Even though it’s the same old birthday that happens every year, I don’t always plan something for it. Staying in Sacramento this year. This year is the birthday I was supposed to retire. About 10 years ago, I circled this date on my calendar and promised myself I would retire when I turned 66. Plans have a funny way of not always working out. For one thing, I’m married to a guy who is almost 11 years younger than me. At 55, he has no urge to retire. It’s all my fault anyway. I should not have urged him to get a job, and if I hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t have this problem right now.
My Hawaii neighbor did not like the people we bought our vacation house from. He probably doesn’t much like me, either. A couple of years ago, when I did the home inspection, I took my own advice that I give home buyers in Sacramento, and I went next door to talk to the neighbors before buying. He seemed a bit irritated and unwelcoming. He informed me that even though he should be retired, he is forced to work for a living. Like it’s my fault. And let’s just say he made it clear that he does not like the tourists on Ali’i Drive who mess up his driving time to work.
Part of my Sacramento real estate business involves working with older sellers such as those who hold title in family trusts, but every so often I run across a situation in which the seller has dementia. I closed a sale a few months ago for a seller with dementia. She died in the middle of escrow, too, and it was terribly hard on her family. Fortunately, she had named a successor trustee in her trust so her daughter could handle the sale of the home from beginning to end.
It was almost as though once she knew the home would be sold, she decided to give up. I got to meet her when I completed my agent visual inspection and spoke to her daughter about selling. She seemed vaguely aware I was there and at times did answer questions. However, her daughter said after we put the home on the market, she was no longer responsive. I hate to think that selling the home could have been the factor but when you live in a home for dozens of years, well, I’ll probably be that way at the end, too.
The first person I went to about this pair of kitties for adoption in Tahoe Park is a good friend who sells real estate in Wilton. Hey, I texted, you have 10 cats, what’s 2 more? But she wasn’t taking the bait. I guess there is a limit to how many cats a person can take care of in this world. My husband says that limit is three, which is why we don’t have more cats living the life of Riley in our house.
I could see myself someday like Mike Carroll’s wife on the island of Lanai in Hawaii. She started a Hawaiian cat rescue organization to adopt out and shelter stray cats and has been very successful. During my stopover visit to the Mike Carroll Art Gallery, while on my way to Vanuatu for vacation a few winters ago, Mike mentioned his wife’s group has become the number one tourist attraction on the island. I didn’t have a car, so I never saw it.
The last thing my husband said to me before I left Sacramento for my wor-cation in Big Island was he did not want to buy a house in Hawaii. I mentioned that I was meeting a broker I have come to know from an agent website, Active Rain, in Big Island to tour a few homes. I have never really looked at homes in Hawaii. Sure enough, we found the perfect Hawaiian home.
I did not force my husband to buy a house in Hawaii, in case that’s what some of you are thinking. First, I can’t force him to do anything, he is his own person. But I did present a compelling case for our buying this home. It’s a small cottage, a two bedroom, two bath, although for anybody wanting a home near the city like we do, there are not a lot of choices in the entry-level price range. Prices are going up in Hawaii now.