Corrected. Inspected. Neglected. Rejected. Dejected.
After this past year of craziness, which I've blogged incessantly about, I thought we were within spitting distance of selling our old house without any more mind-numbing obstacles.
Of course, that would not be the Pearson way.
So on Friday, my realtor calls in a panic, saying the buyers can't get insurance because there is no wind storm inspection report filed with the state.
I felt my ears burning, much like they burned when I couldn't get my FEMA money, much like they burned during the hassles of getting my home repaired, much like they burned when we moved into a house with far too many hidden surprises.
With closing set for Tuesday, I had seen the light at the end of the double-mortgage cave, only to see a boulder fall and block the exit at last minute.
Without the inspection, the buyers couldn't get insurance. And without insurance, the buyers simply couldn't buy. And the contract expires tomorrow.
I'd never received the papers on the windstorm inspection after last year's roof repairs. The contractor assured me several times that it had been done, and I should have followed up on that, gotten the paperwork and made sure that it had been filed with the state.
Also, I was ignorant about it factoring into the home sale.
With my stomach in a knot, I desperately tried to call the contractor. He didn't answer his cell or home phone numbers.
So I went to his house. His daughter answered the door.
"WHERE ARE YOUR PARENTS?" I asked.
"Mexico," she said.
< : - 0
I managed to get her mother's cell phone and contact the contractor in Mexico. Again, he assured me that the inspection had taken place, and all was well. However, he didn't have the inspector's contract information handy and said it would have to wait until Monday.
But with the Tuesday closing date looming, I could not wait.
Luckily, I managed to find an inspector who could check the roof today, and he came out bright and early.
And he found a problem.
Apparently, at least in Jefferson County, roofers are required to glue down the shingles along the roof's edge. The rest of the roof was not only fine but had six nails, instead of the required four, per shingle, which is a great thing. It's a sturdy roof.
However, no glue, no inspection pass.
Mercifully, the contractor was back in town and answering his cell phone. He said he would send a crew immediately to take care of the roof. Then the roof can pass inspection, the insurance company can get its paperwork, the buyers can get their insurance, and I can get this residential monkey off my back.
However, I'm fully prepared for more disaster and mayhem in the next 26 hours leading up to the closing time.
After all, that is the Pearson way.
Of course, that would not be the Pearson way.
So on Friday, my realtor calls in a panic, saying the buyers can't get insurance because there is no wind storm inspection report filed with the state.
I felt my ears burning, much like they burned when I couldn't get my FEMA money, much like they burned during the hassles of getting my home repaired, much like they burned when we moved into a house with far too many hidden surprises.
With closing set for Tuesday, I had seen the light at the end of the double-mortgage cave, only to see a boulder fall and block the exit at last minute.
Without the inspection, the buyers couldn't get insurance. And without insurance, the buyers simply couldn't buy. And the contract expires tomorrow.
I'd never received the papers on the windstorm inspection after last year's roof repairs. The contractor assured me several times that it had been done, and I should have followed up on that, gotten the paperwork and made sure that it had been filed with the state.
Also, I was ignorant about it factoring into the home sale.
With my stomach in a knot, I desperately tried to call the contractor. He didn't answer his cell or home phone numbers.
So I went to his house. His daughter answered the door.
"WHERE ARE YOUR PARENTS?" I asked.
"Mexico," she said.
< : - 0
I managed to get her mother's cell phone and contact the contractor in Mexico. Again, he assured me that the inspection had taken place, and all was well. However, he didn't have the inspector's contract information handy and said it would have to wait until Monday.
But with the Tuesday closing date looming, I could not wait.
Luckily, I managed to find an inspector who could check the roof today, and he came out bright and early.
And he found a problem.
Apparently, at least in Jefferson County, roofers are required to glue down the shingles along the roof's edge. The rest of the roof was not only fine but had six nails, instead of the required four, per shingle, which is a great thing. It's a sturdy roof.
However, no glue, no inspection pass.
Mercifully, the contractor was back in town and answering his cell phone. He said he would send a crew immediately to take care of the roof. Then the roof can pass inspection, the insurance company can get its paperwork, the buyers can get their insurance, and I can get this residential monkey off my back.
However, I'm fully prepared for more disaster and mayhem in the next 26 hours leading up to the closing time.
After all, that is the Pearson way.
posted by Brian Pearson at 11:01 AM
2 Comments:
How frustrating!! Wouldn't it be nice to know all those little details in advance? I lucked out on the roof stuff and have my windstorm certification. Now if I could only get the rest of the stuff finished and move back in.
Here's hoping no further gotchas pop up; however, isn't it standard operating procedure for any house sale? My prayers are with you.
I'm going to call the contractor today and have him make good on his word to reimburse me for the $150 worth of inspection excitement I had to endure.
Then I'm going to find out who the original inspector was and chew his ass a bit before I report him to the Better Business Bureau.
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