty-corner from this one, we decide to peek. The flyer calls it and elegant 1920s "Exec Home," and we are wowed as soon as we step inside, see the high ceilinged foyer with a sweeping staircase curving up the back wall. Huge living room, huge dining room, I could see Don Draper from Mad Men buying this place to entertain. There's a maid's bedroom and bathroom off the kitchen; the master bedroom upstairs has a walk-in closet for clothes, and another closet with all kinds of cupboards for accessories. Not a single thing has been updated in the kitchen or bathrooms, and it's still lovely. We look out the back window, and our hearts fall - the entire backyard has been paved in cement, and the entire width of the back property line is an open, four-car garage. Not a speck of green anywhere. Who turns an entire yard into a driveway? The binder in the kitchen tells a sad story of new roof needed, $30K pest report, new electrical estimate. I stop in the foyer and say to the Husband, "If we had more money, we could fix this up beautifully." He says, "If we had more money, we'd buy one already fixed." Therein lies our respective feelings about houses, in one exchange. Asking price on this fixer: $599K.
We're headed for home when we see an open house sign for one of the ones I looked at with F. and ruled out - the fixer filled with creepy reminders of sad occupants. The Husband wants a peek, so we park, walk through the open garage to the backyard, in through the utility room door, and explore the whole back of the house before we encounter the agent sitting on the old plaid couch in the dining room. I am immediately reminded of Mama from the movie "What's Eating Gilbert Grape." She is very large, in a loose-fitting muu-muu of a top, sunk into the couch like it's eating her whole. A young girl in the room with her hands us the flyer, and the agent never moves from the couch (I'm not sure she could, without help), chatting us up. I'm getting a fresh set of the creeps. We can't get out the door fast enough.
The Husband and I cruised five open houses on Sunday. The first was a smallish (870 sq ft) mock-MacGregor in El Cerrito. Tiny living room with a ginormous kitchen behind it, with a sadly neglected O'Keefe & Merritt stove (neglecting a stove of that vintage should be a felony). Built in 1925, it had another interesting feature; the bedroom closets had multiple short bars that were perpendicular to the back wall, instead of one long one parallel. Death-defying back stairs to the yard and the back door to the basement semi-finished, very damp, and we looked around for a coal chute for the ancient furnace. The very nice agent sitting in the kitchen told us he had gotten estimates for pest, electrical, new furnace. Asking price: $419.5.
We headed up into the hills for the second house, up above the Arlington at the north end, where El Cerrito becomes Richmond. The flyer said "generous fixer," and they weren't kidding about the fixer part - a huge living room with big windows toward the Bay, but the view mostly blocked by the birch trees planted in the front yard. And there was a definite slope downward on all the front rooms, severe enough that closet and bathroom doors would not close. Little hallways ran off in all directions, a bedroom here, two or three there. All with shredded, threadbare carpet, tatty old wallpaper. There was an attempt to modernize the dining room in the 70s, I guessed, because the built-in cabinets were painted avocado green, with glued on rocks for a mosaic effect. The kitchen had dark brown cabinets, dark brown appliances, dark brown floor - gave the feeling of a muddy tunnel. All this could be ours for just $299K.
Down the hill into northern El Cerrito to look at a little bungalow built around 1916. Two bedrooms, and the owners have done a lovely job with color and design updates inside; the driveway is closed off to make more of the yard, and it is a bit over-landscaped; the Husband starts pointing out what he'd pull out. A closer look at the outside shows many, many cracks in the stucco, and there are holes right under the eaves. We chat with the agent, who it turns out, was the agent for the pink house in Richmond Annex (he kindly tells us we made a very nice bid, but we hear again that the folks who got it bid $2K more than we did and waived inspection, so paid for the $13K in section 1 repairs out of their own pocket. Bygones.). He tells us that these owners are tough, but will pay for the new roof that's needed, but will not cover the sewer lateral or the plumbing repairs that need to be done under the house. We like him very much, but it is clear to us that these owners did the cosmetic things and ignored the bones of the house. Asking price: $479K.
There's an open house catty-corner from this one, we decide to peek. The flyer calls it and elegant 1920s "Exec Home," and we are wowed as soon as we step inside, see the high ceilinged foyer with a sweeping staircase curving up the back wall. Huge living room, huge dining room, I could see Don Draper from Mad Men buying this place to entertain. There's a maid's bedroom and bathroom off the kitchen; the master bedroom upstairs has a walk-in closet for clothes, and another closet with all kinds of cupboards for accessories. Not a single thing has been updated in the kitchen or bathrooms, and it's still lovely. We look out the back window, and our hearts fall - the entire backyard has been paved in cement, and the entire width of the back property line is an open, four-car garage. Not a speck of green anywhere. Who turns an entire yard into a driveway? The binder in the kitchen tells a sad story of new roof needed, $30K pest report, new electrical estimate. I stop in the foyer and say to the Husband, "If we had more money, we could fix this up beautifully." He says, "If we had more money, we'd buy one already fixed." Therein lies our respective feelings about houses, in one exchange. Asking price on this fixer: $599K.
We're headed for home when we see an open house sign for one of the ones I looked at with F. and ruled out - the fixer filled with creepy reminders of sad occupants. The Husband wants a peek, so we park, walk through the open garage to the backyard, in through the utility room door, and explore the whole back of the house before we encounter the agent sitting on the old plaid couch in the dining room. I am immediately reminded of Mama from the movie "What's Eating Gilbert Grape." She is very large, in a loose-fitting muu-muu of a top, sunk into the couch like it's eating her whole. A young girl in the room with her hands us the flyer, and the agent never moves from the couch (I'm not sure she could, without help), chatting us up. I'm getting a fresh set of the creeps. We can't get out the door fast enough.
Monday, October 26, 2009
And We Wait, And Wait...
So much for a response by Saturday. Not a peep from the other agent. F. tells us to remain calm, and I drink a healthy amount of wine with dinner to help me maintain my serenity, fall asleep on the Husband's shoulder while watching a movie from the couch.
AND NO WORD SUNDAY!!! F. has called and emailed, nothing from the other agent, but again she counsels calm, as the agent mentioned that the seller lived in Arizona, and was a bit difficult to contact. She insists we go to some open houses (which I'll write about later).
FINALLY - a phone call on Monday morning. Turns out the seller is a retired real estate attorney. Oy. The seller's agent asks how we came up with the number for our offer of $360K (research and consulting with two appraisers, that's how!) and that the seller wanted to know if we had intended to check the box (that was unchecked) on our offer that said we would pay $360K, no matter how the appraisal came back. F. informed him in no uncertain terms that no, if the appraisal came back lower, we would be negotiating. The agent asked if we would handle inspection, pest report, sewer lateral - yes, yes, yes. He tells us that he has Fed Exed our offer to the seller, and will get back to us as soon as possible, no later than the end of the week.
The end of the week???!!!! Time to get started on that ulcer...
AND NO WORD SUNDAY!!! F. has called and emailed, nothing from the other agent, but again she counsels calm, as the agent mentioned that the seller lived in Arizona, and was a bit difficult to contact. She insists we go to some open houses (which I'll write about later).
FINALLY - a phone call on Monday morning. Turns out the seller is a retired real estate attorney. Oy. The seller's agent asks how we came up with the number for our offer of $360K (research and consulting with two appraisers, that's how!) and that the seller wanted to know if we had intended to check the box (that was unchecked) on our offer that said we would pay $360K, no matter how the appraisal came back. F. informed him in no uncertain terms that no, if the appraisal came back lower, we would be negotiating. The agent asked if we would handle inspection, pest report, sewer lateral - yes, yes, yes. He tells us that he has Fed Exed our offer to the seller, and will get back to us as soon as possible, no later than the end of the week.
The end of the week???!!!! Time to get started on that ulcer...
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Fingers and Toes Crossed
F. wanted to move quickly on the house on Clinton Hill in the Richmond, so the Husband toured it with her on Thursday morning. She said by the time they reached the downstairs family room, he was whimpering quietly, "I waaaaaaant this house." F. is ahead of us, she has contacted our mortgage broker, and asked him to call some local assessors, get an idea of how high we can go in this area, since it's new to all of us. I poke around on Zillow, see that houses in the area have sold in the low-to-mid 300s, and sure enough, the assessors come back and tell us $360K would be the limit.
We scramble, get an offer together on Thursday, and out to the selling agent - he tells us that he is expecting another offer, but will get us an answer in a day or two. Just so we aren't left hanging, F. has put a deadline of 6:00PM Saturday for their response.
The Husband has perused the City of Richmond's crime maps, and plans to go into the station and talk with them, cop to cop, about the area. He tells me that I will have to carry a phone when I walk the dogs, and he will show me how to use pepper spray if I'd like. (I try to imagine getting to pepper spray with two dog leashes in my hand. And I wonder what the Husband would have thought of the neighborhoods I lived in NYC and Hoboken back in the day...he would have never let me leave the house.)
We can't resist, it's a beautiful evening on Friday, so we load up the dogs and take them to Clinton Hill, take a long walk in the neighborhood. We meet a chatty woman walking her cattle dog, and she joins us, telling us that she used to live in Berkeley but she feels much safer here. We walk past the house, make a wish.
We scramble, get an offer together on Thursday, and out to the selling agent - he tells us that he is expecting another offer, but will get us an answer in a day or two. Just so we aren't left hanging, F. has put a deadline of 6:00PM Saturday for their response.
The Husband has perused the City of Richmond's crime maps, and plans to go into the station and talk with them, cop to cop, about the area. He tells me that I will have to carry a phone when I walk the dogs, and he will show me how to use pepper spray if I'd like. (I try to imagine getting to pepper spray with two dog leashes in my hand. And I wonder what the Husband would have thought of the neighborhoods I lived in NYC and Hoboken back in the day...he would have never let me leave the house.)
We can't resist, it's a beautiful evening on Friday, so we load up the dogs and take them to Clinton Hill, take a long walk in the neighborhood. We meet a chatty woman walking her cattle dog, and she joins us, telling us that she used to live in Berkeley but she feels much safer here. We walk past the house, make a wish.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Round and Round.
Tuesday night, F. and I set out to hit four houses (hopefully all before dark). First stop is the house that was supposed to be open Sunday - F. has followed the instructions and called to leave a message that we were stopping by. Even so, we are letting ourselves in when the front door opens, and a college-age girl in sweats peers out at us. We explain that we called, she nods and lets us in, and we can clearly smell her dinner in the kitchen. A pudgy old schnauzer trails after us in the living room; when we come to a stop she gently paws my heels, so I turn and pet her. A few more steps, she follows, she paws, I pet. The girl comes out of the kitchen, scoops her up, grabs a bowl from the counter, and heads up to a bedroom, closing the door behind her. Guess we won't see that bedroom. The house is partially updated, kitchen looks good, floors refinished. A card table and folding chair are the only furniture in the living room, and when we see the other bedroom, there are two twin mattresses on the floor. Hmm. Downstairs from the kitchen is the laundry room and entrance to the garage; down another half-flight is a rec room, nice other than the old green linoleum, and the stains where water has pooled in the middle. We walk into the backyard, and along the side of the house is a gully where yesterday's downpour must have flowed, eroding the neighbor's fence. And there's no back fence, just scattered cinderblocks, and a drop-off of a three foot retaining wall into the back neighbor's yard. Huh. Asking price: $469K.
We stop by the "retro" place that the Husband and I checked out Sunday. F. sees too much that needs to be fixed, and doesn't like the flow. We agree that $495K is ridiculous; if they dropped the price $75K it might be worth considering.
Next stop is the place in Richmond, whose exterior set the Husband's heart aflame. So very dated on the inside (made me long for a martini) but the previous owners kept it spotlessly clean. Huge living room, big bedrooms with multiple closets, and a big family room downstairs that would be the perfect office space for the Husband to hole up in. The kitchen has butterfly wallpaper, and even better - butterfly tile backsplash. There's also a giant banquette in the kitchen (this is clearly banquette week in the home search). We go downstairs and open up the doors to the basement, and gasp - neither of us have ever seen a basement this immaculate. No dirt anywhere, not a cobweb or a twig - I would eat off this floor. Tons of storage, 1400 square feet, and a double garage. The Husband must see this place. My imagination is already hard at work, tearing up carpet, pulling down drapes. Asking price $325K.
Last stop on our whirlwind tour (and it's dark out, we just can't go that fast) is back in El Cerrito. Another old, tired house; about 1200 sq ft, 3 bedrooms, 1 bath. Even though the painters' equipment is sitting in the living room, it still feels like the elderly folk who lived here just left the room; beat-up plaid couch; thin, frayed towels hanging in the bathroom; mismatched sheets on a little old bed in the back. Why didn't the selling agent clear this place out? The layout is bizarre: there's a door from the dining room into the kitchen, kitchen into the utility room, utility room into the hall, hall into the dining room. That's a crapload of doors in a very small area. Bathroom is antique, the kitchen linoleum is truly vintage, I think I've seen Joan Crawford standing on this linoleum in a movie. Big yard full of crumbling cement levels. This place kinda gives me the creeps - like bad feelings are floating around. Someone needs to smudge some serious sage here, but it won't be us. Asking price: $440K.
We stop by the "retro" place that the Husband and I checked out Sunday. F. sees too much that needs to be fixed, and doesn't like the flow. We agree that $495K is ridiculous; if they dropped the price $75K it might be worth considering.
Next stop is the place in Richmond, whose exterior set the Husband's heart aflame. So very dated on the inside (made me long for a martini) but the previous owners kept it spotlessly clean. Huge living room, big bedrooms with multiple closets, and a big family room downstairs that would be the perfect office space for the Husband to hole up in. The kitchen has butterfly wallpaper, and even better - butterfly tile backsplash. There's also a giant banquette in the kitchen (this is clearly banquette week in the home search). We go downstairs and open up the doors to the basement, and gasp - neither of us have ever seen a basement this immaculate. No dirt anywhere, not a cobweb or a twig - I would eat off this floor. Tons of storage, 1400 square feet, and a double garage. The Husband must see this place. My imagination is already hard at work, tearing up carpet, pulling down drapes. Asking price $325K.
Last stop on our whirlwind tour (and it's dark out, we just can't go that fast) is back in El Cerrito. Another old, tired house; about 1200 sq ft, 3 bedrooms, 1 bath. Even though the painters' equipment is sitting in the living room, it still feels like the elderly folk who lived here just left the room; beat-up plaid couch; thin, frayed towels hanging in the bathroom; mismatched sheets on a little old bed in the back. Why didn't the selling agent clear this place out? The layout is bizarre: there's a door from the dining room into the kitchen, kitchen into the utility room, utility room into the hall, hall into the dining room. That's a crapload of doors in a very small area. Bathroom is antique, the kitchen linoleum is truly vintage, I think I've seen Joan Crawford standing on this linoleum in a movie. Big yard full of crumbling cement levels. This place kinda gives me the creeps - like bad feelings are floating around. Someone needs to smudge some serious sage here, but it won't be us. Asking price: $440K.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Dust Yourself Off...
Sunday afternoon and the Husband is available, so I make my list of open houses, plot our route (Wha? Me, obsessive??) The first stop is a bust - no open house sign, just a terse note stuck on the door informing agents to call first, because this home IS OCCUPIED. Okey-doke, we'll try you later.
We swing over to a couple of houses off Fairmount. The first is a very cute MacGregor bungalow, just over 800 sq ft.; they've done a lovely job of updating (and staging). The place is immaculate, and a peek at the pest report shows $13,000. They've added a little utility room in the back, and the small backyard is as pristine as the inside. What puzzles us is the large object sitting next to the back of the house. It looks for all the world like a unit for central air conditioning - and although we grew up with AC, we've never seen a house on this side of the hills with a unit. How often can they possibly use it?? We ask the agent, he hasn't a clue. Asking price: $495K.
I think there's another house one block over, so we find the for sale sign and follow it, walk in; I immediately whisper to the husband that we are in the wrong house - the gorgeous built-ins on either side of the fireplace are a clear sign that this house will cost more than $500K. But I could weep at all the shelf space. The kitchen is brand new, the closets deep and wonderful. The agent tells us that the pest report is $20K, but $15 of that is to replace the back deck, which since the yard is level, she would replace with a flagstone patio. I am afraid to look at the flyer in my hand to see the list price: $565K. Farewell, beautiful built-ins.
The third stop is near the EC Plaza BART; it looks old and tired from the outside. Inside they have refinished the wood floors and painted the main rooms, and the flyer coyly describes "retro" details. Retro means that the banquette that was built in the kitchen is still there, sparkly-flecked plastic covers and all. And the dishwasher is retro too, circa 1968, with several decades of dust inside. The husband is puzzled by two shower rods, running parallel about 10 inches apart in the main bathroom; perhaps a very skinny person was showering? The addition in the back was done on the cheap, though with permits; place and press tile, painted plywood cabinets, and the additional bathroom is dark as a tomb. The backyard is almost entirely paved, and when we round the corner, we see a giant lump of concrete that turns out to be a defunct water feature. They've added an enclosed side porch out the kitchen door, and plunked the washer and dryer there. And the location means that both the kitchen and main bathroom windows look out onto the porch and its plexiglass windows. The Husband is sure F. will think this a teardown, but wants her to check it out. He bonks his head on the too-low garage door frame, spends the rest of the afternoon whimpering about the indignity and injury bald men must endure. Asking price: $495K.
Our other stops are just drive-bys; one is near EC Del Norte, another older place; can't see the indoors, but we walk around and peek into the huge backyard - and spot another huge, defunct water feature. Somebody made a killing selling those in El Cerrito a few decades ago. I'll check this house out with F. later in the week.
We decide to explore broadening our horizons, and head to Richmond to check out a listing I saw - we find a little neighborhood called Clinton Hill, and the ex-cop Husband is surprisingly charmed. We get out of the car and walk around the block, and are pleased by the houses and their well-kept yards. And the Husband is intrigued by this listing, as the house looks big, and has one of his most favorite features...a double garage. Another one to put on my list for F.
We come home and spend some time on the City of Richmond website, checking out their crime map and stats. The Husband decides that if we are seriously interested, he'll go down to the police station and have a chat about neighborhoods.
We swing over to a couple of houses off Fairmount. The first is a very cute MacGregor bungalow, just over 800 sq ft.; they've done a lovely job of updating (and staging). The place is immaculate, and a peek at the pest report shows $13,000. They've added a little utility room in the back, and the small backyard is as pristine as the inside. What puzzles us is the large object sitting next to the back of the house. It looks for all the world like a unit for central air conditioning - and although we grew up with AC, we've never seen a house on this side of the hills with a unit. How often can they possibly use it?? We ask the agent, he hasn't a clue. Asking price: $495K.
I think there's another house one block over, so we find the for sale sign and follow it, walk in; I immediately whisper to the husband that we are in the wrong house - the gorgeous built-ins on either side of the fireplace are a clear sign that this house will cost more than $500K. But I could weep at all the shelf space. The kitchen is brand new, the closets deep and wonderful. The agent tells us that the pest report is $20K, but $15 of that is to replace the back deck, which since the yard is level, she would replace with a flagstone patio. I am afraid to look at the flyer in my hand to see the list price: $565K. Farewell, beautiful built-ins.
The third stop is near the EC Plaza BART; it looks old and tired from the outside. Inside they have refinished the wood floors and painted the main rooms, and the flyer coyly describes "retro" details. Retro means that the banquette that was built in the kitchen is still there, sparkly-flecked plastic covers and all. And the dishwasher is retro too, circa 1968, with several decades of dust inside. The husband is puzzled by two shower rods, running parallel about 10 inches apart in the main bathroom; perhaps a very skinny person was showering? The addition in the back was done on the cheap, though with permits; place and press tile, painted plywood cabinets, and the additional bathroom is dark as a tomb. The backyard is almost entirely paved, and when we round the corner, we see a giant lump of concrete that turns out to be a defunct water feature. They've added an enclosed side porch out the kitchen door, and plunked the washer and dryer there. And the location means that both the kitchen and main bathroom windows look out onto the porch and its plexiglass windows. The Husband is sure F. will think this a teardown, but wants her to check it out. He bonks his head on the too-low garage door frame, spends the rest of the afternoon whimpering about the indignity and injury bald men must endure. Asking price: $495K.
Our other stops are just drive-bys; one is near EC Del Norte, another older place; can't see the indoors, but we walk around and peek into the huge backyard - and spot another huge, defunct water feature. Somebody made a killing selling those in El Cerrito a few decades ago. I'll check this house out with F. later in the week.
We decide to explore broadening our horizons, and head to Richmond to check out a listing I saw - we find a little neighborhood called Clinton Hill, and the ex-cop Husband is surprisingly charmed. We get out of the car and walk around the block, and are pleased by the houses and their well-kept yards. And the Husband is intrigued by this listing, as the house looks big, and has one of his most favorite features...a double garage. Another one to put on my list for F.
We come home and spend some time on the City of Richmond website, checking out their crime map and stats. The Husband decides that if we are seriously interested, he'll go down to the police station and have a chat about neighborhoods.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Making Tweaks
Some of the earliest houses we bid on back in August are closing now, so we can see the details of what offers beat ours. The one that needed serious cleaning after horrific tenants - we'd bid $380K with $15K back in closing costs; the house closed at $377K, nothing back, and inspection waived. There was a huge tree growing under the patio that had buckled the concrete, headed for the foundation, and they waived inspection?
I review with F., making sure I'm clear on the difference between waiving inspection (which means you take the house with all its faults, big or little) and "as is," (meaning you can still inspect, but you give up your right to negotiate if something big is wrong - and most importantly, if something big is wrong, you can withdraw your offer). I don't think we'll ever be desperate enough to waive inspection, though we will start considering adding "as is" to our offers, since we're seeing that on most of our competitors' offers.
The Husband owned a house years ago in Missouri, and this is not the way the world worked there. I'm finding it difficult to stir up enthusiasm to look at any houses this week. Cynicism reigns supreme.
I review with F., making sure I'm clear on the difference between waiving inspection (which means you take the house with all its faults, big or little) and "as is," (meaning you can still inspect, but you give up your right to negotiate if something big is wrong - and most importantly, if something big is wrong, you can withdraw your offer). I don't think we'll ever be desperate enough to waive inspection, though we will start considering adding "as is" to our offers, since we're seeing that on most of our competitors' offers.
The Husband owned a house years ago in Missouri, and this is not the way the world worked there. I'm finding it difficult to stir up enthusiasm to look at any houses this week. Cynicism reigns supreme.
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