Dinah Lee Griffey

One thing I love about selling real estate is that no two days are alike and we can make them whatever we want them to be. There are days however that I just wished I had stayed in bed.The following story should have been one of those days.

One of my more interesting and thicker files, took place years ago as I excitedly took my first listing. It was a bank owned home and this was not a down market. I knew that I could find the right buyer and that the while the house was a mess, there was a lot of potential in the 5 acres that accompanied it.

I headed right out and put up the sign, filled the flier box and placed a well worded ad. Then the next thing I knew the phone rang and an offer was on it's way.

It was a good offer and the other agent was great to work with. I wish I could have said the same for her client or her clients boyfriend who had just been released from prison.

The bank took the offer and I let the other agent know. She sounded happy and said she would tell her clients immediately.

I was in the area and I decided to swing by the property and check on the flier box to make sure it was still full. After all we had a deal but not a closed transaction yet.

As I pulled up the twisting drive I immediately spotted smoke coming from the property. Not a good sign. I parked and ran up to the home only to see a large flaming burn pile in back of the house. Nearby was a hose and an aquarium pump spewing the contents of the septic onto the property. The doors to the home had been pried open as the buyer boyfriend hurried around with his busy work.

I managed to explain to them that the buyer had not bought the property yet and that he would need to leave or be accompanied by his agent. He did not agree, so I got the Buyers Agent on the phone to explain.

I thought all was resolved as I watched him clean up and leave. Apparently we were still not on the same page though, as a week later when I stopped by all of the flooring had been removed from the home and replaced.

In the end the property did close with another buyer. The original buyers check did not clear escrow and they eventually moved on. And I finished writing a pile of notes that my Designated Broker read with her mouth open in wonderment. Some clients are special some are VERY special.

So, do you have any stories to share about an adventure in real estate? I would love to hear them!

The Northwest is full of treasures. From the dew drops sliding off the limb of an ancient cedar tree to the morning mist revealing a lake born to reflect Rainier.

The newborn deer stumble up from the soft earth to breath in a new day. The blossoms emerging from their nights slumber beckon them to breakfast.

Time changes everything as it drifts from season to season and century to century calling all to try again.

Life is full of moments that are made for each one of us. If we pause long enough we may be able to catch one and enjoy its depth.

My Grandma's house was home to us all the entire time I was growing up. It was the one thing in my life I could count on. Grandma would be at the dining room table reading a book and enjoying a steaming cup of coffee with cream and sugar of course, at any given moment. A fresh baked batch of cookies could disappear before your eyes and a beautiful display of flowers from her garden could always be found delighting the table's center.

Why does this memory matter? Because it is a gift. A gift that was given without strings attached. A place I could count on when the rest of the day stormed around me. It was her house that was home to me. The place where cousins gathered dressed up for the occasion and forbidden to get dirty, aunts and uncles debated the politics of the day and the place I tear up when I drive by.

Home ownership is not just a monetary investment. It is =piece of mind and security in the storm. A place where priceless memories are made and Christmas shows up in pictures.

When I bought my home, I thought of Grandma's. The cat laying in the sunny window and the sidewalk I skated around and skinned my knees. I thought to myself home is where life is made and dinner is waiting. It is where we connect and understand each other.

I purchased my first home when I was 19. I was thrilled to be able to share our home with our children and build that tradition with them.

I know now that it meant something to my kids, as they tell me what they want in a home of their own. What memories they hope to pass on and where their adult lives will begin.

Owning your own home is not about a price tag or a market. Owning your own home is about the life you lived and the place where memories live on forever.

I have been working from home the past few months and I really enjoy it. The coffee is always hot and my favorite brand. I can play whatever station I want to listen to with out anyone groaning. And dinner is always hot and on the table, not a last minute grab and go at the grocery store.

The downside is the phone calls all day long. I get hang up calls from nearly every organization under the sun and if they are on the line, they proceed to tell me how bad life is, and that for just a few dollars their group can fix it. When I ask them to take me off their list they try to negotiate calling me fewer times a year. While I understand this is someone's living, I have really just about had it with the phone stalking!

So I began to think about my own business and how my clients want to be communicated with. I prefer e-mailing them but that is how I want to communicate. It is more important to know how they want to communicate. I want to make sure that the service my clients receive is top notch according to them...not necessarily only according to me.

So they next time you take on a new client ask them the simple question- How would you like me to communicate with you? You might be surprised at how responsive they are when you have an update or a question and how much happier they are to have you working for them.

The Theler wetlands is the perfect way to enjoy a lazy Sunday afternoon. Birds dip and soar as they call to the winds. Small animals pause on the graveled path as if to consider the humans. Breezes carry through the channel of Hood Canal to retell a legend lost to time. The coy sun melts though the gray and understands that Theler is more than a moment to be found.