Of tenants, trouble-makers and troglodytes.
On an early August morning, I get a call at work from Sue. She says: "I just got an interesting call." I say, "interesting is a loaded word."
One of the locals living near abouts our rental property in Washington went to the trouble to look us up on the county property tax rolls and track down our home phone number. The caller asked Sue, if she knew what was going on on our property? Pray tell - what are you trying to say? Well, they wanted to let us know that our property had become the venue for large raucous gatherings of party-goers who raced their dirt bikes and ATV's in our back forty into the small hours of the morning. Fire arms were discharged into the night and rumor had it that mayhem and immorality abounded amongst the revelers and occupants of the place. Our response - The heck you say!
"Oh yes", we are assured. And there is more to come...
Later we were supplied with a Twitter link that proudly advertised a 'fat ass' party at our address along with the promise to torch a car in our back pasture. The tenant also posts his life goals and ambitions by proclaiming, "I like to fuck shit up". I am thinking that that is my stuff that he is fricking up. Am I right?
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We sent our property manager out to take a look and report back. The report was not good. The property was piled with trash, some hard-living had gone on inside the house. The manager told the tenant that she would return in 48 hours for an inspection of the entire property.
Come Saturday, she arrived with two burly "mountain men" escorts to check out our property. The tenant was either not home or did not answer the door... Hmmm. So interior inspection was not conducted. She found the charred chassis had been dragged out of the back forty and dumped with another burned car and a couple of dead cars near the house. Evidence suggested that a marijuana growing operation was planned for the woods on our estate and an infestation of squatters was found to be living on our land down by the creek. Needless to say, we were not pleased with the report we received and multiple violation of the lease. After the poor report, we had our manager give notice that they had another 48 hours to get the place back to an acceptable condition. Unfortunately that did not happen. Tenants were given notice they had 20 days to vacate the premises.
It looks like my Oktoberfest involves travel to the Great Northwest, by plane or car, and some days invested in cleaning up the land and house and repairing the place for some new tenants ASAP.
Trouble in paradise, our bucolic little homestead nestled under old growth firs along the Pilchuck Creek, with an old orchard swept up in spreading grass giving way to peacefully wooded land has been savaged. So sorry to see what is ours and lent in good faith, become an encampment for those with no other purpose that to 'fuck shit up'. In the end, that which you mess up comes back on you. What you enjoyed messing up turns out to actually be your own life. A life messed up royally. Am I right? Of course I am.
On an early August morning, I get a call at work from Sue. She says: "I just got an interesting call." I say, "interesting is a loaded word."
One of the locals living near abouts our rental property in Washington went to the trouble to look us up on the county property tax rolls and track down our home phone number. The caller asked Sue, if she knew what was going on on our property? Pray tell - what are you trying to say? Well, they wanted to let us know that our property had become the venue for large raucous gatherings of party-goers who raced their dirt bikes and ATV's in our back forty into the small hours of the morning. Fire arms were discharged into the night and rumor had it that mayhem and immorality abounded amongst the revelers and occupants of the place. Our response - The heck you say!
"Oh yes", we are assured. And there is more to come...
Later we were supplied with a Twitter link that proudly advertised a 'fat ass' party at our address along with the promise to torch a car in our back pasture. The tenant also posts his life goals and ambitions by proclaiming, "I like to fuck shit up". I am thinking that that is my stuff that he is fricking up. Am I right?
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| Social Media Post of Vehicle Arson on our Land Is there a problem here? |
We sent our property manager out to take a look and report back. The report was not good. The property was piled with trash, some hard-living had gone on inside the house. The manager told the tenant that she would return in 48 hours for an inspection of the entire property.
Come Saturday, she arrived with two burly "mountain men" escorts to check out our property. The tenant was either not home or did not answer the door... Hmmm. So interior inspection was not conducted. She found the charred chassis had been dragged out of the back forty and dumped with another burned car and a couple of dead cars near the house. Evidence suggested that a marijuana growing operation was planned for the woods on our estate and an infestation of squatters was found to be living on our land down by the creek. Needless to say, we were not pleased with the report we received and multiple violation of the lease. After the poor report, we had our manager give notice that they had another 48 hours to get the place back to an acceptable condition. Unfortunately that did not happen. Tenants were given notice they had 20 days to vacate the premises.
It looks like my Oktoberfest involves travel to the Great Northwest, by plane or car, and some days invested in cleaning up the land and house and repairing the place for some new tenants ASAP.
Trouble in paradise, our bucolic little homestead nestled under old growth firs along the Pilchuck Creek, with an old orchard swept up in spreading grass giving way to peacefully wooded land has been savaged. So sorry to see what is ours and lent in good faith, become an encampment for those with no other purpose that to 'fuck shit up'. In the end, that which you mess up comes back on you. What you enjoyed messing up turns out to actually be your own life. A life messed up royally. Am I right? Of course I am.
