Coffee heat rising

Houses, Houses, Houses….

Checked with another Realtor by way of trying to track down a place that might appeal enough to lure me out of the Funny Farm — and thereby take me and Ruby out of the way of any harm Tony and his tribe plan to inflict on our neighborhood.

As usual whenever I peruse the real estate offerings in Phoenix, I see a couple of places that might be OK and a whole lot of places that are off-the-charts not OK.

The problem is, my current house is so close to perfect for my needs and my tastes that rather little appeals. Uhm…make that “rather little” a “nothing.” Seriously: the house has ruined me for the real estate market!

Willo, a historic district in the central part of the city, is the home of the first house my husband and I lived in. We would still be there if we hadn’t had a kid (couldn’t put him in the public schools there) and the crime rate. And, after they installed a fire station a block away, the spectacular noise level.

Here’s a house in Willo that’s similar in style to ours, though significantly smaller. The place was not a tract in the sense of modern ticky-tacky — every house was different. This sorta Santa Barbara Spanish look was one of several very different styles of architecture that inhabited the place.

Hmmmm…$1,700,000 for an apartment on Central Avenue. Eight hundred seventy-five K for a modernized house that looks about as inviting as a prison block.

Here’s this pleasant-looking place, all decked out in the latest shade of penitentiary gray. It has only one serious drawback, to my taste: it’s right on Seventh Avenue, one of the busiest commuter thoroughfares in the city! That may explain the bargain price of a mere 530 grand.

Seriously. When you look at this stuff — and those brain-banging prices! — you come to suspect I’ve got the best of all possible worlds in this house. It has all the features of the best of the offerings on the market and none of the disadvantages. It’s paid for.

And you may be darned sure I didn’t pay five or six hundred thousand bucks for it! 😀

 

2 thoughts on “Houses, Houses, Houses….”

  1. Can I just suggest that if this foray into real estate research is more than just playing around with the idea, that you think of being near your son’s location? He’s most likely your final safety net if every other self-care or paid-care option falls through due to illness/weather/etc. If you’re physically nearby (20 min travel time, max), your ability to stretch your time in your own place is going to go up.

    Speaking as the adult child of a now extremely frail parent: the more you can do to set things up now so that it’s easy for him to step in when needed, the better it will be. My mother chose a post-retirement home someplace that’s physically far from us, and it’s turning into a slow-moving disaster.

    • This is something to think about. And actually, one of the Funny Farm’s attributes is that it’s about 10 minutes (max) from the kid’s place.

      He would probably pack up and move to Timbuktu if his mutther suddenly surfaced down the street. 😀 But y’know…as a practical matter, if one of us were to move to get ourselves located closer to each other, it would make better sense for him to move up here than for me to move in his direction. The houses in his neighborhood were built for swamp cooling and are almost impossible to air-condition in an Arizona summer. The houses up here are newer, better built, better insulated, and, while bordered by Conduit of Blight Blvd., are further away from the center of hard drug sales. Crime is big bidness here, of course, but nothing like it is in the area to the west of his neighborhood.

      Central Phoenix is a strange patchwork of districts, with upscale “vintage” neighborhoods bordered by dangerous drug slums, and now interspersed with vibrant commercial/residential districts that blend office mid- and high-rises with swell new apartment buildings. Unless you move to North Scottsdale or Paradise Valley (or Sun City!), you can’t really get away from at least some degree of blight and crime. I’m not especially fazed by that kind of thing, because I’ve lived with it all my adult life. But I will say…hmmm…given a choice of bordering slums, I’ll take the drug-infested apartments on the other side of Conduit of Blight over the same plus the commercial areas plus the druglords’ territory around 19th Ave and Camelback….which is the case for his neighborhood.

      But really: for what I’ve paid for this house — the previous owners practically gave it away, compared to what it’s worth now — it makes more sense to pay attention to the motto that you should never back down to a bully. Moving away from this house indeed may cause more harm than good for me.

      Tony, my man: Make. My Day. 😉

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