Day One of Week Two of Real Estate

This is the house that I think may have started it all. It's my grandparent's house, located in the Hyde Park neighborhood of Cincinnati, Ohio. They sold the house at some point and moved, and as the economy moved up and down through the decades, the refrain went from "we should never have sold that house" to "thank God we sold that house" and back to "we never should have sold that house" to "it's not there anymore." But more important than a house as a piece of real estate is the Hyde Park house that continues to live on in family stories. In fact, the history of my father's family was often measured in terms of where they were living. Someone would start a story with, "Remember when..." and the story would end with, "What house was that?" If the story was particularly old, the question was, "Was that the Hyde Park house?" Which was followed by one of the refrains mentioned above.

The tradition continues with Sam's grandparents, my mom and dad, and our stories. "Where was that? Beau Lane?" "No, that happened when we lived at Covered Bridge." (Yes, there was an actual Covered Bridge at the entrance to the neighborhood, left over from when the subdivision was a farm, and I crossed it every day on the way to the school bus stop. Its thick beams created shadows where the boys would hide and throw snowballs as their classmates crossed the bridge. It scared me to death, and then I learned it was fun, and that I could throw them back.)

So I guess I'm a suburban girl from way back when, though I'm also a woman who has lived most of her adult life in the towns of Fulton, Missouri, and, in Indiana, Rushville, Beech Grove, and Crawfordsville. (Yes, I know Beech Grove is sort of the city, but I don't think I'd dare say that to a resident any more than I'd suggest Broad Ripple isn't really a village!)

My dream is to give people their Hyde Park houses, or even their Beau Lanes or Covered Bridges. Because I don't care if you're moving into a Victorian, an Arts and Crafts, or a brand new house, with time that house will hold more than just your stuff. It will hold your stories, and that's what makes it a home. And homes don't really ever disappear from our lives, even when the actual building is torn down. Homes, through those stories, are forever.

And for those of you who find this all too sentimental and sweet, don't worry, your day will come. Eventually, my honeymoon with this new career will end. There will be closings that go wrong, clients who decide they don't want to work with me, and long hours when I wonder why I started this journey in the first place. In addition, I want to use this space to share what I'm learning in a practical sense, to educate. What? You mean you want something practical NOW? OK.

 If your home is underwater or near underwater, check out the HARP program, which has been extended until December 31, 2015. Rocky Kobel from PNC mortgage talked to us today, and apparently many people still don't know about this program, which could them to refinance their mortgages even if they traditionally wouldn't be approved to do so. Eligibility guidelines and more information are available here: http://harpprogram.org/ Remember, the vast majority of mortgages in this country are Freddie Mac or Fannie Mae. The program is for mortgages on or before May 31, 2009. Feel free to ask questions! I can't guarantee I'll know the answer, but I'll  be happy to find out.