'There's a lot of it about', says Mrs Jackson as she brings me another hot lemon and honey drink, with not a bun or cake in sight. That's not much consolation to me as I languish in my bed, with Copernicus my ever faithful hound curled up at my feet.
I've had this bad cold or 'man flu' as David at Moray Rentals calls it, for at least a week now. He brought me round his netbook and wirless card, so I could keep up to date on the Internet with the local property market and my blog of course.
Technology is marvellous, well it is to an old codger like me. From under my duck down duvet I managed to order Mrs Jackson a lovely bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolate truffles, (in the hope that she may share one or two with me).
I then took in the latest news, exchanged e-mails with my family in America. Viewed the live webcam at Bondi Beach, Australia and looked at an old Morgan 3 wheeler for sale. Don't ask me why - Just because I could I suppose.
I've not much news on property this week, only that I have new tenants in one of my apartments in Forres. This is one of the first times I've never met my tenants, everything was done for me on my behalf (And very well too, may I add - thanks Paul at MR's).
I suppose I'm still very much 'old school' in this respect, as I'm often reminded. Not for much longer though - I intend to get myself a netbook of my own. Think of all the cakes and pastries I could have delivered to my door. I'm going to look up 'man flu' remedies next, in the hope that I'll be up and about soon, to introduce myself to my new tenants.
Take care & Keep wrapped up out there, I wou;dn't want you to catch it !
Mr Jackson.
Tuesday, 20 January 2009
Tuesday, 6 January 2009
Park Life....
While I was away, there was a fascinating piece in the Telegraph about seven London lodges, all in the Royal Parks, which have been spruced up and are being made available to rent. They're not cheap, of course, but the perks, combined with the originality of the addresses, are impressive... and include Royal Parks gardeners tending your plot, detached living and parking in central London and acres of parkland on the doorstep.
At the "bargain" or cosy end of things as the estate agents might say , try West Lodge in Hyde Park: a double bedroom, off-street parking and garden near Knightsbridge and South Kensington, for £550 a week.
You could get your own stately home in Moray for that, aren't you glad you live 'up North' !
Though the way things are going at present it can be difficult to secure a property to rent, due to the exceptional demand. Paul at Moray Rentals has advised me that quality rental properties are being snapped up, quicker than they can be advertised.
'We don't have many properties left on our books at present, due to increased demand in December, which is unheard of. And of course there's the ever present 'annual separation' market in January - which can always be relied upon to swell the prospective tenant numbers'.
All makes for unhappy reading if you are currently a prospective tenant.
Take solace with a strong coffee and an 'elephant's foot' cream bun and call the agents to see what they have available, as many properties are offered out to a waiting list before they are advertised.
Bon Chance ! Mr Jackson.
Tuesday, 23 December 2008
Merry Christmas !
I would like to take this opportunity to wish all my readers a very Merry Christmas and a prosperous New Year.
Thank you especially to those that have sent me Christmas cards, cakes and mince pies ! Much appreciated - as my ever increasing waistline will confirm.
And of course my thanks go to the genorous guys at Moray Rentals who have enabled me to write this blog, using their wi-fi connection, knowledge base and expertise.
They've made an old man very happy and I've really enjoyed writing this and chatting with them over the last year - I will continue to do so, as long as people are willing to read my opions and ramblings !
I'll be back early in the new year. I'm spending Christmas with my family in America - The best present I could wish for.
Hope yours may be just as enjoyable !
Until next year.
Mr Jackson.
Thank you especially to those that have sent me Christmas cards, cakes and mince pies ! Much appreciated - as my ever increasing waistline will confirm.
And of course my thanks go to the genorous guys at Moray Rentals who have enabled me to write this blog, using their wi-fi connection, knowledge base and expertise.
They've made an old man very happy and I've really enjoyed writing this and chatting with them over the last year - I will continue to do so, as long as people are willing to read my opions and ramblings !
I'll be back early in the new year. I'm spending Christmas with my family in America - The best present I could wish for.
Hope yours may be just as enjoyable !
Until next year.
Mr Jackson.
Friday, 12 December 2008
At risk of losing your home ?
It's a sad fact that there's a lot of people out there who are struggling to keep up their repayments in these somewhat unusual times.
If you are at risk of losing your home, there are other options for you to consider before jumping for a “quick sale” company that will offer you up to 80% of your homes value - that may hurt more than help.
Here are some things to consider for keeping your house if you are struggling at the moment :
Communicate with your lender- this is the first and most important step. Your problems begin at the first time you miss a payment but often they will work with you if you communicate with them. There are situations where you can seek extensions or other arrangements may be available but you cannot seek these options if you don’t communicate.
If you are at risk of losing your home, there are other options for you to consider before jumping for a “quick sale” company that will offer you up to 80% of your homes value - that may hurt more than help.
Here are some things to consider for keeping your house if you are struggling at the moment :
Communicate with your lender- this is the first and most important step. Your problems begin at the first time you miss a payment but often they will work with you if you communicate with them. There are situations where you can seek extensions or other arrangements may be available but you cannot seek these options if you don’t communicate.
- Set up short term repayment plan to make up the deficit.
- Add the unpaid balance to the principal of the loan and slightly increase your payments to make up the difference.
- Temporarily reduce or waive your payments.
- Offer a deal in lieu of foreclosure.
- Consider a legitimate credit counseling service.
- Consider your refinance options.
- Consider government aid options (more about this later)
- Before you think your only option is a “quick sale” company, make sure you take time to research other possibilities.
The Government can help too.
Recently the Government announced to the banks that they will be helping people who are in danger of losing their property for non payment. It’s possible you could qualify for one of these programs or for some type of government assistance to help you keep your home.
Before you run out for a quick sale option, get all of the facts. Beware of the “quick sale” companies, regardless of what you may have heard or what they may promise they can do for you. If you’re in danger of losing your property due to non payment or just seeking to sell your home quickly, consider all the options you have first.
Like me, I'm sure you would carefully consider the sweet trolley and the prices before deciding upon the Double chocolate Gateau. Rather than selecting the day old Battenburg, at a premium price, without considering what else is on offer. (Most quick sell companies can be likened to the latter.....).
Lets be careful out there !
Mr Jackson
Thursday, 27 November 2008
Something special in the estate....
Today I've just returned from 'Ord Ban' the new cafe within the Rothiemurchus estate in Aviemore, my taste buds are still recovering, from the delicious home made butternut squash soup and beautiful lamb and mint sandwich.
It's an ideal place to indulge and take your mind off the property slump for a while. I'm surprised it's not full of estate agents drowning their sorrows in the sea of homebaked cakes.
Formerly the senior classroom of the old school house with its high pitched ceiling, pine floors and wood burning stoves. Now, a friendly and relaxed café by day and intimate dining room by night.
All the bread is made by hand each morning and a tempting medley of home baking awaits you throughout the day. Children are very welcome and the menu features some good healthy options, for those of you watching your weight - Mrs Jackson please note I had the healthy option lunch !
Heartily recommended !
I'll have to take Copernicus a good long walk now to get rid of my two slices of pear strudle (don't tell Mrs J). I'll see if I can get into treble figures counting the estate agents boards - If I do I'll reward myself with another visit to Aviemore later in the week. I think I'll make it a very long walk....
Yours thoroughly fulfilled,
Mr Jackson.
It's an ideal place to indulge and take your mind off the property slump for a while. I'm surprised it's not full of estate agents drowning their sorrows in the sea of homebaked cakes.
Formerly the senior classroom of the old school house with its high pitched ceiling, pine floors and wood burning stoves. Now, a friendly and relaxed café by day and intimate dining room by night.
All the bread is made by hand each morning and a tempting medley of home baking awaits you throughout the day. Children are very welcome and the menu features some good healthy options, for those of you watching your weight - Mrs Jackson please note I had the healthy option lunch !
Heartily recommended !
I'll have to take Copernicus a good long walk now to get rid of my two slices of pear strudle (don't tell Mrs J). I'll see if I can get into treble figures counting the estate agents boards - If I do I'll reward myself with another visit to Aviemore later in the week. I think I'll make it a very long walk....
Yours thoroughly fulfilled,
Mr Jackson.
Tuesday, 25 November 2008
This old house....
This week I've given over my blog to a 'popular' local agent whom I met whilst selecting a large piece of Blueberry pie at Logie Steading. We reminissed on the virtues of getting old and of course the local property market, here's what he had to say - I'm sure you'll enjoy it ......
As I pause before the mirror and contemplate another day flogging homes, I check the reflection and grimace. Countless old buzzards in crumbling homes, matching their crumbling frames, regale estate agents with portentous warnings about not getting old, seemingly unaware that the alternative isn’t too peachy an option.
I know it’s because they’re lonely and painfully aware that life is effectively over - just the care home and the adult sized nappies to negotiate – but I’m already prone to mild depression, in this business.‘Not too bad for your age.’ Chuckles my wife not entirely helpfully, as I fiddle with my tie knot.
I’m aware I’m no matinee star, but I like to feel I’ve aged better than most of my peer group. With the rapidly greying temples, I’m trying to cultivate the salt and pepper George Clooney look, but in truth it might be closer to George Fornby.
‘Maturing.’ I say pausing before adding. ‘ Like a good wine.’ It hands my wife the perfect opportunity too confirm wryly, that she knows I do.
‘You’re doing okay.’ She grants graciously, then hurries to the kitchen to avoid any further fabrication.
I occasionally run into old school contemporaries, often valuing their home for a matrimonial split. It’s a bittersweet moment judging, as we both are doubtless doing, who has done better since the faded yearbook picture. The ones that give me a warm cheer are the over-achievers who peaked early. The sort of kiddie who was football captain, had a trial for a minor league outfit, and always picked you last in the traumatising P.E. team selection process.
Obviously it’s bad for business pointing out the balding big-bellied man about to lose his home hasn’t worn too well. You can’t afford too much blatant vitriol in sales. On reflection, it might be why I’m persevering with this blog, cheaper than a therapist’s couch and any carping won’t cost precious deals.
‘You’ll be late.’ Warns my wife, as I check my e-mails. I’ve been tempted by another Friends Reunited teaser and dipped into that oddly addictive time warp. I’m not scanning for first love availability mind, I’ve attended too may forced sales where one spouse has been seduced by a twenty-five year old memory of his classmate in a gymslip, to know it’s not a wise move.
Although relationship break-ups do fuel the sales market nicely. Perhaps my crummy outfit should investigate a link to the site. Not sure how the photos posted on-line would stand up to the property misdescription act though, as most of them are ten years and ten pounds out of date.
‘Don’t I know you?’ Asks the grey-faced man who opens the door to me later. He looks like a barely animated corpse, and as he stares at my business card we both realise we attended the same failed educational experiment. A vast comprehensive forged by the amalgamation of a reluctant Grammar school and a notorious secondary modern. He used to kick me as I waited at the bus stop, a fact he’s conveniently forgotten, unless he’s got early onset Alzheimer’s.
I remember though.‘Best days of my life.’ He reminisces nostalgically; confirming he’s either completely lost his marbles along with his wife, or has had an exceedingly dull thirty years since.Then as if to confirm he reached his apex in maths lessons, he brings out a dusty set of school photos and ignoring the fact he routinely bruised my ankles while I waited for the number ten bus, he starts meandering down memory lane.
The man is clearly more depressed than I am, so once I’ve humoured him with the odd sanitised anecdote about the crappy emporium we both attended, and more importantly ascertained his soon to be ex-wife’s solicitor has okayed the imminent house sale, I hit him with a top rate sole agency - one that stings almost as much as my legs used to.
‘I’m thinking of organising a reunion.’ The man continues once I’ve the paperwork and a for sale board safely confirmed. God help his creaky-limbed internet-sourced dance partner when Slade are played at the disco, she’ll need to watch her shins.I’ll just wait for their re-sale in a couple of year’s time.
See you at the reunion- Until next time,
Mr Jackson.
As I pause before the mirror and contemplate another day flogging homes, I check the reflection and grimace. Countless old buzzards in crumbling homes, matching their crumbling frames, regale estate agents with portentous warnings about not getting old, seemingly unaware that the alternative isn’t too peachy an option.
I know it’s because they’re lonely and painfully aware that life is effectively over - just the care home and the adult sized nappies to negotiate – but I’m already prone to mild depression, in this business.‘Not too bad for your age.’ Chuckles my wife not entirely helpfully, as I fiddle with my tie knot.
I’m aware I’m no matinee star, but I like to feel I’ve aged better than most of my peer group. With the rapidly greying temples, I’m trying to cultivate the salt and pepper George Clooney look, but in truth it might be closer to George Fornby.
‘Maturing.’ I say pausing before adding. ‘ Like a good wine.’ It hands my wife the perfect opportunity too confirm wryly, that she knows I do.
‘You’re doing okay.’ She grants graciously, then hurries to the kitchen to avoid any further fabrication.
I occasionally run into old school contemporaries, often valuing their home for a matrimonial split. It’s a bittersweet moment judging, as we both are doubtless doing, who has done better since the faded yearbook picture. The ones that give me a warm cheer are the over-achievers who peaked early. The sort of kiddie who was football captain, had a trial for a minor league outfit, and always picked you last in the traumatising P.E. team selection process.
Obviously it’s bad for business pointing out the balding big-bellied man about to lose his home hasn’t worn too well. You can’t afford too much blatant vitriol in sales. On reflection, it might be why I’m persevering with this blog, cheaper than a therapist’s couch and any carping won’t cost precious deals.
‘You’ll be late.’ Warns my wife, as I check my e-mails. I’ve been tempted by another Friends Reunited teaser and dipped into that oddly addictive time warp. I’m not scanning for first love availability mind, I’ve attended too may forced sales where one spouse has been seduced by a twenty-five year old memory of his classmate in a gymslip, to know it’s not a wise move.
Although relationship break-ups do fuel the sales market nicely. Perhaps my crummy outfit should investigate a link to the site. Not sure how the photos posted on-line would stand up to the property misdescription act though, as most of them are ten years and ten pounds out of date.
‘Don’t I know you?’ Asks the grey-faced man who opens the door to me later. He looks like a barely animated corpse, and as he stares at my business card we both realise we attended the same failed educational experiment. A vast comprehensive forged by the amalgamation of a reluctant Grammar school and a notorious secondary modern. He used to kick me as I waited at the bus stop, a fact he’s conveniently forgotten, unless he’s got early onset Alzheimer’s.
I remember though.‘Best days of my life.’ He reminisces nostalgically; confirming he’s either completely lost his marbles along with his wife, or has had an exceedingly dull thirty years since.Then as if to confirm he reached his apex in maths lessons, he brings out a dusty set of school photos and ignoring the fact he routinely bruised my ankles while I waited for the number ten bus, he starts meandering down memory lane.
The man is clearly more depressed than I am, so once I’ve humoured him with the odd sanitised anecdote about the crappy emporium we both attended, and more importantly ascertained his soon to be ex-wife’s solicitor has okayed the imminent house sale, I hit him with a top rate sole agency - one that stings almost as much as my legs used to.
‘I’m thinking of organising a reunion.’ The man continues once I’ve the paperwork and a for sale board safely confirmed. God help his creaky-limbed internet-sourced dance partner when Slade are played at the disco, she’ll need to watch her shins.I’ll just wait for their re-sale in a couple of year’s time.
See you at the reunion- Until next time,
Mr Jackson.
Tuesday, 11 November 2008
'Interest'ing Rate Cuts.
There's uproar at the Daily Mail website, in response to a piece in which it's reported that the lenders (many of which, by the way, have now passed last week's 1.5% interest rate cut) have told Alistair Darling they won't be passing on any further cuts, while the Libor rate remains substantially higher than the base rate.
Nor is it unusual... it's a response to mortgage interest rates we're hearing over and over again. And it's incredibly, astonishingly shortsighted. Has everybody - already - forgotten how we got into this mess in the first place?
Will more cheap credit really get us out? And who, in their right mind, would rather have seen the banks left to fail, taking savers, homeowners and businesses with them?
The banks weren't bailed out for the personal benefit of the directors - they were bailed out for the benefit of the economy. Furthermore, who really believes that cutting interest rates is going to prop up the housing market?
And - finally - remember that there are still some savers out there, people who didn't take advantage of easy credit but who behaved responsibly in the first place - who'd like to see their savings rewarded with a level of interest that at least keeps up with inflation.
These are unusual times my friend, sit back and enjoy the ride - if you can. It's much more palletable with a couple of slices of Dundee cake and an expresso - whilst enjoying these, things don't look all that bad, for a few minutes at least.....
Until the next time,
Mr Jackson.
Nor is it unusual... it's a response to mortgage interest rates we're hearing over and over again. And it's incredibly, astonishingly shortsighted. Has everybody - already - forgotten how we got into this mess in the first place?
Will more cheap credit really get us out? And who, in their right mind, would rather have seen the banks left to fail, taking savers, homeowners and businesses with them?
The banks weren't bailed out for the personal benefit of the directors - they were bailed out for the benefit of the economy. Furthermore, who really believes that cutting interest rates is going to prop up the housing market?
And - finally - remember that there are still some savers out there, people who didn't take advantage of easy credit but who behaved responsibly in the first place - who'd like to see their savings rewarded with a level of interest that at least keeps up with inflation.
These are unusual times my friend, sit back and enjoy the ride - if you can. It's much more palletable with a couple of slices of Dundee cake and an expresso - whilst enjoying these, things don't look all that bad, for a few minutes at least.....
Until the next time,
Mr Jackson.
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