Despite glowing annual research from the National Association of Realtors, all is not well in Vacation Home Land.

Vacation home sales recently "boomed" to well above their previous peak, NAR boasted. But vacation homes come in all shapes and sizes: from owning the whole enchilada to as little as one week in the place annually. And seven years after the recession began, according to another report, shared-ownership resort real estate continues to suffer mightily.

"Stagnation" is the word used by researcher Richard Ragatz to describe the business.

Shared-ownership real estate includes fractional interest projects, private residence clubs and destination clubs, in which buyers own just a piece of a higher-end property and share the units and amenities with other owners. The survey does not include time shares, which are typically less expensive properties.

Only 62 shared-ownership properties in all of North America -- the U.S., Canada and Mexico -- actually made sales last year. That's down from 75 in 2013 and 153 in 2007 when the recession began, according to the Ragatz survey, which is thought to be the most complete.

Moreover, only three new projects were started while seven shut down completely, one converted to a destination club and one switched to whole ownership. Seven sold out last year and four re-started sales.

"More and more consumers are becoming disenchanted with the burden of ownership," the researcher said. "They're looking more toward rentals and membership (clubs). It's going to be interesting to see what happens over the next few years as prices continue to rise and as more wealth becomes available."

The report cites several factors that have negatively impacted the market: long-term economic uncertainty, a nearly complete lack of available financing, a lack of marketing dollars, and an excess supply of whole-ownership vacation homes with decreasing prices and increased competition from rentals and rental clubs.

Many of those factors contributed to booming whole-ownership sales, in which you buy the entire house, townhouse or apartment, lock, stock and upkeep. An estimated 1.13 million vacation homes changed hands last year, NAR says -- the most since it began counting vacation home sales in 2003, and roughly 21 percent of all real estate transaction in 2014.

Lawrence Yun, NAR's chief economist, called the growth in vacation home sales "astonishing," noting that they were nearly double what they were in the previous two years.

According to NAR, 45 percent of the vacation units sold last year were distressed properties, a home either in foreclosure or a short sale in which the sales price was less than what the seller owed on his mortgage.

Given these kinds of numbers, you might wonder what people do with all those properties.

According to yet another survey, this one by popular vacation home rental site HomeAway, nearly 1 in 4 buyers intend to rent out their properties from the get-go. But even if they didn't intend to, almost 9 out of 10 end up renting out their newly acquired vacation homes within their first year of ownership.

While the primary purpose of a vacation home for most people is as a personal or family retreat, owners are learning they can monetize their assets and cover 75 percent or more of their mortgage if they rent for just 18 weeks, HomeAway said.

That leaves plenty of time for personal use. But it should also be pointed out that those 18 rental weeks usually cover the entire "high season" for which people purchased their retreats in the first place.

NAR found that a third of the vacation houses purchased last year are intended for family use, and 19 percent of the buyers plan to convert their units into their primary homes sometime in the future.

Still, said HomeAway spokesperson Christina Song, renting is "pretty overwhelming, even if it is not the primary reason for buying. ... A lot of people buy for personal use," then end up renting out the home to cover their costs, she said.

And those costs can be considerable. NAR found that the average price is down 11.1 percent to $150,000 for a condo by the seashore or a cabin in the woods. But much of that is driven by people snapping up distressed properties.

Shared properties tend to be more expensive because they are laden with amenities not even offered in whole-ownership communities. Sales in fractional interest properties averaged $20,000 a week, according to the Ragatz study, while a week in a private residence club averaged a mere $67,700.

At the same time, the average rental rate charged by HomeAway clients is $217 per night ($1,519 per week). The site also reports that clients average $28,000 annually in rental income, enough to cover 75 percent of the typical mortgage.

Since the passage of the National Housing Act of 1934, Americans have been promised a safe, decent and sanitary home. While it isn't written in stone like our federal housing policy, the national agenda also aims to make sure that anyone who has served his or her country in the military service should also have a safe, decent and stable place to call home.

Frequently, that goal can be achieved through the GI Bill, which allows for no-down-payment loans. On top of that, many states have special programs for the servicemen and women residing within their borders.

Many private entities also have stepped up to help America's returning GIs in one way or another. National homebuilder Pulte, for example, gave away 20 brand-new homes to worthy veterans over the last two years.

But arguably, no single company has done more than the Madison, Wisconsin-based Fairway Independent Mortgage Corp. Over the last two years, Fairway, which has 190 branches covering all 50 states, has given 27 houses mortgage-free to wounded veterans or their families.

"I believe you can make a difference and make a living at the same time. That's when it becomes fun," says Louise Thaxton, the 61-year-old dynamo who makes Fairway's effort roll.

"Nobody asks to be a hero; it just sometimes turns out that way," she says, quoting a popular line from the 2001 military film "Black Hawk Down." "We can step back and someone else can give them a mortgage-free house, or we can step up."

Working in Fairway's Leesville, Louisiana, office, Thaxton is on a crusade on behalf of servicepeople returning from the wars in the Middle East.

"I saw the need for excellence in serving the military," she explains. "We're the watchdog for the better part of the world, and someone needs to be a watchdog that stands between the warriors and the wolves."

That watchdog, as it turns out, is a 5-foot-2 grandmother of 17 who sees the military as a "targeted population," easily cheated, over-billed, ripped off and scammed.

In other words, our fighting men and women make great marks.

They typically are young and financially inexperienced. They may have been trained for combat, but not for fiscal battles. What's more, servicepeople are often transient and, therefore, totally unaware of which local businesses are honest and which are not.

At Fort Polk in Louisiana, Thaxton saw young vets being raked over the coals by used car companies and payday lenders, and she also saw overcharging by title companies and even a bit of gouging by some mortgage brokers.

"I saw lenders not using VA or FHA loans because 'they were too hard' just so they could get the extra fees" from conventional mortgages, she says. "They would refinance people from a 30-year fixed loan to a three-year ARM just to get $5,000 in fees."

Besides closing her own deals, Thaxton began teaching her colleagues about the ins and outs of dealing with returning warriors, which is not the same as working with everyday citizens. For one thing, they often don't have the luxury of time and cannot wait for the market to turn. Another example: Vets may not be stationed at the same base as their spouse, or the civilian half of the couple may be unable to find work.

Four years ago, Thaxton asked her company to back an extension of her education efforts, and Fairway CEO Steve Jacobson gave her his blessing. "He told me to just run with it," Thaxton says.

So she set about creating a continuing education class for real estate agents and brokers on how to deal with military clients. At the end of the class, students are awarded a Certified Military Residential Specialist diploma. (The designation is Fairway's, and not the Mortgage Bankers Association's or the National Association of Realtors', which has its own military designation.)

Last summer, in Clarksville, Tennessee, the home of Fort Campbell, Thaxton led a three-hour seminar for 400 realty pros from as far as 100 miles away. Pacing back and forth in her ever-present combat boots -- she wears them even when she's training for her first half-marathon in the rural backroads of Louisiana -- she asked the entire audience to stand. Then she asked those who have served in the military to sit down.

Next, she asked anyone who's a military spouse, parent, grandparent or child to sit as well, followed by aunts, uncle, nieces and nephews of someone in the service.

Only a few people were left standing, and the point was made: "We are all connected to the military."

At each seminar, Fairway donates a home to a wounded vet. In Tennessee, the recipient was retired Army Specialist Marshall Lane, who was wounded during combat operations in Afghanistan, earning a Purple Heart as well as a Combat Medical Badge for performing his duties while under fire from the enemy.

Everywhere she goes, Thaxton rallies the real estate troops.

"I have a huge goal that every wounded warrior receive a mortgage-free house," she said in Clarksville. "It's not impossible if everyone gives something. There's none of us who can do everything, but everyone can do something."

When the evangelist for wounded vets closed the class, the entire room stood and burst into applause.

When Paul Henderson's mother took every single light bulb with her when she moved, the Tacoma, Washington, agent was so embarrassed that he went back after she left and replaced them all.

And so began a discussion recently on ActiveRain, the real estate site where Henderson asked about the worst damage his fellow agents have seen sellers do when moving out.

As you might expect, the responses were amazing.

The harm some disgruntled owners have done to their homes when they are forced to leave because of a foreclosure or short sale is legendary. But the destruction Marte Cliff saw after an owner had his house repossessed might just take the prize.

"They took the furnace, the kitchen sink and the range, the pressure tank, all the light fixtures and even the switch plates," said the former Seattle-area agent, who now writes a real estate marketing blog.

But that's not the worst of it, according to Cliff: "Then they threw rocks down the well."

To add insult to injury: When the well driller came to drill a new well, Cliff gave him a map and showed him where the septic tank and drain field were, telling him not to go near them. But the driller paid no heed to her warning, nor to the map.

"He didn't pay any attention," she said, and his rig "fell right into the septic tank."

Likewise, when Mike Alexander of Buyers Broker of Florida in Windermere previewed a luxury short sale, the place was bare to the walls. "No fixtures, no kitchen, no bathroom, no doors, no flooring, no A/C ... They even pulled the electrical wires up into the attic. The home was really stripped to the core."

The backstory: The husband had moved out during the sale, leaving his wife. So she got even by running an ad for contractors to come buy whatever they wanted.

Scott Godzyk of Godzyk Real Estate Services in Manchester, New Hampshire, had a similar experience. "It's one thing to take the whole kitchen and bath with you, but another to (put) a hole in every wall and cement the toilets, sinks and tubs," he said.

Mike Castle of Century 21 M&M Associates in Capitola, California, once saw a house where all the light fixtures and appliances were ripped out. Furthermore, the seller kicked holes in the deck. "This person was not happy about having to sell and move out," he remarked.

But sellers don't have to be angry to do damage. Often it's unintended, but it's destruction nonetheless.

For example, Nancy Holloway of the Regeneration Property Group in Anaheim, California, represented the buyer of a house in which the "moron seller" took a chisel to the kitchen tile to remove the built-in stove.

This, even though the contract clearly stated the stove would remain behind.

Jill Sackler of Charles Rutenberg Realty in Merrick, New York, once bought a house in which the seller removed the refrigerator, which was supposed to stay, plus the washing machine. The seller also "tried to yank the dryer out of the wall but couldn't ... so it just broke instead."

A few months later, the seller must have had a touch of remorse. She called, offering to return the broiler pan she and her husband had taken from the oven.

Durant Vick of Roanoke, Virginia's The Real Estate Group saw a house in which the seller had placed one of those spiky plastic mats on a hardwood floor. The mats are meant to go on top of carpet, not wood, so it left holes in the floor that had to be filled in.

Lots of times, though, the damage isn't done by the seller: The culprit may be the moving company, or the owner who is moving himself.

In Clarksville, Tennessee, Debbie Reynolds of PenFed Realty, a Berkshire Hathaway affiliate, saw a house where the seller drove his rental truck too close to the house and tore off the siding. "It looked pretty bad," she said.

Teri Pacitto of RE/MAX Olson & Associates in Westlake Village, California, recalled an incident when "professional" movers scratched the dark wood stair treads and flooring while moving the seller's furniture. The floors had to be completely redone.

And in Stuart, Florida, Gabe Sanders of BlueWater Real Estate Services said he had a case once where the moving van "took out the garage" when it backed into it. The moving company paid for the damages, but the buyer decided to back out of the deal anyway.

One of the most frequent bugaboos in real estate is sellers who leave their homes a mess, failing to clean up behind them when they leave.

But dirt is one thing; filth is another.

Lyn Sims of RE/MAX Suburban in Schaumburg, Illinois, had one house where the seller left the refrigerator full of spoiled food. And Pat and Wayne Harriman of Harriman Real Estate in Wallingford, Connecticut, rented a house to a foreign potentate who left the place in shambles -- cigarette burns in the carpet and floors, walls scratched and dented, food left in the sink and fridge.

The landlord went after the crown prince for damages, but he had diplomatic immunity. So the landlord paid for the repairs.

Often the seller pays for any damages, one way or another. But give credit to these and other realty pros, who sometimes foot the bill out of their own pockets to keep their deals afloat.

Dan Tabit of Northstone Real Estate in Sammamish, Washington, is one such agent. When his seller left some large holes in the drywall where the TV was mounted, the buyer was livid. But Tabit stepped into the breach to fix the damage himself.

"Everyone was happy in the end," he recalled.