Just Horsin' Around - Thoughts on Central Texas Real Estate and More

It was a quiet, oddly still May afternoon in 1997 when I was walking down the drive to get the mail and noticed what looked like a Blue Norther on the horizon.  Odd . . . very odd for this time of year, unheard of, in fact. 

But I decided that I'd turn on the TV when I got inside and see if a thunderstorm was brewing and whether not I should put the horses in the barn.  When I got inside, I turned to Channel 6, the news station to the north of us, expecting to see the little white words up in the corner informing us of storms coming. 

Instead, the entire screen was an abstract painting of swirls of the reds, greens, and yellows of the weather map, with some ominous blacks thrown in, and the weatherman was oddly strained and excited.  I listened as he described the path of a batch of tornadoes that was heading from north to south (not the usual southwest to northeast) down the IH35 corridor, currently going through Salado, a town just minutes north of us, heading directly for the farm we'd moved onto in August 1996. 

I immediately decided NOT to put the animals in the barn - they would be much safer taking cover in the lower creek area crossing our property than in a pole barn during a tornado with the inevitable flying metal and posts.  My daughter grabbed a basket containing the tiny baby kittens and their mother and we got in the car and headed south.  (Yes, I know you're not supposed to do that, and I don't recommend it, but it's what we did.) 

As we were leaving, I called my husband on my cell phone to let him know we were on the way to Austin.  He said, "Why?  It's 3:05 in the afternoon; what are you going to have time to do here?"  I explained, and he immediately got on the weather website.  He later reported that Jarrell was covered with a large black blob - and then the weather radar locked up.

As we were driving south down IH35, listening to the radio station to the north, we could see police cars racing up IH35 in the other direction.  I remember thinking, "You REALLY don't want to be going that way."  We kept hearing on the radio, "If you can hear this and you're on the highway, you need to take shelter under an overpass."  Jess asked, "Mom, should we stop and get under that overpass?"  "How fast did they say it's traveling?"  "15 miles per hour."  "We're going 80.  We're not stopping." 

We arrived at Priority Copy, my husband's business in North Austin.  As the storm was still headed our way, he sent us on to our house in South Austin, which was unoccupied at the time.  He called us a while later to let us know that it was all over and that he was heading out to the farm to check things out and that we should stay in Austin.  "Not hardly!  If any of the horses are injured, I'm their Mom and I'm going to be there!"

So Jess and I headed back to Priority and we caravanned out to the farm.

Getting off the highway, we turned right to head out to our place.  We noticed that there was more activity than usual towards town, proper, but didn't realize until later, when we turned on the TV, how bad it really was in Jarrell that day.  I don't think anyone did at that point.  My husband went down to sign us up in case anyone needed a place to stay, after we heard that some homes were destroyed; there were lots of names on the list already.  But it was only over the next days that we realized the magnitude of what had happened to our little community - an entire neighborhood wiped off the earth, right down to the foundations (when we drove by a few days later on the way to visit friends on the other side of the devastation, there wasn't even any plumbing sticking out of the foundations, and on a street with no roads heading off of it, I got lost because there were absolutely no landmarks left, not even pavement on the road).  27 lives lost, including friends we'd made since moving there a short few months before. 

The devastation was almost overwhelming, but Jarrell pulled together, and with the support of people from all around the world, we came back.  And since then, whenever there's a need, the people of Jarrell are right there, offering a helping hand, passing forward the loving concern that they received in their own time of need. 

It's been ten years ago today.   There are new houses where the storm destroyed everything, and a park with a baseball field, and a new building where our city council meets, and life goes on, although we never forget those lost ones.  We, ourselves, though we had no physical damage (the tornado heading for our house turned east, and the one that hit the other side of town formed after we were already gone), are changed.  I pay much closer attention to the weather, and I still remember the odd feel of the air that day.  We have a storm shelter now (our son was in college in Annapolis and couldn't get through to us for three days, not knowing if he had any family left or not - he nagged us incessantly until we had one installed, and my husband, after the storm, was trying to figure out how to build a storm shelter that would hold us and 5 horses).  We feel more for those in other places who suffer these kinds of tragedies.  We hold life a little dearer, after the day the F5 came to town. 

I guess it's time to introduce you to the latest addition to the family, Joey. 

Joey came to us a few weeks ago as an 8 week old puppy.  (He was born on Valentine's Day.)

Joey's first name, after he'd been with us for about a week, was "Toast".  This because he is (the photo to the right notwithstanding) the color of lightly toasted bread, for the most part, and also because "If you do that one more time, you're toast!"  And, of course, he'd always do it just one more time to see what "you're toast" meant. 

His second name was Luke.  (Don't ask me why, my husband came up with it and it seemed to sorta fit.)

Then, one day, I was feeding the two dogs and the ten cats on our back porch.  J.D., our year-old heeler, decided that he would take a bite out of Luke's bowl, Luke being a tiny puppy and low man on the totem pole.  There was this deep growl, and J.D. backed off instantly.  

We were irresistibly reminded of an episode of the TV show "Friends", the one where Joey Doesn't Share Food.  And Joey became, at that moment, Joey - and it fits him admirably. 

Here is a photo taken a couple of weeks ago of J.D., about one year, and Joey, about 10 weeks, just hangin' out on the porch at the farm.  Just to give you an idea of relative size - Joey is MUCH bigger now.  (Mama was a Chocolate Lab cross; Daddy was the neighbor's Great Pyrenees, we're told.) 

 They're great buds.  J.D.'s the one who'll let anyone who approaches uninvited know that they'd better not mess with his Mom, his farm, or anything relating to them (though if he's told, "J.D., they're invited!" by one of His People, he's all wiggles and requests for petting).

I suspect Joey's going to be the one who, like our previous G.P., just sits there beside me when strangers appear, not actively threatening, but making it clear that he could just fall on them if they should do anything untoward.

We were "between dogs" for a while, until J.D. ("Just Dog) came along, and a farm without a dog is a sad things.  Life is much better down on the farm now that we have two (and the cats are very happy that J.D. has a friend and doesn't try to get them to play with him). 

A blog by Jay Spencer, The Big Debate:  Technology vs. Touch, got me to thinking about how people view technology and the emotions they invest in it. 

As far as I'm concerned, technology is a tool, nothing more, nothing less.  With, as everything, the vices of its virtues and vice versa. 

Technology can be used to hold other people at bay, obviously, to put an invisible wall between yourself and others, to avoid direct contact with them, if you're so inclined.  That's not so good for our business, and probably not so good for our health, both physical and mental.  Customers, also, can use technology to avoid the "discomfort" of actually working with an agent as long as possible, while getting work out of them, if they're afraid that direct contact will somehow commit them to something. 

On the other hand, technology can be used to reach people that we would otherwise never have met.  As an example, I've blogged about Meetup.com, where I've meet people with common interests that I otherwise would never have known existed.  We meet online and arrange meetups with groups at wine tastings, restaurants, whatever venues are appropriate to our mutual interests.  After meetings, between monthly meetings, we keep in touch via email.  It's a great way to network with people already pre-selected to have the same interests and, thus, something in common upon which to build a relationship.  I've also been involved in a years-long production of a magazine (that goes out in hard copy) that is put together entirely by volunteers who are spread all over the country, most of whom have never met in the flesh, and the publication is put together almost entirely via email.  We might not recognize each other (unless our photos are really good!) if we walked into the same coffee shop, but we know each other very well and are very good friends nonetheless.

Again,technology is a tool, like any other.  Whether it's good or evil depends entirely on the hand that wields it.  Whether it's a useful tool for prospecting and networking for real estate (and other) professionals also depends on how it's used. 

The work world is changing.  We all are experiencing it; Active Rain is even a part of that change.  What's causing that change?  The internet, in large part, because it makes it possible for us to work in one place while sitting in another. For us, as real estate agents, that impact comes in two different directions.

First, most of us telecommute at least to a small degree.  We access the MLS from home on our laptops; man of us have home offices and can do a great deal of work there, checking in to the office via phone and email.  

I, myself, have been part of a group of about 20 people who met online, decided to take on the project of producing a magazine (which goes out in hard copy in the mail, not an ezine), Simply Morgan:  The Journal of the Traditional Morgan Horse, and have been doing precisely that for going on 7 years now, while we live all across the U.S., in Canada, and Australia (with the occasional European or Scandinavian contributor) - and I think maybe four or five of us have ever actually met in person.  All done via telecommuting.  The file for the final hard copy printing can even be uploaded over the internet to the printer's FTP site or sent FedEx on a CD. 

But there's a larger overall potential impact, and that is where our clients may choose to live, with telecommuting available to them on an ever-increasing basis.   Also, for those of us who live and practice real estate in rural areas, the impact can be even greater in where our potential clients don't choose to live.  Given the choice of driving through traffic and looking up from your desk and seeing cubicles or traffic outside your window, or looking out your window and seeing the view above, many people would choose the latter if given the possibility while still being able to make a living.

For years, decades, small rural communities have suffered from a "brain drain" as their best and brightest young people had to leave for larger towns and cities in order to earn a living, even if they would prefer to stay closer to home.  With telecommuting, that is changing - and some small towns are taking deliberate steps to encourage companies to seek employees in their area without moving there lock, stock, and barrel.  This allows the communities to survive without the attendant problems that a major employer moving to town (with the possibility of them moving on in future) can cause, and allows the rural ambiance to remain.  People who are tired of living in cities who have jobs that are conducive to telecommuting can also move to the more rural areas that they prefer and still keep their high-paying jobs. 

And that's without even mentioning the environmental impact of a reduction in miles driven.  If telecommuting becomes popular enough, that could be dramatic.  Imagine people living not in bedroom communities, but in small towns all over the country, living the small town life, walking to the post office, the grocery store, and such, and not driving half an hour to work and back every day.  

While this is by no means the way things are for the majority of employees in this country, it is something that real estate agents need to keep an eye on, because it can and will impact both rural and small town communities and the larger communities that people will move away from.  Real estate values will be affected by this movement. 

It's exciting to contemplate.  And exciting to be a part of.  I live in a small rural community (about 1400 people, up 1200 from last year), one of our City Councilmen was born and grew up here, moved away to California, and then came back, but still has his job and goes to work in California every day from the comfort of his home in Texas.  We need growth, but there's been concern that running towards growth with our arms widespread is only going to destroy what we need to save.  Telecommuting, handled properly, offers an opportunity that I hope we seek to take advantage of - and its impact on my own business could be very interesting, as well. 

Kelly Turbeville's blog, Blog or Chat Room?, got me to thinking about not only what kind of animal AR is, but also why exactly I blog and why AR seems to speak to me when other blog sites don't always.  And I think that it's because the unique nature of AR - its "blog/forum" feel - speaks to the reason that I blog.

Some bloggers want to be the only ones to respond to comments written on their blogs.  This, to me, while fine for them, is stifling of the intent that I have when blogging and, indeed, when reading blogs. 

When I write a blog post, more often than not I'm trying to stimulate thought in my readers.  To me, if a reader comments and another reader responds to that reader's comment rather than waiting respectfully, hands folded, pretending that no other commenter exists, for me to get around to it, and a discussion results, that, to me, is evidence that I've succeeded in my aim.  The aim is not just to convey what I think, to set myself up as the expert on whatever I'm blogging about, but also to find out what others think about the same thing - I could learn something, it could happen, who knows?  And that's more likely to happen if there's lively discussion. 

This also means that the blogs that I consider the best are those that stimulate just that kind of lively discussion. 

Now, this is just my unique perspective on AR, colored largely by my own intent in participating here (which is, of course, to generate business, but originally and just as importantly, to network and build relationships and get to know the lot of you).  I could be an outlier, way out of touch with the rest of you.  What do you think?  What is your motivation in blogging on AR, and elsewhere? 

We're all sometimes looking for a particular recipe - one we loved long ago but lost, one that we had at a restaurant and would love to replicate, something perfect for an open house or to take to a potluck.  We can use the search feature here and we can use google, of course (google is your friend!), but sometimes that turns up dry, and sometimes it just helps to have fellow foodies search their cookbooks or recipe files.

So, this is the place to ask for help in finding that lost or sought recipe.  Simply put a comment here with your request, and if you have the recipe in question, post it to the group as a blog.  You'll be doing us all a favor. 

Jezebel Sauce is a traditional sauce from Lousiana (at least - may be traditional in other places).  I first had it with roast pork at the original Threadgill's Restaurant location in Austin, Texas.  (Yep, the very place where Janis Joplin got her first break.)

I mix up a batch and keep it in the refrigerator.  Great with cream cheese on crackers, served warm over roast pork or ham, and in a myriad of other ways. 

1 jar  apple jelly -- (10 ounce)
1 jar  pineapple fruit preserves -- (10 ounce)
1 jar  prepared horseradish -- (8 ounce)
1 tablespoon  ground dry mustard
1 teaspoon  cracked black pepper

In a small bowl, mix together apple jelly, pineapple fruit preserves, prepared horseradish, ground dry mustard and cracked black pepper.

Cover and refrigerate 8 hours, or overnight, before serving.

What is a ROT Rally, you ask?  Well, let me tell you.

A few years ago (a LOT of years ago), my daughter and I were returning from a horse club meeting at a farm north of Elgin.  We came the back way.  As we were driving the beautiful, twisty, turny back roads, a couple/three really nice motorcycles came over the rise.  Nice sight.  (Yes, I was a "biker chick" in a past life, only the bikes weren't Harleys, they were Triumphs and Nortons and BSA's and Vincent - I still admire a nice bike.)

Then some more.  And some more.  And some more.  Jess started counting; at 200, she stopped.  We stopped at a little convenience store that had more motorcycles than I'd seen in decades parked out front, with a bunch of VERY polite riders in assorted "colors".

The next day, we read in the newspaper that the Republic of Texas Rally had arrived in Central Texas, and what we saw was merely a drop in the bucket. 

Every year, the weekend after Memorial Day, the Republic of Texas Rally comes to Texas, has a parade downtown, has major events, and generally parties, with (are you ready for it?), live music.  And unlike Marlon Brando in The Wild One, far from being terrorized, the local townsfolk look forward to the arrival of the bikers and the 20-odd million dollars they bring to the local economy in one weekend.  Plus the fun, of course! 

If you're into bikes, even if you're not attending the rally, May 31-June 3, 2007, is a good time to be in Austin. 

Since this year I had to miss Eeyore's (can't be a show secretary at a horse show in Seguin AND dancing at Eeyore's party at the same time - I'm good, but not THAT good), I thought I'd let a local blogger's report on the 2007 event tell the tale. 

Keep firmly in mind that this is a fundraiser for nonprofits, now, okay?  And that it is the quintessence of keeping Austin weird, something we should all do every day. 

Next year, for sure.  I'm putting it on the calendar now.  (Of course, that means I have to go out and buy a 2008 calendar.)  Last weekend in April, every year.  Maybe we'll meet there? 

One of the property tax exemptions, one I'd not heard of until very recently, is an exemption similar to the agricultural exemption, but for use of private land as an ecological laboratory by universities.  Simply put, the private landowner allows the university to do studies of insect populations, native versus invasive plant species, and other related topics on their land.  This benefits the universities, benefits farmers, ranchers, ecologists, and the rest of us with the results of the research, and benefits the private landowner with a much lower tax valuation of their property resulting in lower taxes.  

It also allows property owners who would otherwise not be able to do so to leave their land idle, preserving its unique character. 

It's a rare exemption,with fewer than 100 people statewide applying for it.  This year, however, the tax appraisers are cracking down with a vengeance.  Properties are losing their eco lab exemptions or having their applications denied.  One wonders how that will impact the nature of our Hill Country, where our open spaces are precious to us and where agricultural use is limited due to the very nature of the land itself. 

The legislature is supposedly working to clarify the law that allows the exemption.  One hopes they'll do a good job of it.   I know I'll be keeping a close eye on it, now that I know about it.