Susan Walters

The title of this piece is a quote from my husband, circa 1990, I'm guessing, when we were in such dire straits financially that we had 20 cents in our local savings account. I am not kidding. When the savings statement came from the bank, my husband looked at it, uttered those words, and continued with, (if somebody gave me a nickel) "We'd have a quarter in our savings account."

We were in that position since we had decided to function as a family with just my husband's income to provide for us. That had not been the plan, pre-children, and we had definitely not saved enough for the path we ultimately took after 11 years of two paychecks and no children. Our household income was cut in half when I stayed home to care for one, then two, and a third child in 4.5 years. We exhausted our reserves and soldiered on. I remember the scrimping in those days. We did things no one else was doing. Our babies wore cloth diapers that I hung on the clothesline to dry. A roll of paper towels could last a month in our house - dish towels and table cloths made up for them with one washer load and line drying cutting costs even more. I even hung heavy clothes like jeans and comforters in the basement to air dry. If I could do it for less, I did. I was constantly on the lookout for more cost-cutting ideas. Do I need to mention that baby formula never crossed our threshold? Or that dinners out were absolutely never done? I don't regret any of those decisions and our family and children are better off for it. No one will ever convince me otherwise.

Today I find myself selling real estate in Michigan and although things are looking considerably up, my husband is still employed in the auto industry and the bottom of our security, such that it is, could drop out at any moment. Sure, we have 401K plans, IRAs, stocks; some do well, some not so well - we are in it for the long haul in most investments and are told to not sweat the temporary setbacks - just like in real estate. We expect the equity of old to return to our home, one day, and daily savings efforts are evident once again. Sometimes we let the satellite go out - we barely watch TV anyway, not even our children. We keep the heat really low in our large house, though I must say I did a listing presentation in a lovely condo yesterday and my nearly frostbitten hands had a hard time turning the pages of my booklet - my guess, 45 degrees. At the end when we talked about net proceeds, I learned that there was no mortgage on the property. Turn on the heat then!!! I came home to the comforting warmth of 63 degrees, a sausage and roasted vegetable dish prepared by my son, and plenty of fleece blankets. It felt like heaven; it is heaven. Sometimes we forget.

I have to look back to those seemingly desperate years so long ago and wonder if lack of money was really a problem. We found ways to cope and survive. Our bank account eventually grew to a sizable amount; we purchased our next home, this home, with a hefty 20% down payment. We may have had 20 cents in our savings account then but we weathered the storm and prevailed. It is how I look at real estate now. Cut costs but not services. Will the work be harder? Of course, nothing in life is ever really easy or free - it is all in perception. The weak will succumb but the strong will survive. I will survive.

In public English buildings, constructed in the days of yore when people were a foot or so shorter than modern folks, there are often signs over truncated doorways that read, "Mind Your Head." The sign itself forces the eye upward and the message immediately signals - DUCK!!!

The semi-detached house we lived in for two years in London, just about a decade ago, had a doorway just like that. My husband at first refused to even consider the property since he whacked his head hard during our walk-through. I fought to lease the house, even with that doorway, since it was the best of the bunch. One of the other contenders had a great garden (yard) but required even very thin people to enter the upstairs bathroom sideways. I knew that wouldn't work. Some had so much built-in furniture that we couldn't have brought our own. I thought that was key to letting our young children and pets settle in without too much disorientation. After drawing floorplans and furniture arrangements, my husband came to see that the head-banger was the right one in the end too. He never hit his head again; some lessons are learned immediately.

Once we stayed at a bed-and-breakfast with a drawbridge across a turn in the staircase leading to the second floor - that was the access to the full bath. The kids had a blast with it but there were bound to be desperate days when the time and effort to secure the drawbridge would result in one catastrophe or another on the landing. Puzzling spaces, cubbyhole rooms, steeply slanted ceilings, no closets (and never, never any window screens) - these were the results of antique buildings being enlarged and modified to fit the whim or need of the day.

Guess what? "America" has all of those oddities and more in buildings right now. I showed a property once that was advertised in the MLS as having 1.5 baths. Sure enough, there was a full bath on the second floor but where the heck was the .5 bath? As I opened the door to the basement, my potential buyer broke out in laughter. Right there on the landing was a toilet and sink. She said, "I think I'll go into the basement and while I'm on my way down there, I might as well take a ****!" Finesse was not her strong suit but it was a good laugh, and not even an MLS overstatement if you get right down to it. There was a shower in the basement so really it was a 2.0 abode....

I showed a property today and thoroughly enjoyed the banter while my party of buyers and builders debated the changes that could be made to eliminate the functionally obsolete features. The property had been a ranch at one time and a second floor had been added many years ago. One idea was to turn the awkard staircase by spiralling the lower few steps to one side but I noted the "mind your head" dilemma and the group aha'd in unison. There was lively discourse on the second floor when the 3 bedrooms were discovered to have bathroom access by only two of the three, jack and jill style. Yes, there was a full bath on the main floor but how inconvenient would that be for the second floor inhabitant of the third bedroom? Someone floated the idea that the bath's attached walk-through closet was large enough to become its own bathroom, with a door to the hallway. By sealing that entrance to the existing bath, a master bath was created pronto, and the two smaller bedrooms had a new hall-entry bath to share. Oh, how I wish I could draw a floorplan here!

This is the part of my job as a realtor that I particularly love. The challenge of taking these quirky spaces, working with builders and (mostly) investors, to turn misfortune into profit is an exciting opportunity. I have the market knowledge to know what buyers will prefer and the investors & company have the dollars and sense to do it. If this deal goes through, I'll be sure there are before-and-after photos, with before-and-after numbers to underscore the point. Good design pays, at any price point. I'm only too happy to help.

We were once called the "family of sarcasm" by someone who knew members of our family in different capacities and therefore was SURE that what he was saying was exactly true. We weren't insulted. Sarcasm is a biting form of humor that some people get and others don't. We get it, we enjoy it - I think it may actually be hereditary, from my family's side.

My husband's family, on the other hand, is all about dry wit. That must be the British in them, cordial, reserved, non-confrontational. I once saw a Monty Python skit where a motorist hit a bicyclist and while the motorist was at fault and horrified, the bicyclist kept apologizing for having gotten in the way. He insisted that his crumpled two-wheeler was just fine, that he needed no assistance despite his banged-up appearance and kept apologizing profusely to the offending driver. That is my husband's family.

Sarcasm is crude and rude if not understood by the receiving party. Dry wit is benign.

I was reminded of this by a conversation my son and I just had regarding his grades and the mock AP Psychology test they just took in his 12th grade class, as a measure of what might acutally happen when they do the real thing. He told me that he scored a 4 despite having totally skipped the essay and not having read or covered 3-4 chapters of the material in class yet. You can only go as high as 5 on these tests and most colleges/universities accept 3 for credit toward the course. (Read - free tuition.)

I commented to him that while he is completely capable of technological topics, and his choice of computer science as a major (without hesitation or trepidation) surely establishes that, he is equally capable of the "other brain" activity. He said he has learned that he is extremely androgynous and I believe that completely. I laughingly said, "That is why we disagree and I hate you so." For those of you out there who do not understand, that is the sarcastic version of "that is why we disagree and I love you very much in spite of/perhaps because of it." He laughed and said, "People hate what they cannot have." We laughed again and off he went to bed.

In another family this might be a recipe for disaster. In a business relationship, with unmatched personalities, it is a major recipe for disaster and should not be attempted at all. It all goes back to the personality profiles; I've referred to DISC before but there are so many other measures of personality. Bottom line, don't take chances, don't be overly familiar, don't assume. And don't expect forgiveness if you get it wrong. I hate my son...and he knows exactly what I mean. <3

Ever heard of the DISC personality profile? Recently our office had an event and we were asked to complete a questionaire. Though the creators of this profile system might shun my analysis, my cliff notes version of the letters signify: D, dominant or driving, I, interactive or extroverted, S, sensitive or steadfast, C, controlled or compulsive. My results were different than I had expected. The "I" was understandable, but the "S", not so sure that should have been so high.

Within two weeks we were at another event with many agents and offices from our region and another DISC questionaire. The results were not the same. On the ride back, my team leader said the test was a more recent version - AHH, modern times call for new standards. Suddenly I was a "DI" - I could agree with that. Note to self, old and new, get a high "C" assistant since my "C" is endangered and maybe extinct. No surprise there.

We talked about the results, understanding our own strengths and weaknesses but more importantly, recognizing the characteristics in our clients. I relayed the interactions I had with what may have been my first listing clients. (You'd think I would remember for sure if it HAD been my first listing...shouldn't that have been a memorable thing? Hmm, I think it's that C thing again....)

The husband had called while I was on floor time from 10-12 one morning and said he needed to list his property for sale. I asked some pertinent questions, including time frame for sale - one month. Quite the feat he was expecting since it was already October and we were in an oversupplied, slow, depressed market and snow was falling as we spoke. There may not really have been snow....

I promised to be at their property, ready, by 12:30, and I was. As their two cats wandered around, one jumping to the dining table where I was presenting my hastily compiled facts and conclusions on their property, I petted the cat and continued with the presentation. In the end, I asked if they were interviewing other agents. Yes, two more, one each from two of the best known local offices. I lost hope and was shocked to be offered the listing the next day.

I now understand why I succeeded. He was a high C; she was a high S. Though neither is my strongest inclination, I managed to read them. I was prompt, professional, and full of facts when I arrived quickly and prepared. I related to the beloved cats spontaneously since I have cats of my own and theirs were purebred beauties - who wouldn't love them? I won the clients over just by being me and reading them.

The C emerged as needed, the S was lingering in the background, the D was evident too. The I had the sense to see it all. It wasn't a perfect transaction since my D should have taken over long before it did. No one got hurt and the property did sell. I learned pretty quickly that I would most often deal with the wife, by phone, and we would have long lovely chats. When the husband wanted something, it was an email request with urgency attached. They moved far away but I still have contact and a lovely hand-crafted, hand-written thank you note.

On the job training successfully completed, even before I knew about DISC. D and I will always be with me, perhaps swapping places from time to time. S will continue to linger nearby, but C, oh C, what can I do to lure you in? At least I now know the drill.

My daughter is somewhere over the Atlantic right about now, February 18, 2008, if all is going well. Tonight she left for Paris for a 4 month study-abroad program via the University of Michigan.

I remember the day she graduated from kindergarten and how I cried to another parent. I knew these years would fly by and that mother laughed, yet they have. As each school year would begin, it seemed an eternity to the end, then suddenly the end was in sight and another year was just around the corner.

Each year I took pictures of our three kids on the first day of school, decked out with new backpacks and their finest new clothes - not that you could tell when they were pre-distressed from the factory. I was mocked the year that I made them all turn around so I could get a photo of the backpacks on their backs - all character backpacks. They were 10, 8, and 6. Middle school started for the oldest the next year - character backpacks were definitely out! There was never a year before or after that last year of innocence that I could have done that, no matter how strange it may have seemed at the time. It was a snapshot of them then. They had chosen those backpacks and it had been important. Would they remember if I asked them about that time? Unlikely.

Tonight's goodbye was so hasty there was no time for tears. My daughter's boyfriend had come from his California school to say his farewell and they had skipped to Washington DC to have a private au revoir over the weekend. A last minute doctor's appointment took up the early part of the day and the afternoon was spent in banking and other details. Time was running tight and I called my husband to come home early from work to be sure to say goodbye. She is somewhere over the Atlantic now and there was just not enough time....

As it worked out, her boyfriend was going back to California, same terminal. She argued that we didn't all need to go to the airport so we let them be dropped off by his parents since his departure was two hours earlier. The flight was delayed and last I heard he was at her side as she was ready to board. I'll be watching the news for the unlikely catastrophe that I envision, then waiting for the, "I am here" correspondence at her new, temporary, family home. We'll wait while she searches for a converter for her laptop and buys a new phone. Then we will know she is OK.

Three years ago I took the first first-day-of-school photo without her and this September it will be without her brother too. They'll be one child with an indistinct backpack but the same distressed jeans, brand new, in the photo this year. Where have these years gone, and why so fast? There were times when I looked at them and said, "Stop growing!" I really meant stop growing up, but they didn't and here we are. Waiting. We're used to that by now. This has to be the longest and most distant wait of all. So far....

It's been three days since I started this post and we still wait. No air or other catastrophes noted but I'd like to know about the family she now shares a home with. I know we will hear as soon as she is reasonably able to contact us. This is going to be a great adventure for her, an opportunity for growth far beyond the college experience she has had just seven minutes up the road from our home, in her words. She is going to grow up, come back changed, and embrace the adult world. I know it. She was already there but this is going to seal the deal. Change is good. Letting go is good. We'll never again have the hold on her we had, or thought we had. She is like a cat who resists herding - some of you may recognize that reference. For the rest of you, I assure you she is exceptional, and now she will be completely unsurpassed, in whatever way is important to her.

I expect that contact any time now; I need to wait for her. It's just not as easy as I thought it would be.