I've complained here before about the two properties on either side of us that are in the foreclosure process. I've mentioned that we would love to have the smaller of the two places, the one northeast of us. We'd like it mainly because of the fine pole barn, the door of which practically opens up on our property. That's how close it is.
The guy who is going to be fixing all the damage in the other neighboring house, the one on the west, came here looking for information about that property. He has the option of either doing the repairs for the bank (to the tune of many thousands of dollars) so they can sell it, or buying it himself, to fix and resell. He buys foreclosed properties all the time, does repair, and "turns them around" as he calls it. This is a man we've known for years. In fact, fifty years ago my mother was his mother's Avon lady.
Charlie told us step-by-step exactly what we needed to know about buying such a property, and who we need to talk to. The first step, he said, is to wait for it to sell on the courthouse steps.
"How do you know when that's going to happen?"
"You watch the Odessan," he answered. "There will be a notice in the paper that has to run for three or four weeks."
I mentioned in yesterdays ramble that I had made out a check to subscribe to the Odessan after three years of doing without it. In fact, the addressed, stamped envelope containing the check was at Charlie's elbow as he spoke with us.
We do not intend to borrow money to buy a place we don't need. If you knew the total amount we have in various savings accounts, you would laugh at us for even thinking of purchasing any sort of property for that pitiful amount. I don't look for it to happen.
But if it does, it wouldn't be the first time we've been surprised by circumstances.