Puppies, paint and panic

1.  Puppies (aka DOGS)  I've had it.  The property manager and I never did get together to confront Courtney but I'm SO done.  Every time we're over there the dogs - the big dogs - are alone in the apartment, barking like crazy, clawing at the window.  There is big poop all over the little back yard that they've wire-tied together.  Now they've posted a "Beware Of Dog" sign. 

We had resolved that we would have to wait until we rented the vacant apartment next door before we started eviction notice on Courtney and Trinidad for their dog violation(s).  What to do?  We aren't getting enough income from the rented units to cover the expenses.  Do we evict a paying tenant?  AAARRRRGGGGHHHH.

2.  Paint:   We're working like crazy on Mom's house for the kids.  They're planning to move in asap, but target date is Feb 15.  Diego and I both took Thursday afternoon off work to work over there.  We taped and masked the ceiling and floors in prep for spraying drywall texture.  The sprayer must stay parallel to the wall - well that's just fine between 3-5 feet off the floor - but at floor level and ceiling level?  Squat, stand, reach, stand, squat, repeat.  Who needs Work Out West?

We vowed to spend Friday night doing nothing, but Saturday we were back at it.  We sprayed primer in the morning and paint in the afternoon.  Same technique for spraying paint:  squat, stand, reach - keep the sprayer parallel to the wall.  I was exhausted. 

What's left?  Bedroom ceiling trim, bedroom base moulding, fix acoustical ceiling tiles, closet shelves, install bi-fold closet door, repair carpet in bedroom and living room, build new counter top with new laminate, install new kitchen sink, paint second coat on dining room walls, and a few other things.  Individually each task isn't bad, but as a composite - Yikes!  None of this takes into account what the kids have on their own to-do list: grout tile back splash, finish final touches of paint on cabinets, install new cabinet pulls, replace cabinet doors paint living room, etc.,. etc,. etc.  Even after they move in they'll have a long to-do list. 

3.  Panic:  A new tenant moved into in the 8 plex this weekend - Thank God!  Wednesday night I had a dream that he backed out of the lease because he was told there was asbestos.  I woke up at 3:30 a.m. trying to decide if it was real or a dream and worried in a half-conscious state til morning.  Good grief! 

If You Give a Mouse a Cookie

If you give a mouse a cookie, the story goes, he will ask for a glass of milk.  If you allow a tenant one small, 10# dog, he will bring in a 40# dog, and then two.  It's true. 

In August, when Courtney signed the lease, she told the property manager she had a dog.  A small one.  We soon discovered it was a 40# black lab mix dog that BARKS!  Now we find Courtney has two dogs that bark in stereo.  We've actually known it for a month or so, but we haven't done anything proactive about it yet. 

Flash forward to today.  Chris, my son, was at the 4-plex painting one of the vacant units.  Courtney, who has been spying on Chris between the slats of the blinds for two days ran outside to tell him "you're going to have to replace the carpet, you know, because of the dog." 

He proceeded to tell her tenants were allowed one small, 10# dog and not two large dogs.  And if the carpets were damaged and needed to be replaced it would come out of her deposits.  "Oh no," she said, "I mean in this vacant unit.  Inez had a dog."  

A.  Inez did, in fact, have a dog.  For two months she had the tiniest chihuahua you ever saw. 
B.  There was very little 'evidence' left behind in her apartment.
C.  Where the heck does she come off "ratting out" Inez, when she has two dogs the size of Manhattan?

Chris called to tell me the story - and we chuckled.  But the big laugh came an hour later when the property manager emailed to tell me that Courtney called to say, "We had to get a (second) male dog because one of my husband's friends said he was going to come have sex with me."  (Cue to barf here. This is not a pretty picture)

The saga will continue tomorrow when the property manager and I confront Courtney.

You couldn't make this stuff up!

The (undesired) Return of the Evicted

It's been about 2 months since Vicky was evicted. (Read below for full story)  She was two, three ... I lost count ... months behind in her rent.  Then, standing before a judge, she had the nerve to lie to him and tell him that our records were faulty and that she should be allowed to stay.  But it's all behind us now.  I thought.

Today it was snowing and the temperatures are going to be in the single digits this week so we stopped by the 8 plex to check on the boiler .  Julie was shoveling the show - hallelujah!  Here's my conversation with her:

Julie:  Hey, remember that girl who lived upstairs?  (Vicky)  She came by here the other day asking where your mom lives.  She said she wants to move back in here.  She said she didn't want to talk to Jana (our property manager), but wanted to talk directly to your mom. 

Me:  WHAT?  There is no way.

Julie:  Yea, I told her "after all you did to them and you owed them so much money?  You need to leave them alone."

Ya think?  After all her lies, I am done dealing with her. 

Vicki is street smart and a good liar and great at manipulation.  However, I'm confident that Mom won't give her the time of day. She'll refer her to The property manager.  But I'm still amazed at her nerve.  Either she is the most nervy person I've known, or she's the most delusional.  I'm not sure which!

A story of two phone calls (okay, three phone calls)

Last month Courtney called to say her bathtub was clogged.  Friday she called again; the bathtub is clogged.  She tells me that the last time the plumber dug out a bunch of rubber bands.   WHAT?  I'm thinking that's not my problem - but it is. 

Diego and I were right in the middle of pulling wire for new outlets at my mom's house and really didn't want to drop everything go clear out her drain.  So I asked our wonderful property manager to call a plumber.  It will probably result in a $100 after-hours call (New Year's Eve and they'd already gone home).   Plus, if it turns out to be clogged with their own stuff (rubberbands??), then the property manager will bill them for the call. 

Then, today I had two voice mails from Courtney.  The first said that the power was out in the building but they had called Excel.  The secon call said that the power was back on.  Now those are the kind of calls I don't mind getting on a Sunday morning.