7/8/21
Museum of Norman Traditions and Arts – Château de Martainville
Photos are out of the order of the experience : /
7/7/21
Your Daily Golden Moment
Crashing hard on her favorite pillow after eating a container of frozen yogurt.
7/6/21
7/5/21
Good & Bad Tenants then AirBnB
Property management (among other roles in life) for 12 years before buying rental property and thinking all tenants would be like me.
Haha.
The worst were Michael Rancid and Emily Shita. Both were self absorbed, glorified teenagers.
One had the loudness of a mockingbird. The other constantly cried.
Both were boorish, hoosiers with degrees but dumb as dirt and filthy people.
Shita resided in her own filth. A pot smoking, paranoid lunatic who straight up told me she was 'nuts' but only after she moved in!
Rancid caused 3K in damage. Grateful he's long gone and now on Maple.
Shita was always in crisis having been raised in a Christian Fundie home. During high school she realized it was all 'crazy talk' and good for her but didn't dare tell her trumper 'rents she'd seen the light. Which tends to prevent one from maturity.
Rancid clogged the toilet weekly.
Shita cried a river.
But then there was Maureen! My most fun tenant, an artist, a tattooer, and an intelligent and hilarious woman with a degree in sculpture.
She was here for years until she bought a home.
I see her when she comes to town.
Airbnb was fabulous with *fascinating* people: professional artists, visiting Docs, couples on vacation, and a lot of University faculty. My AirBnB profile was such that people of color and LGBT knew they were welcome and safe here. It was wonderful hosting! The income from it was amazing at 120 weeknights and 160 on the weekends. After a year I decided I was no longer willing to clean the space every week. And truly, how much money does one need?
Now it is pointless to have a tenant.
We share three houses and yet I still sometimes tour others.
While I'd love a Charles King house I'm never, ever moving.
Also, there's knowing that my grandparents and parents walked down my street before I landed here. 100 year ago my grandfather, a very young man, was thinking he would open a bike shop on Morgan Ford.
I'd forgotten for a minute that one of the tings Mike Rancid did was to glue framed photos to the plaster walls. Note the shattered plaster where he drove nails. He also drove nails into the new kitchen floor.
But this MFer wasn't as crazy as Shita!
Haha.
The worst were Michael Rancid and Emily Shita. Both were self absorbed, glorified teenagers.
One had the loudness of a mockingbird. The other constantly cried.
Both were boorish, hoosiers with degrees but dumb as dirt and filthy people.
Shita resided in her own filth. A pot smoking, paranoid lunatic who straight up told me she was 'nuts' but only after she moved in!
Rancid caused 3K in damage. Grateful he's long gone and now on Maple.
Shita was always in crisis having been raised in a Christian Fundie home. During high school she realized it was all 'crazy talk' and good for her but didn't dare tell her trumper 'rents she'd seen the light. Which tends to prevent one from maturity.
Rancid clogged the toilet weekly.
Shita cried a river.
But then there was Maureen! My most fun tenant, an artist, a tattooer, and an intelligent and hilarious woman with a degree in sculpture.
She was here for years until she bought a home.
I see her when she comes to town.
Airbnb was fabulous with *fascinating* people: professional artists, visiting Docs, couples on vacation, and a lot of University faculty. My AirBnB profile was such that people of color and LGBT knew they were welcome and safe here. It was wonderful hosting! The income from it was amazing at 120 weeknights and 160 on the weekends. After a year I decided I was no longer willing to clean the space every week. And truly, how much money does one need?
Now it is pointless to have a tenant.
We share three houses and yet I still sometimes tour others.
While I'd love a Charles King house I'm never, ever moving.
Also, there's knowing that my grandparents and parents walked down my street before I landed here. 100 year ago my grandfather, a very young man, was thinking he would open a bike shop on Morgan Ford.
I'd forgotten for a minute that one of the tings Mike Rancid did was to glue framed photos to the plaster walls. Note the shattered plaster where he drove nails. He also drove nails into the new kitchen floor.
But this MFer wasn't as crazy as Shita!
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