I swore I would never move to a townhouse. When I left my hometown of Asbury Park, NJ to move to Bergen County, I thought I had moved to mars. First, no ocean. Who leaves the ocean to move to the sticks? And, in 1972, Franklin Lakes was the sticks. Then, after the divorce, I had to make another move. This time to Wyckoff, NJ --- a lovely town just minutes away from Franklin Lakes, but very different. Franklin Lakes properties were an acre or more, while in Wyckoff you were lucky to get more than .4 acre. I thought I'd stay there forever --- the house was perfect for me --- but working 70 hrs/wk leaves little times to keep up with all the maintenance. So, with great trepidation, I started looking at townhouses.
The one fear that overrode all others was the loss of working in the garden. The exteriors of most complexes in our area are maintained by the Association, not the homeowners. The one complex I liked most was Brookside, and there the homeowners maintain the front portion of the shared property. It was just enough for me to keep myself happy. That is, until I started having problems with the Maintenance Company.
I have a very tiny deck, in the rear of my townhouse, and that backs up several very overgrown trees. In addition, sitting right up against my deck are 4 half-dead arborvitae (ugh), all of which contribute to the mold and moss that continues to grow on my deck. I sent in a work order to try to get the trees trimmed and the dead bushes removed. No response. I left 2 voice mail messages for our Property Manager. No response. I sent a letter. Well, I think you've got the picture.
My last resort was to send a registered letter to the owner of the maintenance company. Well, all of a sudden the property manager woke up. I got a very terse email asking why in the world I would ever send a work order to the owner. Then no response. Nothng about what might be done. By now, I was furious. I had been there 2 years and still could not use my deck, no matter how often I scrubbed it with bleach.
So, I did what any enterprising woman might do --- I took a ride to Home Depot and bought a saw. However, before I could saw down the dead shrubs, I leaned on one, and it came right out of the ground. The roots of three of the shrubs were rotten from having no sun, and fell over with a slight push. The fourth, while as ugly as the rest, was sturdier so I didn't have the heart/nerve to cut it down.
Lo and behold, the property manager sent me another nasty email, this time threatening to bring a complaint against me to the Association. I makes me wonder if townhouse living is just not for me, or if other people find ways to deal with this petty nonsense.
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