Three homes, one ordinary day. This is what you see.
No feature lists and no promises: three complete stories with the screen that shows up at each moment. The amounts are the ones the product would work out, down to the cent.
The Tuesday nobody has to keep in their head
Ana and Bruno, with Lucia (9) and Mateo (5)
Two adults with jobs, two kids with after-school clubs and a house to run. None of it is hard on its own: what's hard is remembering all of it at once, and always having the same person be the one who remembers.
In thirty seconds
A house with kids has about forty live things in it at any moment — the swimming bag, Friday's dentist, the coffee that ran out, the €84 shop — and today all of them sit in one adult's head, which is precisely the problem. Here each one gets written down in ten seconds by whoever notices it first, and from then on it chases the right person by itself. What you're buying isn't another list: it's not being the person who has to remember.
Before
- The school calendar lives on Ana's phone.
- Errands get lost in the family WhatsApp group.
- “I thought you were doing it.”
One Tuesday, hour by hour
- 07:40
The reminder lands before the rush does
The chore was written down once, back in September, and repeats itself every Tuesday. It goes off on the phone of whoever's turn it is this week — not on everyone's — with the time they need to be out of the door.
- Written once, back in September
- Repeats itself every Tuesday
- Only rings for whoever's turn it is
- 11:15
The coffee runs out and it's already on the list
Two taps from the kitchen, cupboard door still open. The list belongs to the house and not to a phone, so whoever passes the shop this afternoon carries all of it without asking anything in the group chat.
- The list belongs to the house, not a phone
- Anything below its minimum is suggested
- You can dictate it out loud too
- 17:00
The dentist appointment is seen by the whole house
Written down once, it turns up in both their weeks, next to Tuesday's swimming and Thursday's parents' evening. Who takes her on Friday gets settled by looking at a screen, not by asking.
- One appointment, one place
- The reminder reaches both phones
- Birthdays show up here without adding them
- 20:05
One photo of the receipt and the pantry fills itself
Twelve items typed by hand is five minutes of keyboard, which is why nobody ever does it. The AI reads them off the photo and suggests how long each thing keeps — whatever it can't date it leaves blank, which is the honest answer.
- One photo, twelve items
- Use-by dates come suggested
- Nothing goes in until you confirm it
- 20:30
One shop, three things done
What was bought gets ticked, the pantry refills with its dates and the expense is logged and split, all in the same transaction. One move, not three screens — and the odd cent gets handed out instead of vanishing.
- The pantry refills itself
- The expense is split as it's logged
- The odd cent is handed out, not dropped
By the end of the day
None of the five things above is a feature anyone had to learn: it's the same Tuesday as always, written somewhere it stops depending on one person remembering.
A whole year without digging through WhatsApp
Elena lets a flat in Zaragoza. Samuel lives in it.
Nobody is sharing a fridge here: there's a tenancy and two sides with opposing interests at the three moments that count — the deposit, the damage and the rent review. Whatever gets written down now is what will exist on the day it's needed.
In thirty seconds
A let doesn't go wrong through laziness: it goes wrong because the papers you need on the day of the problem — how the flat was on day one, what was paid and when, who fixed what and for how much — get produced across twelve months and four different apps. This gathers them as they happen, with no extra work: the receipt comes out of the tenancy, the repair keeps its cost and its thread, and the check-out inventory is filled in by copying the check-in one. In December the deposit is settled showing where every euro comes from, and in April the year is already added up by category for the accountant.
Before
- The tenancy agreement in an inbox and the certificate in a folder somewhere.
- “Did they pay this month?”, checking the bank from memory.
- The deposit: three months arguing about how the flat was on day one.
One year in the property
- January
The check-in inventory, with photos
Room by room, with the meter readings and the condition of each thing on four steps — not two — because five years of ordinary wear is exactly what can't be taken out of a deposit, and it needs a box of its own.
- Room by room, with photos
- Four conditions, not “fine or not”
- The tenant signs it from their own account
- Every month
The receipt comes out itemised
Rent, service charge and parking on separate lines, added up and with its PDF. Elena marks it paid when it lands and sees at a glance what's outstanding and how many days late; Samuel downloads his copy without asking — the one he'll need for his tax return or his bank.
- Rent, service charge and parking as lines
- A PDF both sides can download
- Paid status comes from what's collected
- March
Something breaks and the conversation stays inside
Samuel opens the issue with a photo — “there's a stain” tells you nothing when you're deciding between a plumber and the insurer. What gets said there, with its date, is what explains in December why a deduction is a deduction.
- Opened by the tenant, with a photo
- Four states: “called someone” isn't “fixed”
- Anyone can open one; not anyone can close it
- May
The paperwork warns before it expires, not after
The insurance, the energy certificate, the boiler check. Each with its date and three warnings — a month, a week and the day itself — because a policy expiring tomorrow can no longer be renewed in time. Anything marked restricted stays out of the tenant's view.
- Three warnings: a month, a week, the day
- Restricted papers stay out of the tenant's view
- The PDF lives in Documents, not an inbox
- June
The rent review warns a month ahead
The tenancy turns a year old in July, and an increase only applies if it was agreed and notified. Elena types in the index her agreement names — the product doesn't work it out, and says so — and out comes the notice letter as a PDF, with its date.
- Only if the agreement provides for it
- The landlord types the index in
- Out comes the notice letter as a PDF
- December
The deposit goes back with the breakdown in front
The check-out inventory is filled in by copying the check-in one, so what gets compared is thing by thing against how it was. What's held back comes from a closed issue with its date and its cost: a deduction you can show, not a number read out at the end.
- Check-out copies the check-in
- Deductions come from a closed issue
- The breakdown is emailed the same day
When the year closes
None of this was done in December: it was written as it happened, which is the only way it exists in December at all. When the tenant leaves they lose access to the property, but their receipts stay theirs.
homeify keeps things in order, it doesn't advise: it doesn't draft agreements, doesn't check the law, doesn't decide which index applies — the landlord types that in — and files nothing with the tax office.
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