Many people have asked me in the last few months/years, "Uh, so yea, what happened to the house?"
When Jake and I decided to separate, he was already packing for a move to the West coast in less a month. I was the first to ask the $95 thousand dollar question: "Uh, so what are we going to do with the house?"
I went to my bank and sat across from the very nice man who originally gave me the mortgage, getting various options for how to deal with the house that had been dumped on my lap. He looked at me with sad eyes, nervously wringing his hands. He said that he felt really bad about the situation, that it was too bad that I couldn't go back and choose not to buy the house. I laughed and told him that I had learned a lot of life lessons in the previous year, and if I could go back and change things, buying the house wouldn't be the only thing I would have changed.
The options were few, and none were a pleasant solution.
- Option 1: Let Jake keep the house
As Jake packed his books, he made it very clear that he was planning a new life on the West coast, and had no intentions of maintaining any connections here. He was leaving, and did not want to be stuck with the house.
- Option 2: Keep the house and live in it
There were a few things I learned in my time of living in the Wicklow house. I had made a rather poor decision in buying a house that had a slowly dying roof and structural issues. I also learned that I was significantly lacking the knowledge/resources/energy/time to maintain a house in that condition, let alone repair it. I too was starting a new life and did not want the weight of the old one dragging behind me.
- Option 3: Rent the house
Renting was a legal impossibility and not considered. In order for the house to be rented, it would have to be significantly improved to meet rental code, along with added financial permits and inspections. Even if I was able to jump those hurdles on my own, our city passed a rental ordinance banning any new rental property within 300 feet of an existing rental property. Both of the houses next door were licensed as rental properties - no matter how creative with a tape measure I got, I could only claim that I was 15 feet from the nearest rental.
- Option 4: Sell the house
An ideal situation would be to quickly sell the house for the total amount of the remaining mortgage, allowing both of us to move on. However, in the current housing market, a quick sale of any home would be doubtful, let alone a house that needed extensive work. Selling it in the condition it was in for the amount we needed was an impossibility. That particular (not so great) neighborhood had about 20 houses with dusty "For Sale" signs that had prices lower than the Wicklow house.
- Option 5: Give up on the house (foreclosure)
Both of us considered foreclosure as a last chance, but it always hovered off in the horizon as possibility.
Jake made it clear that he was moving and would not be able to assist in improvement, or provide significant financial assistance. He was effectively abandoning the house to me. In a normal divorce, receiving the house is a large asset to be fought for. In this divorce, it was the burden that all tried to avoid. Both of us wanted the whole situation to be resolved as quickly as possible.
If both of us had to face a foreclosure, we would not be affected evenly. I had been working on getting my credit rating back after a time of my financial mismanagement. My rating was fairly high, and I was able to obtain the mortgage using my credit rating alone, which was fortune, as Jake's credit rating was significantly worse.
To take a callous view of the situation, I knew that if Jake took the Wicklow house into his possession, then foreclosed on it, his credit rating would probably not get much worse that it was. I offered him a simple business deal: if he were to take ownership of the house, I would forgive the several thousand dollars that he owed me. Our financial ties would be cut - I wouldn't have to worry about the house, and he wouldn't have to spend years paying me back. He said he would rather pay me back the money he owed me, and force both of us to face the effects of a foreclosure.
So we decided to go with option 4 - sell the house. I went in with a realtor, came up with a plan for the quickest/easiest/cheapest improvements that I could make in order to have a chance of the house selling. With a minuscule budget and a hap-hazard plan, I bought some some paint and put on my work gloves. Bryan and other friends helped get the house looking somewhat nice, and I honestly began to think I had a chance of selling it for what it was worth.
Then came winter.
The heat in the Wicklow house was set just warm enough to keep the pipes from freezing, and I was trying to make the fuel oil last until payday. Unfortunately, the local weather had a different idea and hit us with a long cold spell. When I got down to the house to check on the fuel, I found an empty tank, a cold house, and frozen water pipes. I turned off the water main and went home, emailed Jake to let him know the situation, and tried to figure out my next move.
A few days later, I get an email back from Jake saying that he sent his brothers down to the house to turn the water main back on, and everything should be fine.
Um... you did what?!?
Yes, leaving the water running to keep the pipes from freezing is a
good thing, but letting water run through possibly damaged pipes is a very, very
bad thing.
So I'm trying to come up with some analogy where the preventative medicine is the worst possible treatment. The only thing I was able to come up with was telling a patient to exercise to improve their heart, then telling them to jump on a treadmill when they're having a heart attack. If you can think of anything else, feel free to add a comment!
Anyway, putting away the analogies and back into real life...
After I get the email from Jake telling me everything would be ok, I grabbed my house keys and tentatively opened the front door. As soon as I opened the door, I gave up on the idea of selling Wicklow house.
When I walked in, I found that water had been flowing through broken pipes for two days, and had caused massive destruction on every level of the house. The ceilings were disintegrating and falling down, the walls buckled with ice and water, the floors were covered in standing water - the house was beyond any repair that I could possibly make.
The frosty front door
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Ice hiding behind the new paint
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Brown "fluids" leaking from the waste stack
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A river of ice across the live electrical panel
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A volcano of ice flooding from the toilet
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I grabbed the construction supplies, closed the door on Wicklow house for the last time, and prepared for option #5: foreclosure.
MS. OLLIE
I was having a rather pleasant lunch with my mother, when she dropped this bomb "I know you write on your blog about me."
Yesterday, I found a dead squirrel in our front yard. He was lying under a tree, with a branch next to the prone body (as if he had been careless and trusted a weak branch to hold him, only to have it fling him to the ground.
As outlined in our divorce agreement, Jake has been slowly paying me back all the money he owes me. This last month however, he has paid several thousand dollars to me (almost half of the total he owed me). Now, I know this recent payment isn't his money. Our divorce paperwork required his pay stubs and monthly expenses - I know exactly how much he can and can't afford to give me. I'm guessing the money is coming from his current girlfriend. Part of me is tempted to warn her about the dangers of getting tangled in Jake's finances. Maybe give her the warning I never had.
