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Growing up in our modest household, our mother always had a jigsaw puzzle set up in the corner of our living room; a habit she continued until her dying day. So when she passed away a few months ago, and I began to miss our weekly visits — which always included lunch, The Dollar Store, and some time working on the latest puzzle — my sister and I came across the perfect game table at the flea market last month; clearly, a sign from heaven. (Thanks Mom.) As soon as we loaded it in the truck and got the table safely home, Jill and I wasted no time setting up, collecting, trading and purchasing puzzles, on the cheap (because $24 seems like too much for cut-up cardboard, but then again, you get what you pay for).
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The 2025 market is wrapping up with what's been a surprisingly strong fourth-quarter finish in Piedmont, including a last-minute off-market sale that's sure to spell a Merry Christmas for us all. (Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way.)
Although off-market sales aren't the norm, our Sellers had already purchased their replacement property and preferred not to roll the dice or wait for the Spring Market to unfold. The additional time would have also meant overlapping mortgages for several months, not to mention painting, staging, carpeting, floor refinishing, and other marketing costs they were thrilled to forego. (These costs usually start at about $50,000.) Jill's back in town, having finally secured an appointment with the Spanish Consulate in San Francisco. (This literally took MONTHS.) But as she needed to establish residency there before she could qualify for an indefinite stay in Spain, she's spent the last month in Barcelona getting to know the neighborhoods and finding an apartment to legally rent. (It's fabulous AND big enough for visitors, so guess where I'll be headed in 2026?)
Ironically, she couldn't complete the paperwork in Spain, but had to fly BACK to San Francisco, where she had initially begun the application process; a process that can take weeks - not days - to complete. In the meantime, Jill is comfortably ensconced in our guest room while they run her fingerprints, check her criminal record (she's clean), and sign off on her physical. In short, emigrating to a foreign country isn't as easy as Instagram or Tik Tok might have you believe. In other words: it's a bureaucratic slog! (How do you say "nightmare" in Spanish?) The next two weeks rank among my favorites of the year. It's when Sarah, Kate, Elizabeth, and I deliver toffee to our clientele. And while our "nice" list has grown to encompass nearly 650 households, with the help of an Excel spreadsheet, we've honed this annual chore down to a science. (It goes much faster in teams.) Even so, it takes all of us working in unison several days to accomplish this mammoth holiday task.
Is it naughty to hide the toffee from your spouse and kids, as many of our emails assert? That's for you to decide. (No judgement here.) Enjoy it however you see fit. We're thrilled you not only look forward to the package from Little John's, but enjoy it so much year after year. Sarah and I have had a busy year, and we're incredibly grateful for it. With an abundance of work, we've kept ourselves and our team busy throughout the year thanks to your support. After months of non-stop activity, we're finally wrapping up the last of our listings, while simultaneously laying the groundwork for next year's business. Between now and then, there will be toffee to deliver, meals to prepare, pies to bake, and families to cherish. We hope you'll be able to gather your friends and loved ones close to enjoy the holiday.
"Hey Julie," the text message said, "We have the last remaining spots for the Top 12 Most Trusted Real Estate Agents in your state for 2024." (2025 wasn't important?) "After that you won't get this opportunity again. What would you like to do?" (Nothing.) These automated texts show up more and more frequently thanks to AI bots, but when you drill down on them, they're nothing more than a "pay to play" scheme. I don't know about you, but if I'm paying an institution, OR a media outlet, Or a client to BUY trust, it seems like the very opposite of what I'm supposed to do, which is to EARN trust, not purchase it. On Wednesday, I accompanied my husband to the Stanford Law School where he was interviewed regarding an infamous case he's worked on for the better part of 30 years. I don't usually tailgate when it comes to Cliff's appearances, but I'd decided last minute that I needed a "mental-health" day and invited myself along. (The outing didn't disappoint.)
The Standford campus is beautiful, Cliff was absolutely great (I'm biased, but he was), and we were treated to lunch in the faculty dining room after his talk, accompanied by several bright, eager, young law students interested in criminal justice. It was a badly needed reprieve, and the field trip succeeded in altering my outlook and attitude. As a side note, the week had been personally challenging for me, having received an unexpected and fairly scathing reprimand that felt entirely unfair and unwarranted . . . Early Tuesday morning, I had an MRI performed on my right knee. Sadly, the test revealed a meniscus tear, not to mention disintegrating cartilage, as well as significant arthritis around the patella. It's not great news, but at least I now know what I'm dealing with, and more importantly, where I stand. Or more precisely, DON'T stand. (Aka: I'm old!)
Because most of our housing stock in the East Bay is also "old," knowing what you're dealing with is among the most important aspects of buying or selling real estate. However, as we've yet to invent the equivalent of the real estate MRI, there will always be a certain amount of the unknown when wading into the murky waters of homeownership. Consequently, finding a comfort level regarding such risks is no easy feat; you'll need to muster superhuman powers. The text message on my phone simply read, "Julie, can you give me a call so we can talk through a few things?"
This particular client has been a cherished part of my journey for many years, and I've had the joy of witnessing his children — like many of my clients' kids — grow from toddlers into high schoolers, before heading off to college and then down the aisle — an astonishing transformation that seems to happen in the blink of an eye. There’s an incredible bond that forms when you become an extension of a family, even if it's just in an advisory role. If "bad news comes in threes," I've paid my bill. On the heels of Jill leaving, and my mother passing away (thank you for all your kind thoughts and prayers), I managed to blow out my right knee last week while at a listing appointment, sending me to the emergency room in searing pain. (That lovely Homeowner insisted on delivering me to Kaiser when it became clear that I couldn't drive myself. Then he stayed with me while I waited nearly two hours to see the doctor in the emergency room.)
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AuthorJulie Gardner, has been writing The Perspective for 19 years and has published more than 850 humorous but always informative, essays on life and real estate. 
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