2017 wasn’t just another benign blip on the calendar.
Yes, San Francisco has an Autumn.
The very act of taking a picture creates a small ritual for saying goodbye.
Everything – including the venerable Victorians on my block – will eventually fade away.
I could write a tome for each of my clients after close of escrow. Or I could write silly real estate poetry for my own entertainment.
30 years ago this month, I became a licensed Realtor.
With homebuyers, there’s always an unstated or indefinable list of needs that require some divination on my part.