In-Town Sounds

The steady stream of street sounds, vespa beep-beeps, the voices of passers by, laughter, hollers, the vroom of motor cycles as they rev and pass...and in seconds are a distant rumble mixed with the call of seagulls as they soar overhead....and when there is a lull, the void, the quiet, it is noticeable, and in a moment it starts up again, only to trickle down once more.

This is the voice of town and it is great company, especially if you are a passive participant, a silent observer, quietly working inside with a door or window open.

There is an energy and an ebb and flow like the ocean and especially exciting on a holiday weekend.

Add to this the frangrance of town; sunbathers walking to the beach lathered in Coppertone suncreeen, roasting garlic and mixed grills from the restaurants that surround us and you feel like everyone is on their way to a wonderful summer party hosted by the spirit of Labor Day.

Then the town sleeps, and wakes up to another wonderful day for shopping and enjoying the cobblestone wharfs and sites of Newport. Have fun!

Full Circle

I was born in 1950. I have many memories, as do we all, but some of my most vivid are memories of the civil rights movement in our country, the United States of America.


I was a child, so pictures of other children affected me greatly. Little girls, like me only a different color, killed in church bombings, in what seemed to me like weekly events. I would watch wide-eyed in front of the ever-present tube.


If not church bombings, then missing and presumed dead, civil rights workers. Masses of people on peaceful marches for civil rights, being hosed down by horrid-looking men with fire hoses. Pictures of ridiculous groups in crazy get-ups actually killing other human beings. As my father was a news junkie, I saw it all. Because of my Dad, I saw on live TV, Lee Harvey Oswald being assassinated but Jack Ruby.

As an eighth grader, I was dismissed early from school, because of the assassination of our beloved President Jack Kennedy. Say what you will about him, he was a life changer because he gave people hope. His funeral is also something I will never forget. My family and extended family got together to watch it on TV.


One great thing though, when I was still in high school, when I had just arrived home from a date, at 11 or 12 midnight, and was about to slink off to bed, my father made me watch the men landing on the moon. I was about to retire and he would not hear of it. This is history! he said. Sit down and watch! I did and I will always be grateful to him for making me watch such an historic moment. I still have our copy of the Pawtucket Times with the photos of the historic moon landing. Thanks, Dad.


I loved Bobby Kennedy and Martin Luther King. When I was a senior in high school, both Martin Luther King and Bobby Kennedy were assassinated in the spring right before my graduation. I remember files of us high school kids walking somberly through the halls, listening to the intercom announcements. It is accurate to say our spirits were crushed and we were bereft. We were just beginning to hear of kids a year or 2 older being killed in the Viet Nam War. It was really incredible.


Last night, I witnessed another incredible event. I saw the selection of Barack Obama as the presidential nominee at the Democratic National Convention. If the nominee had been Hillary Clinton, it would have been just as momentous, in my opinion. After all, I did live through the Women’s Movement. If not as violent as the Civil Right Movement, a lot of lives were changed as a result, nevertheless.

I started to think what a great life I have lived, just by being an observer, and I am only half way through. I haven’t even factored in all the technological breakthroughs from 1950 ‘til now. It really is a mindblower. I’m very lucky to be a witness to such historic events, even if only on TV (unlike Forrest Gump!). Someday I will make a list of all the things I have seen and experienced.

Labor Day

You may remember my post from early August lamenting the transtion from July to August. That is like your 40th birthday while August to September is a little closer to the 60th. The crickets and cicadas are now in full swing and sweatshirts are now a necessity in the evening and mornings as that Fall chill creeps into the air. I looked at the weather forecast through Labor Day and it looks great but one thing stood out to me, all have highs in the 70's. Where have my 80's gone? The kids are really starting to sweat with many schools starting this week. Although the weather in September can be glorious and the crowds have all gone home there is a considerable difference between that glorious September day and a beauty in July. That drive to go to the beach is less, the projects that have been put off all summer are calling to you, the kids have transitioned into Fall sports and are now focused on practices, school work and the realitites of life. So as we head into this Labor Day weekend make an extra effort to put off all of those things that have been hanging over your head the entire summer and go out enjoy those glorious summer days as they should be one last time. We have all winter to catch up. Have a Happy Labor Day!

in praise of the vernacular

Prior to entering real estate, I was a total architecture snob. I couldn't imagine myself being interested in any kind of house other than an authentic & historic colonial - or a romantic Victorian, with a light & shade streaked porch & a polychrome slate roof - or possibly something in a clean looking McKim, Mead & White-ish colonial revival idiom. In other words, I yearned for something classic, pedigreed, and expressive of my values. However, life being the great teacher that it is, no sooner did I enter real estate than I found myself knee deep in ranch houses. Ranch houses. And not just any ranch houses, but ranches from the 60's and 70's, houses of that exact period & style that I'd always disdained as exemplifying the worst kind of vernacular architectural banality that there is. Yet here I suddenly was, expected not only to like them but to SELL them. Whatever, I told myself as I waded in, whatever.

Now, six months later, I'm a fan. Because what I've discovered in that time is that the ranch houses I've been dealing with provide me with something far more essential than sophistication or image - they feel like home, pure & simple. I grew up in the 60's. My friends & relatives lived in houses like these. There's a heady combination of vague smells in these house - the smell of thickish plaster & waxed hardwoods & dusty screens, of Old National Geographics & Readers Digests, smells redolent of boring Sunday afternoons & interminable family dinners - smells that seamlessly blend into the one single uber-aroma pervading my entire childhood; it's the smell of a thousand and one people, places & things I'll never see again.

So there's that. Then too, there's that hunkered down feeling of safety inherent in the low rooflines - kind of like huddling under an umbrella - that's as satisfying as playing under the dining room table on a rainy day. An attenuation in length that makes these one-story & split-levels seem more firmly entrenched in the ground, more truly dug in. Practical, no-nonsense structures, the design of which spells safety - comfort - shelter - as elemental as a house made out of wooden blocks. No doubt all these subliminal impressions are fueled by some last surviving vestigial remnant in me of childhood's most comforting illusion, the belief that hiding somewhere in the wings is a competent and sensible adult, efficiently running the whole show. Someone capable & trustworthy is in charge. Thank God. And would we all that it were so. Because of course, in the end it turns out there is only us.

So like I said, I'm a fan. I find myself looking forward to visiting and showing these house like you'd look forward to a visit to a spa, or a drink, or 10 milligrams of Valium after a long & brutal day. I can feel my blood pressure go down the second I push open the front door. And it's helped me recognize that what maybe I'm really looking for, as I endlessly search for the "perfect" house, is not an actual dwelling place, but rather a long-denied psychic balm for this one weary, middle-aged soul.

Desiderata

Desiderata

I have this on my desktop, and from time to time, open it and read it all the way through. It makes me feel at peace and although I am sure you are familiar with it, maybe you will enjoy an opportunity to read it, too.

Desiderata by Max Ehrmann

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
And remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
Be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly:
And listen to others,
Even the dull and the ignorant;
They too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
They are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
You may become vain and bitter;
For always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
It is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
For the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
Many persons strive for high ideals;
And everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
For in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
It is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
Gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
Be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe,
No less than the trees and the stars;
You have aright to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
No doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
Whatever you conceive Him to be,
And whatever your labors and aspirations,
In the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams,
It is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.

Max Ehrmann, Desiderata, Copyright 1952.

Tennis Anyone?

Saturday was off to a beautiful start, with a request from a young boy who never asks for anything.
"May I please get a new tennis racquet today? "
"One that I pick out all by myself?"

This request was enormous because it represented a new level of independence, empowerment and passion for a sport that up until Saturday seemed as though it was just a fun thing to do during the summer.

We stopped by the International Tennis Hall of Fame a few doors away from our Lila Delman Real Estate office and picked out a nice new red racquet and learned that The Champions Cup was about to start.

The next request, "Can we stay and watch the match?" made me realize that my budding young tennis player was really interested not only in his new racquet, but in learning the game by watching the champions of the sport play on center court.

When you live in Newport to experience the unusual is usual.

Being there to witness the stuff dreams are made of is a beautiful thing, and any encouragement along the way stays with you for life.

When John McEnroe stopped and said hello that was a kind gesture, which will leave a lasting impression.

The miracle of real estate

Ok, riddle me this all you more experienced agents: What is the scoop on the whole burying of St. Joseph upside down? What does it mean? Why upside down? Everyone seemingly has a different take on it...Some say it started with St. Theresa burying St Joseph medals on a parcel of land her convent was trying to buy; others claim that it's because St. Joseph is the patron saint of homes and carpenters. Others claim it has nothing to do with the saint at all, that the efficaciousness is the result of the prayers sent heavenwards while the little burial ceremony is taking place. It FEELS like it might be an Italian-American thing, although I don't have any proof. But the Italians are big on St. Joseph...very, very big.

My own brush with the phenomenon came not as a realtor, but as a seller. My boyfriend Ron put his house on the market last summer, and it promptly languished there for the next 6 months, without even a flicker of interest from the outside world. By January we were beginning to feel desperate. He'd gotten a St. Joseph statue as a joke stocking stuffer for Christmas, and one day I thought to myself, "Oh, why the heck not?" and went out there and buried it in the front yard. Two weeks later the house was under contract.

Lynn Freeland swears by the St. Joseph miracle, although distressingly, just the other day, she informed me that you have to dig the statue back up afterwards. Uh oh. Who knew? Not me - mine is still buried by the front steps of Ron's old house. Am I headed for disaster? It's kind of worrying, since the good magic so obviously DID work...and I can only conclude that any reversal of its power will be equally effective, devastatingly so.

Block Island

One of my favorite places to visit during the summer is Block Island. To my amazement, there are people living in the State of RI that have never taken the 12 mile ride from Pt. Judith out to the Bermuda of the North! I take a vacation with my family there for a week every summer and my children start talking about our next visit as soon as we get off the ferry at the end of our stay. Many people think I am crazy taking a vacation to an Island that is about 18 miles from my house. However, those of you who have visited the Island know that it is so close yet so far from the mainland. The distance is purely psychological! Once you board the ferry the worries of home are left far behind. When you see the streescape of the Victorian Water Street appearing in the distance it is like returning to a familiarity that never seems to change. The wonderful beach with no beach passes required or fees to pay! The rolling terrain for that marvelous bike ride. Although there are mopeds available I have never and will never ride a moped or step foot in a cab. It is all about the bike, that is part of the fun.

One ofthe most beautiful strecthes in the Northeast is the bluffs that run along the southern end of the Island. At the Mohegan bluffs you can climb down a staircase of about 200 stairs to get to a beautiful and wild beach below. I could go on and on about this special place but for those of you who have not yet been to the BI get on a ferry and get over there before the end of this summer. You will not regret it!

If You're Driving Through Wickford

There is a little intersection in Wickford Village that really throws out-of towners for a loop. You can tell a person is unfamiliar with the road because they stop where there is no stop sign, don’t want to stop where there is a stop sign and aren’t quite sure what to do with the yield sign. Their heads start to swivel back and forth looking from one side to the other with a most bewildered look on the face.

You locals know where this is already, right? At the little bridge where Boston Neck Road, Brown and Phillips Streets all meet in this strange, triangular trap. Making it even more peculiar to the unsuspecting and uninformed driver are the three pedestrian crosswalks smack dab in the triangular intersection.
Brown Street (the street everyone refers to as ‘Main Street”) curves through the village and out over the bridge – there is no yield or stop sign there. The traffic is meant to flow smoothly through so as not to get backed up.

There is a stop sign on Phillips – that means STOP!! It is not fair that those folks have to wait a little bit longer but that is the design, so we live with it. You could actually sit there for quite a while in the summer. Newcomers assume it is like a 3-way stop intersection where everyone takes a turn – but no, not quite. Those people have a look like – Hey! When is it my turn!?? Sorry, you have to wait.

Then there is a yield sign at the end of Boston Neck (right across from Phillips) so you YIELD. If you want to turn right, proceed with caution. If you are trying to cross over to Phillips, TAKE EXTRA CARE. Watch out for the people sick of waiting to turn left onto Brown who could shoot out at you any second, and please, watch out for the pedestrians. They could be coming from literally 6 directions! And they are on vacation so probably a little bon vivant.

With the pedestrians added into the mix, pity the poor guy coming down Brown, uninformed about our quirks, and watch the head swiveling, deer in the headlights thing happen. He’ll stop – Is it my turn? – look around at everyone and then the guy in back of him will hit the horn! Go – you don’t have to stop!

There are actually very few accidents here, as far as I can tell. I think sometimes the unexpected actually makes people more cautious. It is a great little village and we love it just the way it is. Once you learn the rules of our quirky road, it is smooth sailing. And great shopping.

Investment advice from a poor realtor

My friend Erica has been house hunting, and so every Monday we have a standing date to go out and look at the cheapest, most "value"- laden properties in Newport - you know, the ugly places that are truly great deals if you can get beyond the 30 or 40 thousand it would take to make them even remotely do-able from an aesthetic standpoint. And what an education THAT'S been...there's a low-end smorgasbord going on here right under our noses!

People keep saying sort of vaguely that "this is a great time to buy" - we'll I'm here to tell you they're not lying, it IS. When Erica first started her search 5 months ago, there was not even ONE single- family house to be had for under $260,000, but now there's a whole bouquet of them to choose from and that list is seemingly expanding daily. This week we saw an almost 1600 square foot house, 4 bedrooms, 2 baths, built in 1900, full basement, updated electrical, slate roof, reasonable neighborhood, big yard that was listed for exactly $250 - and that's asking price, you know it'll go for less - right here in Newport. It was ugly as sin of course, but the defects were all cosmetic - green vinyl siding, mucho fake wood panelling - and underneath that unfortunate appearance, all the things that counted looked to be rock-solid. Erica ultimately decided she didn't want to live there, but what an investment for the right person. If I weren't a starving realtor I'd buy it myself...

Man Candy Lament

Any woman (or man) who sees this title knows exactly who and what I am talking about. Jim Rome - and the lack of sports radio talk shows that Rhode Island is suddenly left with -
or without.

A month or two ago we who LOVE SPORTS in Rhode Island – Red Sox, Patriots, URI Basketball and perhaps PC basketball, were left in the lurch when our sports radio station one day was GONE. It was unbelievable and shocking. As a woman and sports fan who really loves Jim Rome because he is so intellectual and really funny - and the clones are also some of the wittiest people on earth – I was shocked !!! when the station was pulled all of a sudden. I was amazed to find out that one of my colleagues – Laura – was also a huge fan of the Jungle. We cracked up at the wit and wisdom of Jim Rome. Now he is gone (we know he is on TV in the afternoons but we are working. (That is what what makes talk radio so great – we can listen while driving to appointments)


What the heck happened?? Anyone who can tell Laura and me where we can listen to Jim Rome on the radio, listen to the clones, listen to the Smack Off, please help us!!!! If you do not know what I am talking about – just picture hours of driving around in your car and hearing things that made you laugh out loud they were so topical and funny. Banging on the steering wheel, so funny. We miss our guys.

I really wanted to hear what Jim had to say about Man Ram going to LA. That was his DREAM! My NIGHTMARE! Baby, come back!

Andy, Scott (now on Saturday mornings for a bit), Jim (Man Candy). Boo hoo, Any help for us?

10 things to do in Narragansett this summer!

As in my previous blog I lamented about the transition from July to August I thought it might be a good time to highlight some of the things that must be done prior to the end of the summer. I am going to focus on Narragansett although one of these lists can be made for many of our Towns and I challenge my fellow bloggers to follow up with such a list or add their favorites to my list. My list tends to have an adult slant to it but I am more than happy to hear about family favorites too! They will not be in any particular order but here they are!

1) Spend a day at chair 1 at Narragansett Town Beach.

2) Go to Galilee and take a ferry to Block Island for the day.

3) Pull a small boat up to the mouth of Narrow River at the North end of Narragansett Beach and spend the entire day there.

4) Lunch or dinner at Aunt Carrie's

5) Have at least 1 lobster roll at Twin Willow's

6) Have a cocktail on the Deck at Amalfi on a Sunday afternoon with the diverse and interesting beach crowd.

7) Have a barn fire at Sand Hill Cove beach.

8) Ride a bike to the Pt Judith Lighthouse and have a picnic there.

9) Go dancing at the Towers on a Thursday night.

10) Look for crabs under the rocks at low tide at the South end of Narragansett Town Beach.

I have probably missed all kinds of things and I would love to hear the thoughts of our readers. However, I am going to make sure that I scratch each item off of my list before the end of the summer and I hope to add some new ones too!

Home and Haven

I have lived in Rhode Island my entire life. The first 47 years were spent living in the middle of the state. Never believing myself to be one with the “Rhode Island” mentality of distance, I felt as though I was a rebel and had pretty much seen all there was to see in the biggest little state in the union. I could not have been more wrong.
A little shy of three years ago I found myself looking for a new home. Circumstances sent me looking not only for a new residence but a new life and lifestyle as well. Wanting to break old habits and molds, I left myself open to any and every opportunity looking at prospective properties in a variety of communities. Slowly I started creeping in a southerly direction. East Greenwich, North Kingstown, and Saunderstown were investigated. Over the bridges, omitting the woods, to Newport, and Middletown we viewed. Till finally, there it was – a sprawling property with ocean views, more than adequate space and all the fixings necessary for a new beginning. I now call Narragansett home and haven.
There is serenity about this community. Even among the hustle and bustle of summer activity there is a prevailing calm. I have yet to, and believe I never will, tire of the feeling that spontaneously washes over me every time I get that first glimpse of the ocean as I travel down South Pier Road. It is a sight to soothe the soul and one that immediately lowers your blood pressure. Imagine the cherished memories one may have of a vacation at the beach being lived out each and every day. I can choose from a variety of beaches, dine al fresco under a full moon shining on the ocean and stroll quaint village shops at will. Even the off season is filled with special activities and memory making events. In fact, our first Christmas here I still remember my surprise when turning onto Ocean Road one December night luminaries dotted the seawall as far as the eye could see. The beauty and majesty of the ocean is as breathtaking on a gorgeous sunny day as it is on a gloomy stormy one.
The locals walk their path day after day pushing children in strollers and leading dogs on leashes. Couples dot the scenery holding hands and gazing at the stars. Biker enthusiasts park their prized possessions for all to see and artists comb the shoreline for inspiration and props. There is Dancing at the Towers and Orchestra on the Beach to satisfy your culture cravings. And, surfing, sailing and kayaking put you up close and personal with the wonders of the water while a multitude of road races challenge your stride on land.
Just recently I ventured out late one afternoon to collect mail at the village post office. If this congers up visions of old it should as it is like stepping back in time to a simpler place. After being greeted by name and exchanging pleasantries I decided to venture further into the Pier, the hub of this town. The next hour was spent viewing the fresh local produce offered in a quaint marketplace and window shopping through the various boutiques. My adventure was topped off with an Italian treat of espresso poured over a decadent gelato. My routine errand turned into an afternoon delight with no effort or planning on my part. That’s Narragansett for you – the magic just happens.

An Extraordinary Gift Amid the Day to Day

There is an annual phenomenon that occurs every year from mid to late summer along Route Scenic -1 A just outside of Wickford Village. The most beautiful water lily pond puts on a show for all the passersby to appreciate.

The natural beauty in an unexpected area literally stops people in their tracks. I can't tell you how many times I have seen cars whip around in a U-turn because the drivers cannot believe what they just saw.

Photographers, painters and people af all ages and types stand there and ooh and ahh over the little pond. Very small, and squeezed in along the side of the road, this sweet pond and its drop-dead gorgeous flowers have been gracing our world at least since the 1970s. How long before that and exactly what is its origin, I do not know but I intend to find out.

No one picks them, trods on them, or disturbs them in any way. It is if we know we are in the presence of something extraordinary and on some very deep level understand that it is a precious gift from nature. For once, we are able to look and not touch or disturb nature.

Don't they look like lotus blossoms? The gifts of the gods to mankind?