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Jill and I are in the English countryside touring the MOST magnificent private gardens and estates, which include acres of open meadows, secret walled gardens, lush landscapes, fields of wildflowers inviting songbirds of every description, zen-like ponds and fountains, stone sculptures artfully displayed to catch the eye, precision-like hedges of giant yew and beech creating one lovely vignette after another, colorful trellises covered in climbing roses and clematis, peonies, peonies, peonies, and of course, the proverbial grass tennis courts and swimming pools (the "gentry" really do live differently)
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I'm an "early bird" by nature, typically starting my day at about 5:30 AM, so I adhere to the old adage that states: "the early bird gets the worm." Truth is, I am more productive between 6:00-9:00 AM than I am the entire rest of the day. Bedtime? It's also early, much to my husband's consternation; I'm usually in my jammies and asleep before 10:00 pm. On the positive side, invite me for dinner and I'll never be the guest who outstays her welcome. (Punctual to a fault.)
However, "early" doesn't always work to one's advantage . . . "My mother planted those GIANT Junipers," the Seller said, nostalgia dripping from her voice. "I'd hate to take them down."
"That's unfortunate because the trees literally block the house," I said, "you could easily drive right past and never know the home was there at all. (That's no exaggeration - there's a very cute house waiting to be loved behind those trees.) "It's nothing to write home about," the gentleman loudly said into his phone while Face-Timing his out-of-town friend, "but for your purposes, it will do."
"Pardon me?" Listen, reasonable minds can agree to disagree, but it's probably NEVER a good idea to walk through a house in front of the listing Agent critiquing it while others are within earshot, especially as we've just spent weeks getting the property ready for the marketplace to make sure it shines and presents in its best light. "I'll meet you this evening for the BIG unveiling," my email said, and then I added, "fair warning, you may not initially love the work." (Let's just say I've traveled this road before.)
While Agents know that staging provides the BIGGEST and BEST returns on a a client's investment, Sellers don't always meet our improvements with the oohs and aahs we were hoping for. Even the most stunning transformations can illicit a negative response, and while that's not necessarily unexpected, it can feel like a letdown after we've spent weeks (sometimes months) preparing the property for market. (It's not every Agent that can professionally hang wallpaper, but we are truly hands-on.) I'm always a little amazed and amused when I get the inevitable question from the Buyer's Agent prior to the offer date: "What are the Sellers' expectations? (They're "great.")
With more than 20 years of selling Real Estate, I've yet to answer that query the way they'd probably prefer: "They just want a nice family who will love the house as much as they have. Price isn't really their driving force or even their objective . . . " (Yeah, right.) “I love the house,” the woman said, “but it’s the garden I can’t get over,” she gushed.
The compliment was well deserved. Artfully designed by a landscape professor from UC Berkeley, the front and rear gardens at our newest listing in Elmwood are spectacular. Featuring a graceful landscape that includes a wisteria-covered arbor, fig, apple, and pomelo trees, herb garden, blooming ground cover, lush beds, bubbling Zen fountain, gas fire pit, and expansive deck, it’s easy to imagine the hours spent here with fresh lemonade and a good book. "Which of these walls are load bearing?" the women asked at my Sunday Open, pointing at the long hallway running down the center of the home.
"Well, certainly the exterior walls are," I said. "I meant which of the INTERIOR walls are load bearing?" she repeated, clearly impatient with me. "You'll need an engineer or a contractor to answer that," I said. "I'm not qualified on that topic." (Nor would I hazard a guess.) "Then what are you here for?" she snapped. "My son and daughter-in-law are interested in the house, and I've come all the way from France!" "Bon jour," I said, "but that still doesn't make me an engineer . . . " Here we go again . . . I spy the tell-tale signs of a bird's nest under construction on a rafter high above my exterior side stairs. This feathery duo return each spring (like the swallows of Capistrano) to build their roosts. Theoretically, I don't object to birds nesting around my house . . . it's just that these birds are slobs (truly, they make a MESS). It begins with twigs, straw, strings and grass littering the steps, then once the chicks are born and on a 24-hour feeding schedule, it gets really ugly, really fast . . . (need I say more?).
I spent the morning in my garden planting for a tour I've agreed to host in May. Five of us were asked to open our gardens to a visiting club from Pasadena, and while I'm happy to do so, between you and me, this is both an unexpected honor, and an awfully BIG CHORE . . . which is why I've been working on the flower beds a little bit at a time.
That being said, gardening is one of the few tasks that pay you back in spades . . . |
AuthorJulie Gardner, has been writing The Perspective for 18 years and has published more than 775 humorous but always informative, essays on life and real estate. 
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