Folly #12 Continues

Part 2 of social impact real estate with a single rental property.

A few weeks ago I shared a personal story about a property I bought 20 years ago. I’d been trying to figure out how it could be part of my philanthropy, in this case as affordable, longterm housing. (And on the day following The Daily podcast on my former home town as a poster child for unaffordable housing this seems, well, timely.) So here’s an update…

I decided to keep the house. I just couldn’t bear to sell it and watch it become a vacation home. If I couldn’t afford to rent it below market, then the next best thing would be to fix it up and provide a beautiful home for people who work in the community. At least then two rental units would continue to be available to locals.

I’ve learned the fine art of asking for help – which has taken a very, very long time to learn – and a friend gave me a loan to fund the repairs. Lucky. Grateful. I’m also so appreciative of the many folks on Craigslist who sold me beautiful things at amazing prices: faucets, incredibly cool vanity (thank you Vasili), medicine cabinet, floor tile.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

I started with paint and new carpet, and lived at the house for 2 weeks as it transformed. (Btw, this is the first time in my life that I have not painted the inside of my own home. But at 59, I’ve made a pact with my partner not to climb tall ladders. And the 2-story ceilings meant lots of painting on ladders.) I worked out of the house during the day and slept there at night. I brought the painters lunch each day. I thanked them continually for the amazing work they did.

Next up were long overdue repairs to faucets and fixtures and lights. I asked around to learn who the local plumbers and electricians were. In the past, it was always an emergency and I took the most expedient route, but not the best one. This time I did it right. Turns out (no surprise) that the local guys all work together. The septic guy referred me to a plumber. The plumber referred me to a roofer, electrician and contractor. And so it goes.

I honored the house. Cooked in it. Woke up to sunrises streaming into the bedroom. Enjoyed it. Resolved to fix what didn’t work right and make it a special space.

The plumber told me what faucet I needed to replace the ancient one on the beautiful claw foot tub. I ordered it; he installed it. Then we discovered that the kitchen faucet was toast. With no kitchen sink, that new tub faucet came in handy! I may not have produced a meal worthy of Kramer, but I did do some creative dishwashing.

Putting the new faucet to work in unexpected ways. Is this what they mean by glamping?

I added a long overdue fan in a bathroom. Replaced ceiling heaters that had long ago stopped working. Got rid of hopelessly stained toilets, which meant putting in low-flow replacements and exposing the bathroom floor – in all it’s dirty linoleum glory. So in the home stretch, I decided to redo the floor and paint to brighten it all up. After all, everyone said tiling was easy.

Haha.

Makes me want to paraphrase a scene in When Harry Met Sally. I’ll have what they’re having.

I can honestly say that I have never worked so hard in my life. Everything I had to learn took 10 times the amount of time I thought it would. I’m usually a quick study, but day after day I had to triage priorities because I wasn’t getting things done as fast as I wanted. Honestly, it brought back memories of crash studying for finals – that constant feeling that “I’ll never get it done” but I have to so I’ll just “push on through.” I was always asking, what’s my Plan B? This isn’t going to happen in time, so what then??

I learned that I must be an absolutely terrible measurer. (Which is funny, because I’ve always loved math.) How else could it have taken me an entire day to figure out how to lay the HardieBacker subfloor in a way that fit the bathroom? My hands hurt. My back hurt. A bath never felt so good.

My daughter asked me, "Which is the before and which is after?" I briefly disowned her. (And the "tile like" blue linoleum squares were loose and icky, even though they look ok here.)

But it got done. The house looks beautiful. I learned what it’s like to live there. And I’m blessed that it’s rented: amazing people live there now.

So what am I learning?

• I’m not sure I was doing anyone any favors by renting the house at a low price and not dealing with the maintenance. It took a long time, but I finally honored the house. I learned what it was like to live there, and what it needed to be a nice place to live.

• As with all philanthropy, I learned the importance of relationships. The guys (and they all were – where are the tradeswomen in West Marin?) did an incredible job. They were a pleasure to work with in every way.

• There is no substitute for showing up. I was there. Every day. Being on site helped me build relationships and learn. One guy loaned me his tile saw. Another loaned me his circular saw so I could cut the bathroom door down for the raised tile floor.

I’ve learned that I can figure this out.

Clearly this is not a scalable model. For someone who has rentals as an investment strategy, you can’t live in them all. But this was personal. It’s an asset I have that I want to use to serve others. If I just wanted to cash out, I would have sold it. But that wasn’t consisted with my values.

The house is rented for a year. I hope it works and the tenants love it. If not, I will be intentional about making things right for them. Or I will reassess next January.