Maybe you’re Jacques Pepin and you can’t get your knife on over Formica.
“Property sells itself” is one of my favorite real-estate adages.
Turns out Mark Twain never actually said that cool thing about summer in San Francisco being the coldest winter ever. […]
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black And the dark street winds and bends. Past the pits […]
“The new residence was…to be of some mysterious size and proportion, which would make us both peculiarly happy ever afterwards…It […]