More house-hunting-hell today and this week. We were referred to an agent who is something of an expert in foreclosed properties, and while I’m not one to gleefully profit from the misery of others, she pointed out to me that these properties are owned by the bank now and the banks are taking pretty much anything they can get. So, we’ve set Saturday aside to go look at scads of houses that were too much House for people to hold onto.
(I’m not an expert on the whole housing market crash, or the subprime fiasco. In fact I’m really not sure just what a subprime mortgage is, to be honest. Every time I’ve purchased a house it’s been a fairly straightforward transaction wherein we borrowed a sum of money at a certain interest rate and promised to pay the bank or mortgage holder x amount of dollars every month, plus extra thrown in for taxes and insurance.)
We went for a second look at a house today. Beautiful house, newly renovated after Katrina damage, in a lovely wooded neighborhood on a large lot. Priced fairly low because the owner is ill and needs to relocate. Unfortunately there are two other people with offers ahead of us, so I don’t think we’ll be getting that house. However, since we now have an actual contract on our house we’ve become something of a hot commodity with real estate agents. We are People Who Can Buy, not just People Who Want To Buy, and in this market we are Gold. So I keep telling myself that we’re in a good position: we have a buyer for our house, and a crappy housing market means that as a buyer we should be able to pick something up that will climb in value once the market recovers.
Ugh. I need my daughter to do something adorable again. Even I’m sick of hearing about my search for a house.
And, as much as you dislike the idea (and I don’t blame you) you DO have a “last resort” temporary place available.
Sub-prime mortgages: interest rate (and payments) are way low for the first three or so years, then the “real” rate kicks in, payments zoom, and the schmucks can’t meet the payments. I guess the slick talkers made it sound fabulous and the schmucks didn’t listen to the “after x years the real interest rate kicks in” part of the selling spiel.
The financial institutions didn’t keep the loans, but “sold” them and they got bundled into financial “seals” that other get-rich-quick people bought. After that, I sort of lose track. Of course, the probability is high that the mortgagee probably set aside the knowledge that in X years his payment would jump. (I hear all about this on NPR driving home.)
(The ABCs of credit and borrowing should be a required course in high school.)
2007
mom