When I go for my legendary (or at least they will be, soon) walks through the neighborhood, I like to keep tabs on stuff. I walk a different way every day, on a five day rotation, just in case something exciting happens. And I make sure that at least once a week, I check out the Rapunzel House.
The Rapunzel House has been an ongoing concern since 1984. It is STILL unoccupied and uncared-for, and I am starting to get nervous. Someone is going to buy the Rapunzel House...and tear it down.
If you are a peep of mine, you know that my husband and I are like OSI's Oscar Goldman. We take outdated, run-down properties and fix them.
"Gentlemen, we can rebuild him. We have the technology. We have the capability to build the world's first bionic man. Steve Austin will be that man. Better than he was before. Better...stronger...faster."
(Okay, maybe not faster. And obviously, a house ISN'T Lee Majors. But you get the picture.)
And I am afraid that once Rapunzel's out-of-state owner decides to sell (oh, yes...I have done my research. I know who she is. I know where she is. And I imagine that she is hanging on to this house because she grew up there), it will be too late. The house will be in such a state of disrepair that there will be no saving it.
Do yourself a favor, Chickie. Sell the house. To me.