Tennis, Anyone?

Newsflash ... This was written in December of last year

As of the 16th of this month, Randy and I will no longer be land barons or landlords.  Truthfully, we haven't been landlords since Cristy and family moved out of the Plano house last June.  We are now ever so grateful to be ending this year with a respectable amount of mortgage payments.

Ein.

Uno.

One.

Our first pool party - and we hadn't even moved in yet!

After what seemed to be an eternity, the sale on the Plano house has closed.  Thank you, God.  Actually, it was only up for sale for a little less than three months before we received an offer on it.  Not bad in 'this economy'.

Still, it bears repeating.

Thank you, God.

Selling a house is awful.  It didn't help that the house is in Texas and Randy and I are in Mountain Home (R-Can-Sauce, not Idaho).  Thank goodness for our dear friend, Lori, who also is our real estate agent.  Her help got us through some serious hair-pulling frustration.

I can honestly say that I hate selling a house.  I am not even going to pretend that an 'immensely dislike' will work here 'cause the word 'hate' is more appropriate.

Firstly, there is the parade of people going through your (former) home and making sure that you know exactly what they don't like about it ...

Before we moved into the house in 2006, we had to have some wild wall papering removed from each bathroom and the kitchen.

... Too much tile ...

... Don't like the color of tile ...

... The pool is too small ...

... The landscaping in the backyard is awful ...
  (the landscaping is very nice, thank you very much!)

... Don't like the fence ...

... Not enough tile ...

... The kitchen is ...

Oh, never mind.

My 47th birthday celebration.

Of course, Randy and I considered making some updates, but Lori told us that no matter what we did, sure 'nough there would be someone that had a problem with what we changed and would have wanted us to change it back.

Nextly, you get an offer, which is only the first step in a long and trying ordeal to closing.  The offer is the easy part.  We then had to get through the inspection and the appraisal.

Randy so hates the inspectors.  My husband, the nicest, most understanding and compassionate person in the world, hates home inspectors.  One of dumb things that this inspector said was that the pool equipment was too loud.  Too loud compared to what?  Then we found that 'someone' had opened the oven doors while simultaneously pushing the 'clean' button and managed to blow up the double ovens.  Which we then had to get repaired.  Just how on earth does something like that happen?

Father's Day when Cristy, Shaun and the kids were in residence.

Here we are, the long awaited day of closing.  It has apparently dawned on the title company the day before closing that we live in Arkansas, not in Texas.  It is just not good enough for them to email the papers to us, have us print them out and take them to our bank to have them notarized, and then we could overnight the papers back to the title company.  We have done many times before.

Nope.  Because of all the fraud involved in home mortgages the past couple of years, the title company has instituted a policy where a title company-approved mobile notary has to hand deliver the papers to us for signing.

Take a guess who pays for this service.

We live in the Ozark mountains, well away from a metropolis of any size.  Let me tell you, it wasn't that easy for the title company to find that special mobile notary.  I think out of desperation, someone finally looked up a notary in the Mountain Home phone book and waived their magic wand at her through the phone, thus anointing her 'title company approved'.

I just counted my blessing that they didn't line up a mobile notary from Mountain Home, Idaho.

After many emails and phone calls back and forth between us, Lori, the title company and the title company approved company that finds the 'mobile' notaries, Randy and I finally was put in touch with the person in Mountain Home who would be our notary for the transaction.

By this time, it was getting late in the day and we were up against the clock in getting the paperwork to FedEx so it could be returned to the title company in time for closing.  Since the notary's home was easier to find than our home, Randy and I opted to go to her home.

Oh.  My.  Goodness.

Our first Texas snow!

What an uncomfortable and unprofessional experience.  The tone was set when the door was answered by a very unhappy and angry shirtless older man.

It just went downhill from there.  The notary was rude and unorganized.  The 'sun' room she used as an office was filthy.  Cigarette smoke permeated both Randy and I for the short time we were there.  Needless to say, we were not at all happy that our delicate and private personal information was in the hands of someone that we had no clue of who they were nor what they would do with it.

Rest assured, I did not mince words in the call that I made to the title company on the way home.

I won't go into the fees the title company charged us.  At least the fee for the mobile notary was waived.

What a racket.  That's what it boils down to.  A racket.  With the decline of home sales, money has to be recouped in some way.  It's done by all the stupid an asinine fees that you get charged.

Lord, help me ... I never want to sell a home again.

On that happy note ...

Have the BEST day ever!

~ Dorothy