A Marvelous Water Feature!

Some of us on Awbrey play bridge. It’s a lovely game. Lately, a lot of the men have been playing something called “Texas Hold Them,” which is a poker game. I won’t let Bob play poker. I believe it’s gambling. Bridge, on the other hand, is a civilized game. People should be careful what games they play. Barbaric games encourage barbaric thoughts and actions.

Last week I got very upset because a couple we play bridge with–well, precisely, Cindy, the lady of the couple–accused us of cheating. Now, of course we do cheat. But everyone does, and I’m sure she didn’t catch us. Bob and I have a very clever way of cheating. I’m not going to say what it is exactly, but it involves the manner in which I apply lipstick after I am dealt my hand. And the way Bob scratches his face.

It really doesn’t matter how we cheat–everyone can figure out their own way. The reason why we cheat–why everyone cheats–is obvious. I don’t know the cards Bob is holding, so I don’t know what to play. The game would be no fun at all without cheating. Calling out our cheating was very tacky, because of course they cheat too.

The way she called out the cheating was especially irritating. She said, “My, what an amazing play that was. How you ever thought to play the four ahead of the ten–well, I’ll never know.” Oh, I could have screamed. Later, while we were drinking tea, I dropped a sugar cube under the table and ground it in with my heel.

When Bob and I were driving home I made a lot of harrumphing noises to try to get him to talk about it, but apparently, his anger was such that he wasn’t ready to talk. That’s how men are. I can’t imagine we’ll be playing bridge with Cindy and Ron again.

I heard the oddest thing on the local news. I heard that someone drowned in the canal! How terrible. That canal has always bothered me. It reminds me of some nasty waterway in Arkansas or Alabama. I hate selling homes along it. I can almost hear Dueling Banjos, and I think, “How can I ever sell this house?” I have difficulty putting myself into the mind of anyone who would be willing to buy down there. And I don’t understand how my sellers decided to buy there in the first place. But I sure understand why they want to sell! It’s a hideous area.

They should pipe up that nasty thing before someone gets one of those deadly mosquito diseases. As a bonus, those poor people along the canals could finally get decent backyards. And nobody would tramp through their property with mangy dogs. They could even put in a water feature if they miss the water.

I do love a good water feature. It brings nature into your yard! Real nature! A good water feature always makes me smile. A little fake stream, or a pond with those delightful goldfish, or maybe a little gurgling statue. When I was in Europe, I saw a statue of a little boy tinkling. It was marvelous. I’m going to suggest to Bob that we take some money out of the house to commission a reproduction of that darling little boy. I’ll be the talk of the Butte!

Simply Marvelous!

I live in Bend, Oregon. It is marvelous! Lately, some jealous, or just mean, people have been saying it’s past its prime. That’s ridiculous–Bend is just as marvelous as it always has been.

Recently, Bend (indeed, my little Awbrey Butte neighborhood) made it onto the cover of the Wall Street Journal. It was very exciting. My neighbor Joan Grundeman was even quoted in it. She’s a wonderful woman with an impeccable house. Some part-time nurse had strung up clotheslines to dry her sheets. Can you imagine? Clotheslines on Awbrey Butte? That’s quite below us. We can all afford dryers (and believe me–the best dryers) on Awbrey Butte.

Frankly, I’m not sure what a part-time nurse is doing on Awbrey Butte. She must have bought before prices got up to where they belong. I hope she is kicked out. Next thing you know someone will be stringing up a shortwave antenna, or putting a scarecrow with ratty clothes in a garden. You can’t let these assaults on the senses start, or people might even start wearing loud clothes, just to be obnoxious.

Fresh on the heels of this Wall Street Journal excitement, I found out that a house down the street is going up for sale. I wondered what on earth could be happening to make someone move off Awbrey. I knocked on the door with some cookies and a stunning woman with amazing eyebrows and boobs answered. I asked her where she got her eyebrows done and she gave me a card. Turned out she’s in the makeover business. I complimented her and asked why her house was for sale.

“Oh, we’re going back to California. My husband doesn’t like the winter.”

“But winter is ski season,” I said. I must say I already knew that I did not like where this conversation was going.

“Well, we like the warm weather better. Bend is beautiful, but we miss all our old friends and family.”

“Well, family, yes. But aren’t the friends here–the people here–better?”

She just smiled. I awkwardly handed her a plate of cookies I had bought at Newport Market. Lovely little things. “I baked these for you,” I said. “Doesn’t the time fly? I meant to make you some when you moved in.”

She laughed. “Thank you so much. But we were here before you were, you know.”

“Oh really?” What a rude woman. I would be glad to see her go. Not the Awbrey type at all. A woman painting eyebrows all day. Imagine.

Her house is lovely. I imagine it will sell right away, as soon as she and her husband get all their obnoxious belongings out of it. This weekend they went down to San Diego to look for a house. I must admit that I was so peeved at her that when I woke up at two p.m. last Saturday night to tinkle, or I guess it would be Sunday morning, I snuck down the street in my nightgown and straddled a little bush near her front door and tinkled on it. After all, she must have known that I’m a Realtor. She could have at least asked me if I would list the house.

Business in Real Estate is great now. I have more listings than I ever have had. In fact, I’ve started to turn sellers down. I enjoy my life of leisure. It’s really my husband’s job to bring home the bacon. I just sell Real Estate for social reasons. I like to meet people. Especially the beautiful people on Awbrey.

The sellers are just lovely. The buyers, though, have become a chore. They are puffed up by stories in the paper about it being a “buyer’s market.” Please. That’s just what we say to get them over any hesitation they may have. You never know what some joker, who doesn’t really want to buy and is just playing a prank, will put into an offer.

For instance, I was selling a little house for a lovely lady–Mrs. Moss–who was moving into a retirement community. Oh, she loved her birds! She had all kinds of feeders for them. Now, birds aren’t a favorite of mine. First of all, my darling Persian, Contessa, just rips them to shreds. But, also, there is all the fecal matter to clean up. But, anyhow, this Mrs. Moss loved her birds. She wanted to sell only to someone who would keep up the feeding.

Two years ago, buyers would do anything for a seller. But this man who wanted to buy the house… Well, he seemed so nice at first, but he made a face when I told him about the birds. And when the offer came in, a paragraph that I didn’t even see was in there. I don’t know how I missed it. But I passed it along to Mrs. Moss with a smile on my face (I will never forgive the prospective buyer for this). The clause said that Mrs. Moss (“aka The Old Bird,” as the contract said), for the rest of her life, must come to the house every Halloween DRESSED AS A BIRD and eat a bowl of birdseed for the amusement of his party guests.

Never in my life have I seen buyers wearing such scorn for sellers on their sleeves. It’s as if they think they are calling all the shots. It’s unbearable, really.

Needless to say, Mrs. Moss had some alterations to make on the counter-offer. I’d really rather not discuss it anymore. Let’s just say it escalated into a ridiculous tit-for-tat back-and-forth. Eventually Mrs. Moss did sell to him. She said she “had to.” Unfortunately for her, the bird houses were gone the day the new people took possession. A tragedy, from her perspective.

Still, Bend gets better and better. We will have our Trader Joe’s soon and then we’ll be able to say that there’s nothing California has that we don’t have! I can’t wait.

As my good friend Norma DuBois insists, “This is Central Oregon. This is Bend. People want to live here.”

Sally Heatherton,

Bend

Marvelous News From Orlando!

Here’s some great news! My cousin in Florida sent it to me. She has a beautiful tan. There are way too many bugs in Florida for me to live there. I keep telling her she should move to Bend. She’d love it here!

Orlando, which has (unlike Bend) had some housing problems, is looking good again. In fact, a developer says that he expects another bubble.

Of course, I don’t think there ever was a bubble in the first place. Prices went up for good reasons! But it’s exciting that this developer expects another one.

Here’s the story for you. Hope it cheers you up if you’ve been listening to “the wrong sort” of people.

Will housing bubble rise again?