There’s nothing wrong with my current residence, other than some basic property maintenance that needs to be done. We had the roof replaced a few years ago with material that will outlast the millennials. The only crime around here is speeding. Nobody even poaches black (or red) raspberries or blackberries from their neighbor’s property, without first getting permission. My neighbors are all wonderful people.
I love how far the houses are apart, and the fact that there are no sidewalks. I love all the raspberries, blueberries, and blackberries that grow on my property with no help. Okay, a dose of Hollytone for the blueberries each Spring helps, but otherwise, they produce, and I harvest them. I love the kitchen garden we started years ago, which is our pride and joy for fresh eating and canning.
Yet, there’s a property I’ve had my eye on for some time that’s been on and off the market for a while, but at an offering price that was so ridiculously high that it was obvious the seller wouldn’t even consider a reasonable offer. Finally, it has been relisted at a price point that gives me some leeway for some serious bargaining. I’d never offer the listing price in this buyer’s market, even if I adored the place after I’d toured all of it — grounds, main house, guest house, barn, etc.
The property has many things going for it. It also has several things against it. In case we like it enough to put in an offer after we get the grand tour, I’ve got a few chips in my bargaining pocket.
Unfortunately, taking a closer look at the property will have to wait until some time in June. Pretty sure it won’t be snapped up by then, given its listing history.
If I end up hating the place, tant pis. En avant.
I would kill for some fresh raspberries and blackberries, and right now I’ve been craving rhubarb!
I’ve never grown rhubarb, but have started seeing it at my local farm market. Supposedly, like blackberries, once you put it in, it’s tough as nails, and hard to get rid of, if you later decide to move it, or dig it up for good.
When I was a kid, we visited my great-uncle George in Janesville. He served barbequed chicken and rhubarb pie. He must have used a boatload of sugar in that pie, because I loved it. By itself, it’s as sour as cranberries, but with tons of sugar, or some other sweet fruit like strawberries or apples, it’s palatable.
According to my next door neighbor, our blackberries were put in by the people who owned our house in the ’70s. Judging by the fruit produced, there are at least two varieties, none of which is one of the newer “thornless” hybrids. Harvesting those suckers means donning hazmat gear, but it’s worth the effort. We could easily dig up and take a dozen canes with us, and nobody would ever know they were missing from that bramble.
I’m pretty sure our black raspberries escaped cultivation at some point. They just pop up in the oddest places from year to year, including among our foundation plantings. We could easily dig up an entire patch, and it still wouldn’t kill them.
The biggest issue I can tell with the place I’ve got my eye on is a lack of landscaping and mature trees, compared to the neighboring ones. Fortunately, landscaping is a lot less expensive to remedy than hardscaping, and there are so many landscapers around here that getting competitive bids would be a breeze.
Next is the fact that the main house is a good 2000 sq. ft. smaller than the others on that street. That also means our heating bill would be lower than our neighbors’, unless we chose to also heat the guest house over the winter. Turn off the water supply in the guest house, winterize the pipes, and that won’t be necessary. Who’s going to visit us in the dead of winter, anyway (unless we invite them over for Christmas through New Year’s)? Besides, we could accommodate five or six guests in the main house without having to stash anyone in the guest house.
It also doesn’t have a pool, like every other house on the street does. Of course, that means one less maintenance expense vs. the neighbors.
We’d use the third buiilding as a machine shed to store the tractor, attachments, lawnmowers, snowblower, weed whacker, chainsaws, etc. Given the length of that driveway, though, we might decide to contract out the snow removal, or see if we can get the township to give us a permit to reroute the driveway around the other side of the duck pond, which would shorten it significantly.
Who knows? We may see the place in person, and decide no effin’ way. But, on paper, and in the photos (and bird’s eye map view), it looks really good. What’s not to like about being at the end of a long cul-de-sac with less than a dozen properties, all of which have double digit acreage?
my grandma’s neighbor had a rhubarb patch. She never did a thing with it and it came up every year with plenty of rhubarb for herself and enough for my grandma to snitch some for pies or crisps. Strawberries were always mixed in with it, and I never cared because I love strawberries too! LOL
I think I’ll have to hit the farmer’s market Friday for rhubarb and/or blackberry jam
Pie party at Rusty’s place!
zombie walk up to her front door, but instead of saying ‘braaaains’ we all say ‘piiiies’?
YESH!!!
…covered in berry guts so that we can walk among the shrubs unharmed.
I would recommend heavy duty rain gear that won’t snag and tear on the thorns. Then again, zombies shouldn’t have to worry about being torn to shreds, should they?
Hmm. This might be a case of Plan B being a better option. We did a drive-by of the place I mentioned, It’s farther out in the sticks than I thought it was, and with only 10 or so houses on the entire street, four of them have “for sale” signs out by the end of the driveway. It could be that people have been waiting for the market to pick up before selling and retiring to FL, but the market isn’t picking up. Granted, more houses go on the market in the spring than in the fall or winter, but so many on one street at the same time is suspicious.
Whatever the case, house #2 on my list has a much better location for us, with significantly lower property taxes. Less land, but larger house, with a huge solarium facing south, which most of my orchids would love. With a three car garage, we wouldn’t need a separate machine shed to store the landscaping stuff. Still plenty of acreage to put in berry patches, a kitchen garden, and have lots of sunny yard left.
Sounds like you’re decided on B. See, it was wise to save judgement until you did a drive-by. Suspicious, indeed, to see so many houses for sale in one spot. There’s got to be a reason for it.
…there’s a book in that.
Yeah, I’ve pretty much moved on from Plan A to Plan B. We can’t even take a look at the place until we get back from Minnesota, though. One thing in my bargaining pocket, if we decide we like it, is that it appears the current owners have already moved out. The pictures in the listing (which is less than a month old) are not completely devoid of furniture, but it’s obvious that most of it is gone.
Also, I can pay cash for the place, and don’t need a mortgage, which is a big incentive for the realtor to push the seller into contract, because it can’t fall through unless I die while it’s under contract. There’s always the lowball initial offer, the counter-offer, and the counter-counter-offer. Sometimes it goes back and forth more than twice, but that’s rare. I’ve never lost a house purchase, or sale, by not making a deal we both think is fair.
There was one time I had my realtor put out a lowball feeler to the seller’s realtor, who refused to return her calls for well over a month. Suddenly, my realtor got a call from the seller’s realtor, who wanted to know if I was still interested at the price I mentioned. By then, I had closed on this place. That place eventually sold for my feeler price, but in the meantime, it was vacant, and the seller had to foot the bill for utilities and property tax. Eh. Their problem, not mine.
My Plan C is to stay put. There’s no urgency to move. However, with so many houses now coming on the market, it’s to my advantage to trade up in a down market — but only if I see a place I really love.