Dear Kim ,

I'm writing this blog post to you because I don't have your email address and I blocked the number that you sent a text to me on. I had a few things I want to say to you so I thought I'd start here. 

 You, a person that I don't know, or perhaps you are a bot, sent me a text last week asking me if I'd be interested and discussing the property I own in New Jersey. You, some random person or AI creation, just decided send me a text? On the off chance that I might want to sell you, someone I don't know and doesn't even have a last name, my house and land. Who would do that? Well I guess you would! (Whoever or whatever you are.) I suppose it might seem like a good idea to somebody to randomly text a person and see if they might want to sell you, a random stranger, a plot of land. 

 I am sure you got my name, number and address from public records. You probably just searched the public record and saw that the property officially became mine in 2022. But let me tell you a few things that the record might not show.

 The house which was built in 1923, as I'm sure you know because you've done your research, was purchased by my grandparents in 1924. They were not the first owners of the home and if you know who the original owners were I’d love for you to share that information with me. I suspect you do not. The information must be out there somewhere, but as of yet I have not researched and/or found who that person was. From 1924 to 1994, it was the house that my grandmother lived in until she died in 1994. I suspect that it “changed ownership” (record wise) when my grandfather died in 1985, because I'm betting back the 1920s the deed did not list my grandmother, only my grandfather. A woman owning property? Nonetheless this is the house and the land that my grandparents owned for pretty much all their adult life. It's the house that my mother grew up in. It's the house that became hers, when her mother died.  (Becoming the next owner of record.) It is the house that my mother owned, renting it to me and my husband, until her death in 2022. And at that point it became officially my house, even though my husband and I had lived in it since 1995, and it is the only house that my son has known since his birth in 2005.  (Wish him a happy 21st please. He will be a legal adult in just a few days.) So while it may look as if it has been transferred over several times to different people, it has really been in the same family since 1924. That's a long time. And there's a lot of history there.

 This house and the family that has lived within its walls have seen much change. There was no garage when my grandparents purchased the house. That's something my grandfather had put in. The back of the house did not abut commercial property like it does now. Back then there were apple orchards.  (Long gone sadly.) The house had no refrigerator. Instead it had an icebox that resided on a landing as you went from the kitchen down to the basement. That is now where my tiny refrigerator resides because there is no room in the 1920s size kitchen for a 2020s refrigerator (Or even a 1960s era one.)

The basement which, is unfinished and not pretty, has a coal cellar. Yes, that is what originally warmed the house:  coal. Today the house is heated via radiators from the 1920s with oil. The tank is underground in the backyard. Did you know that? I think not. 

 In the unattractive unfinished basement there is a washer, a dryer, a standalone freezer, and a mini fridge because the fridge and the landing is so small. There is also a lone toilet. That's the second toilet in the house. There are no other bathrooms save for the one on the second floor which has pretty much remained the same since 1950 something. The bathroom on the second floor did not even have a shower until 1995; it was something my husband and I felt we needed. Also in the basement are two laundry lines. They are by the boiler and it is where my grandmother hung laundry when it was not sunny outside. We still use it. Of course by the back door there is a long rope from the house to the garage where you can hang your laundry on a sunny day. Again it is something we still use. My son prefers it over the dryer. I'm sure the neighbors are thrilled to see my undergarments flapping in the breeze on a sunny day but hey... 

 There aren't a lot of outlets in the house. Why would there be? Electricity really wasn't a thing back when my grandparents purchased the house. Most of the lights fixtures have pull chains. (Warning pull chains break frequently into our pain in the ass to replace.) My husband eventually outfitted the house with smart devices so that we can just ask the device to turn on the lights and other appliances.  Needless to say that would not come with the house if it were sold. 

 This house and the property have seen a lot of history. Yes, there was always electricity in the house as evidenced by the push button light switches. Have you ever seen those? We replaced them in the 1990s. I didn't have a television. It did have a radio. It got a television. It got cable. It got internet. But think of how house must have felt as these changes came along? 

 This house has seen blackouts in World War II. It's seen births, graduations, weddings, anniversaries, and death. All in the same family. Isn't that pretty amazing?

 The bedroom that once belong to my mother and now belongs to my son, was the room where my grandmother finally died. Her sewing room, is now our in-home office. The sun parlor (do you even know what one of those is?) is now my son's artist studio. An etching, which I believe was a wedding gift to my grandparents, entitled The Anniversary, still hangs in the living room. The wall in which it hangs has changed but it is still there. The round mirror that my grandmother had hanging over the sofa is long gone as is the sofa. Now in its place hangs a large painting done by one of my son's professors and flanked by two needlepoint pictures that belonged to my mother and we're done by her grandmother. Old and new hanging side by side. 

 Although parts of the house were painted as recently as 2020, most of the house again has not been changed since the 1950s. And it shows. I'm okay with that for now, I'm not sure how you feel. I'm not sure you feel at all. 

 As of right now the small house with only one bathroom to speak of is where my son wants to spend his adult life. Since purchasing a home in the Poconos, my husband and I spend most of our time there. Well we are away and my son is home from college he enjoys his bachelor pad, I am not going to take that away from him. Once he is out of college and his financially able to take over the house I will either rent it to him, as my mother did, or perhaps even sell it to him outright. That is if that is possible. 

 However we never know what the future might bring. My son could end up somewhere else after college, even though he doesn't see it. With that in mind I am willing to sell the house and property to you. Here's the deal though my asking price is 8.5 million. That's a lot of money I realize.

  Is the property worth that? No. I am sure when /if the property is sold the person who purchases it will tear down everything and start anew. After all that's what my neighbors did when they purchased my family home, which just happened to be next door, several years ago. The house next door was no longer the house that I grew up in. It doesn't thrill me but I have made my peace with it. So if you want to buy this house and the property, I would be willing to part with it for 8.5 million. That's the price I have put on my piece of history.

 Price is non-negotiable. It is what it is. You willing to pay that? If so my son will be disappointed but I'm sure a couple of million dollars will make him feel better. 

 Thank you for randomly and somewhat creepily reaching out to me. Please feel free to contact me if you are still interested, and if you have that 8.5 cash on hand. 

 

Sincerely, Bfth