Blessings and Good Fortune are the best ways to describe the current real estate situation in Austin, Texas. Yes, real estate has taken a back seat in buyers and sellers minds in the current economy, but of many MSAs in the country, Austin has not felt it so badly. If you are a homeowner looking to move, it may be especially tough to get back what you put into your home plus a bit on top, but at least your market value hasn't dropped over 30% as it has in some other metropolitan areas.
And when you want the best advice on either buying or selling in this Austin Real Estate market, look to the website to follow, www.judywickham.com, for the most professional sellers agent or buyers agent. Judy not only helped us find a home when we moved to Austin, but assisted us sell it six years later, at a much increased value. Her professionalism in contacting us, updating us about the market, staging expertise and carrying through with the closing gave her five stars out of five in customer service.
If you're thinking of selling or buying a home in the Austin area, you deserve to treat yourself to Judy Wickham at 512-589-4150.
Monday, February 9, 2009
The Color of Darkness
We measure light and brightness and the colors that the rays create, but has there ever been a measure, or color frequency of darkness? By darkness, I'm referring to the absence of light, as opposed to a reference to the "dark side" of our nature, for that requires an entirely separate blog.
This topic has been bearing down upon my mind since I observed the true sense of darkness in the sky about a month or so ago. It was an extremely foggy night, after a day of consistent fog. I stepped out my back door to take out the trash, and as I neared the can, and carried out my usual awe of the beautiful Texas hill country sky, was almost stopped in my tracks when I looked east to where the city lights of Austin usually light up the sky. The sky was blacker than I'd ever seen it. The interesting thing about it was that there were other areas of brightness, much nearer and to the north and south, but Austin was DARK. It was incredible to see the sky that looked as if a dark cloak was placed where my usual landmark lies.
How could it be so dark? I wondered. I had never seen it to that degree, and was trying to figure out how it could be so dark, with the reflection of the city lights onto the low-lying clouds. I've not quite reached my conclusion yet, even though we had the same circumstanced the next night. I've been so perplexed that I've been observing the color of darkness since then.
How dark is my house? How dark is a moonless night? An early morning ride to school?
Since that night, I check every night to make sure I wasn't imagining things that dark night, and am usually reassured by the glow of the city.
This topic has been bearing down upon my mind since I observed the true sense of darkness in the sky about a month or so ago. It was an extremely foggy night, after a day of consistent fog. I stepped out my back door to take out the trash, and as I neared the can, and carried out my usual awe of the beautiful Texas hill country sky, was almost stopped in my tracks when I looked east to where the city lights of Austin usually light up the sky. The sky was blacker than I'd ever seen it. The interesting thing about it was that there were other areas of brightness, much nearer and to the north and south, but Austin was DARK. It was incredible to see the sky that looked as if a dark cloak was placed where my usual landmark lies.
How could it be so dark? I wondered. I had never seen it to that degree, and was trying to figure out how it could be so dark, with the reflection of the city lights onto the low-lying clouds. I've not quite reached my conclusion yet, even though we had the same circumstanced the next night. I've been so perplexed that I've been observing the color of darkness since then.
How dark is my house? How dark is a moonless night? An early morning ride to school?
Since that night, I check every night to make sure I wasn't imagining things that dark night, and am usually reassured by the glow of the city.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Scaredy Walk
She breathed in deeply, extending her belly to inhale all the air she could into her diaphram. Her arms swung ahead and behind her to get the most out of her exercise. Ann was feeling good. The peace of the countryside, the bright blue sky and the briskness of the air made it a perfect day to take a walk.
She whisked along the road, eyes roaming around, when a curled mesquite branch reached out and grabbed her hair. At least that's what it felt like, an arm extending into the street, claws outstretched and pointing directly at her eye. An angel, or possibly just a bit of a breeze, cast it out of the way as it approached, and narrowly missed hitting her face.
This interrrupted Ann's exercise concentration, and made her more aware of the side of the road where she walked, both from the trees above and to the side, and the road below. The road was smooth enough, a paved road with a bit of gravel to the side, buffalo grass beyond that, then the mesquite trees against a fence.
With the bit of scare behind her, she fell back into a routine again. Not that she should be scared, why, she had walked this space for at least a year now, and with vigor. She had heard about the mountain lion or other large cat that supposedly lived in the park. The nearby park, and neighborhood for that matter, had plenty of acreage, hiding spaces and water to support an entire litter of wild cats. Coyotes were heard frequently, and foxes, raccoons, armadillos, rattlesnakes and deer in abundance were seen on a regular basis.
Thinking about her former walking partner and dog, Buddy, who had protected her and given her unconditional love, Ann felt a pang of grief for him. He had disappeared about a month before, after suffering several seizures in a row. One night, when he had followed her outside to throw away the paper towels from cleaning up the drooling and pee mess, he would not return inside, so she went to bed. Next morning, he wasn't around. Not worried, she went about her Saturday with no concerns about his late return. There was never any return, however. He was her protector, putting the space between her and potential predators.
The rustle in the grass beside her started her somewhat. She turned to look to her left, saw nothing, and continued on. Probably just a deer or a couple of them.
To be continued ...
She whisked along the road, eyes roaming around, when a curled mesquite branch reached out and grabbed her hair. At least that's what it felt like, an arm extending into the street, claws outstretched and pointing directly at her eye. An angel, or possibly just a bit of a breeze, cast it out of the way as it approached, and narrowly missed hitting her face.
This interrrupted Ann's exercise concentration, and made her more aware of the side of the road where she walked, both from the trees above and to the side, and the road below. The road was smooth enough, a paved road with a bit of gravel to the side, buffalo grass beyond that, then the mesquite trees against a fence.
With the bit of scare behind her, she fell back into a routine again. Not that she should be scared, why, she had walked this space for at least a year now, and with vigor. She had heard about the mountain lion or other large cat that supposedly lived in the park. The nearby park, and neighborhood for that matter, had plenty of acreage, hiding spaces and water to support an entire litter of wild cats. Coyotes were heard frequently, and foxes, raccoons, armadillos, rattlesnakes and deer in abundance were seen on a regular basis.
Thinking about her former walking partner and dog, Buddy, who had protected her and given her unconditional love, Ann felt a pang of grief for him. He had disappeared about a month before, after suffering several seizures in a row. One night, when he had followed her outside to throw away the paper towels from cleaning up the drooling and pee mess, he would not return inside, so she went to bed. Next morning, he wasn't around. Not worried, she went about her Saturday with no concerns about his late return. There was never any return, however. He was her protector, putting the space between her and potential predators.
The rustle in the grass beside her started her somewhat. She turned to look to her left, saw nothing, and continued on. Probably just a deer or a couple of them.
To be continued ...
Sunday, January 4, 2009
A New Year
A new year means lots of different things to different people. To many of us, it means time to make resolutions for changes and improvements to ourselves in the new year. To some, it is just time to let go of the bad that happened last year and start anew, without looking back. And unfortunately, to a few people, it means facing new challenges, and more hardship.
For me, the first description fits best. Every year, I make resolutions and plan to become a better wife, mother, daughter, sister and friend. Also, I set measurable objectives and goals to meet. My 2008 goals were not composed of many measurable goals but included to publish something and to find part time work, of which I met both. I did not keep time sheets for my daily activities as I would have liked, nor did I find or "get" the "big picture." That one went on my list for 2009, but I'm not sure that I'll ever get it, except that I should live my life for God, and whatever He happens to bring my way.
My objectives to listen better, eat healthy and exercise, to pray regularly and to praise my family were met to a certain extent, but I had to place the same goals on my list this year. These must be a constant reminder to me to be my "check" to make sure I continue to pursue them. And I do want to be the "best," but as a human being, with the potential to sin, it's just not possible.
I wish each and every reader the best year ever, and may your measurable goals be met, and may you continue to strive for those that can only be assessed by your heart.
For me, the first description fits best. Every year, I make resolutions and plan to become a better wife, mother, daughter, sister and friend. Also, I set measurable objectives and goals to meet. My 2008 goals were not composed of many measurable goals but included to publish something and to find part time work, of which I met both. I did not keep time sheets for my daily activities as I would have liked, nor did I find or "get" the "big picture." That one went on my list for 2009, but I'm not sure that I'll ever get it, except that I should live my life for God, and whatever He happens to bring my way.
My objectives to listen better, eat healthy and exercise, to pray regularly and to praise my family were met to a certain extent, but I had to place the same goals on my list this year. These must be a constant reminder to me to be my "check" to make sure I continue to pursue them. And I do want to be the "best," but as a human being, with the potential to sin, it's just not possible.
I wish each and every reader the best year ever, and may your measurable goals be met, and may you continue to strive for those that can only be assessed by your heart.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Angels in Devine
Driving home from Laredo, I prayed for a safe journey. I had prayed for a safe journey there as well, as we left Marble Falls at about 7 pm on a Monday night, arriving around 11 pm.
We left Laredo on Saturday at about 1:30 pm and were discussing what we would eat after two hours on the road. Jack in the Box, Sonic, and Dairy Queen had made the final list. About a mile from Divine Devine, forty minutes from San Antonio, I heard a huge "POP!" on the back of my car. I pulled over but was concerned about getting out of the car on the highway so I just made my way to the next exit, Devine, Texas, turned left and pulled into the Sonic. Without wanting to panic, we ordered, then my daughter got out to look at the tire. A flatty getting flatter.
I got out of the car and walked to the outdoor seating area. I saw a couple of guys, one a cute blond beefy football defender type, and the other a more slight, dark headed boy, and calmly walked over to them. They were both HS seniors/early college age and looked up at me as I approached the table. I asked if they knew of a place I could get my tire changed and they asked if I had a spare. I replied, "yes," and they said that they would change it for me, and immediately started to get up, hot food still in front of them. I told them to please finish their food, that we had just ordered and would be glad to wait for them.
A short time later, after we had received our food, they came over and started working. During, they asked where we had come from and where we were going, overall friendly guys that looked like they had changed a tire before. One of the boys shook his head and was amazed that I had the flat where I did, instead of on the wide open road from Laredo to Devine (the avocado capital of South Texas). It only took about 15 minutes. When they were done, I tried to hand them my last $20 and they said the most lovely words, "No, No, you're in friendly Devine, we couldn't take that from you," even as I tried to insist. I was most appreciative.
We smiled, waved and drove away, thankful for those two angels.
We left Laredo on Saturday at about 1:30 pm and were discussing what we would eat after two hours on the road. Jack in the Box, Sonic, and Dairy Queen had made the final list. About a mile from Divine Devine, forty minutes from San Antonio, I heard a huge "POP!" on the back of my car. I pulled over but was concerned about getting out of the car on the highway so I just made my way to the next exit, Devine, Texas, turned left and pulled into the Sonic. Without wanting to panic, we ordered, then my daughter got out to look at the tire. A flatty getting flatter.
I got out of the car and walked to the outdoor seating area. I saw a couple of guys, one a cute blond beefy football defender type, and the other a more slight, dark headed boy, and calmly walked over to them. They were both HS seniors/early college age and looked up at me as I approached the table. I asked if they knew of a place I could get my tire changed and they asked if I had a spare. I replied, "yes," and they said that they would change it for me, and immediately started to get up, hot food still in front of them. I told them to please finish their food, that we had just ordered and would be glad to wait for them.
A short time later, after we had received our food, they came over and started working. During, they asked where we had come from and where we were going, overall friendly guys that looked like they had changed a tire before. One of the boys shook his head and was amazed that I had the flat where I did, instead of on the wide open road from Laredo to Devine (the avocado capital of South Texas). It only took about 15 minutes. When they were done, I tried to hand them my last $20 and they said the most lovely words, "No, No, you're in friendly Devine, we couldn't take that from you," even as I tried to insist. I was most appreciative.
We smiled, waved and drove away, thankful for those two angels.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Sick Momma
Not to be cruel or anything, but isn't it interesting that Obama's white grandmother is ill just two weeks before the election? I understand that the media has said that she is ill, and I am praying for her comfort and longevity if it is meant to be.
As we know, however, the drive-by media has a tendency to blow things out of proportion because of the liberal organization that it is and the left wingers it supports. What if she is only "slightly" ill, and to show her support for her grandson, she exaggerated her illness to highlight the fact through photos of her and Obama that she is white, and thus her grandson is part white, to help the undecided voter flip the switch for the democratic ticket?
I am not a racist, but merely observing the current political race with eyes wide open. We shall see her prognosis in the days ahead.
As we know, however, the drive-by media has a tendency to blow things out of proportion because of the liberal organization that it is and the left wingers it supports. What if she is only "slightly" ill, and to show her support for her grandson, she exaggerated her illness to highlight the fact through photos of her and Obama that she is white, and thus her grandson is part white, to help the undecided voter flip the switch for the democratic ticket?
I am not a racist, but merely observing the current political race with eyes wide open. We shall see her prognosis in the days ahead.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
FOR SALE
One home may have a family relocating to another part of the country or overseas with a new job or promotion. Another may be a family “moving up” with a recent landfall of cash from an inheritance or professional bonus, or a savings account reaching an appropriate level. Sometimes, it’s empty nesters moving to a smaller abode, or older people, moving to a retirement community for less daily maintenance.
The sad stories are those of the death of the owner, or death in the family, leading the remaining occupant responsible unable to maintain the maintenance or mortgage. Divorce puts many homes up for sale, as neither partner wants to remain surrounded by bad memories, or can’t afford to keep up the payments. And there’s the loss of a job or income from an individual business, or over limit credit crunch that forces the owners to sell. Why, there’s even the gruesome reality that an owner killed the other spouse/occupant, confesses, and is thrown in jail, tossing the house on the market. (This one happened to my next door neighbor – he confessed in a bar when he was drunk one night that he’d put most of the body in the disposal, with the bones buried in the back yard.)
Many more stories exist, and working in the real estate market for the past two years causes me to ponder. As I walk through my neighborhood, I consider the possibilities of the current owners. Is it a welcome sign in their yard? Is the move desired or forced? Are they desperate to sell? And then there are the interior questions. Is it nicely staged and appealing? Was it a good floor plan and well-appointed to start with? Have there been any remodeling jobs completed to enhance it? Or does it have blue and purple floral wallpaper and turquoise Formica counters?
With all these question and stories to behold, I’ve come make up my own stories about the entire situation of particular houses. In the future, I plan to write either a book or a series of short stories, written from a spunky Realtor’s perspective, about some of these stories. Who knows, maybe I’ll publish a few here.
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