Ah, the joys of being a relative novice in the world of real estate. When one has a prospective client, no matter how far away, one jumps in her car and races toward a face-to-face meeting, in the hopes of turning it into real business. I made the appointment on Friday for a coffee meeting this morning out in Greeley. I dragged my groggy self out of bed, showered, dressed cute but not fussy, and had a cup of coffee so that I'd be alert enough to drive 45 minutes to have another cup of coffee. I sat in the chair that was being blasted with the smallest percentage of blistering sunshine (yes, I'm overly sensitive, I admit), and I waited. I waited for 10 minutes before I started texting my family, trying to stave off boredom. Another 5 minutes and I texted my contact, asking as politely as I could whether he was going to show up. He forgot and was on his way across the northern border to Wyoming. Well, crap. I made sure he was aware of the email I sent him last night, got myself a chili mocha, and headed back home.
I had more business to take care of once I got here. I set up a tour for a new person to see a foreclosed property I have seen many times from the highway, and wondered about every time I drove past. This place was devastated by the 2013 flood, and has been uninhabited -- uninhabitable that is -- ever since. The county has placed significant restrictions on rebuilding in this flood plain, right along the north St Vrain river, and getting permits to build here will be a huge obstacle. Homeowners insurance is going to be tricky too. Not sure whether we'll move forward on this or not. The location is gorgeous, but the structure is a wreck. We wandered around it for half an hour playing Forensic Real Estate Agents and Clients (more fun than Cops and Robbers), trying to piece together exactly what was going on with this house before the floods. We left thinking it might have had a little "illegal duplex" action in progress. The electrical panel was its own kind of scary monster, and I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to see daylight along the floor in the bedrooms. I had a whole lot of fun touring the property. Who knows whether we'll be writing an offer to take it from the bank? Depends on what the county says about permits, I'm sure.
On my way back, Mr X and I grabbed some pumpkins from a local market, and came back hoping for a parade of children seeking bags of sugar to come by the house this evening. He got a big carving pumpkin that he turned into a pirate, and I bought a fancy pale green one that will be soup in a few days. I dragged out last year's costume (Fudge's football jersey from Key & Peele's East-West bowl), and Mr X rummaged through old clothes he'd left here months ago. He made himself look like a stuffed scarecrow, intending to startle kids who didn't realize that it was a real guy inside the costume, and I sat out with the candy pretending that I was alone, playing on my iPad, not talking to the scarecrow next to me. Very few houses on our block seemed to be giving out candy, and very few kids dressed up and tried to collect it. Of the maybe 11 or 12 kids who came to my porch, more than half recognized that he was real before he moved or made noise. This trick was a whole lot more fun 10-15 years ago, when we lived on air force bases and had waves and waves of kids coming into our yard. I miss the good old days sometimes.
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