(My Why) Wednesday - Roderick Smith

(My Why) Wednesday

WHO: Roderick Smith - Rod Enterprises LLC

WHAT: Ozarks Life - Local clothing and Lifestyle Store

WHERE: 221 E Commercial St., Springfield, MO

WHEN: Brick & Mortar 1 ½ years

WHY….. Dreaming and working to make a business successful

Ozarks Life

Around 2007 I found myself living in a loft apartment on C-Street. Alone for the first time, I was nervous in my new surroundings but plucking up my courage, I walked down my three flights of stairs and headed for the new coffee shop, Big Momma’s. As I walked in the door, I was greeted by Lyle Foster, the owner of the coffee shop, with a wide smile and a “Welcome to Big Momma’s!” I felt like I was home. I took my latte outside and sat staring at the buildings around me. It was vibrant, colorful and hopeful, much like the people I met that lived and worked there, the businesses, the street itself and my friend Rod Smith who made C-Street his business home.

I met Rod at 1 Million Cups, where he presented his business idea. He was in the process of moving his business into a brick and mortar store on C-Street with the dream of expanding his business globally. He was, and is passionate and committed to his dream.

Rod owns Ozarks Life, a local clothing and lifestyle store, and in his words “Rooted in the Ozarks, built for anyone who values creativity, and bigger thinking.” The store sells shirts, shorts, hats and more under the brand names Rod has trademarked including, Rodn Eggs which is his own lifestyle brand, It also includes Alliróg. Rod also has a faith based brand called Aroctee which includes scriptures printed backwards so you can read them in a mirrored image.

Ozark’s Life

Anyone that ventures into business on C-Street has a unique perspective on the world because it’s not easy to change people’s minds about a place that, in the past, has been forgotten, but there is an optimism that persists and drives more and more business to open their doors on this historic street, and by the way, one of my favorite places.

Roderick grew up in Springfield. He went to school here, played basketball in high school, and then worked in the grocery business before deciding to pursue his dream on C-Street. When I walked into his store the first time, I could see his vision, the one he had talked about the year before. It’s a gorgeous place and it fits him perfectly.

I’ve heard him talk about the dream he has for himself and the dream he hopes others feel about “becoming stronger, to dream bigger, to be proud of where you come from and to stop letting the world define who you are.” “Every brand in his store stands for something. Alliróg is the evolution of strength. Ozarks Life is proof that greatness can come from overlooked places. RodnEggz is for the dreamers, bold enough to hatch differently. Together, they represent one belief. What you wear reflects what you stand for.” Rod started this journey with one idea “Greatness doesn’t ask for permission, it simply begins. One idea, one shirt, one person at a time.”

“What you wear reflects what you stand for”

He and I talked about business several times, because I’ve been hanging out on the entrepreneur limb since I was 27 years old. It is a scary place to be at times, but every person that starts a business has certain personality traits, eternal optimism, perseverance, and a high tolerance for pain. We will take risks that others won’t take and we will question our life choices on a daily basis, but still move forward anyway. There is something in knowing that you are the one deciding how your life will look and it takes courage to continue even when it feels like you might not be able to push that rock up the hill before financial disaster occurs. No, it’s not the life for everyone but for the few and the committed, it’s a dream.

Talking about business

It’s A wonderful life

Rod says the movie of his life would be “It’s a Wonderful Life” because perception, outlook and gratitude mean more than the actual events happening in the reality of our lives. He has a strong desire to make this business a success, but the thing nobody prepares you for is that you might know what you are doing, but you do not know what to do! You are trying to build a system for your business having never done it before.

Talking to Rod one day, I shared my own journey of starting a new business. When I started my restaurant in December of 2008, my daughter and I had never owned a restaurant, I couldn’t cook and my daughter was pregnant with her first child. We opened with no fanfare, which in hindsight was for the best. The community came in to see what this new coffee shop was all about (thanks to Lyle at Big Momma’s for giving me inspiration). Curiosity got them in the door, but their love and kindness kept us in business. They wanted to see us succeed because they saw how hard we were working and they watched us pivot and grow our business.

Rod has been paying it forward his entire life. He lives a life of service and I’ve watched his kindness in action. I know how hard he is working to make his business grow, and I encourage you to make a trip to C-Street and see what he is doing at his shop. Make a decision to reflect what you stand for and invest in a local business. I promise, it will be appreciated.

Ozark’s Life is located at historical C-Street, 211 E Commercial Street, Springfield, MO.

(417) 307-0881

Find him at ozarkslife.com

And at Ozarks life apparel on FB

Ozarks Life

211 E Commercial Street,

Springfield, MO

Open Tuesday - Saturday

You can find me selling houses at House Theory Realty when I’m not out exploring the Ozarks.

Christmas Past, Present & Future

It’s going to be nearly 75 degrees today, Christmas Day. I’m walking in the woods that I love, looking for signs of life besides my own. I’ve stacked loads of branches, one on top of the other trying to keep the trail clean and I wonder what the squirrels, rabbits, raccoon and deer think of my project. Do they find it absurd, the cleaning of the woods? Maybe they appreciate when the snow falls and a predator is near. Maybe they are glad I keep the trail neat and tidy. There is so much beauty around me, even without the snow. I heard someone say once that they loved this world and would be so sad to leave it, even with all the strife and ugliness we sometimes endure.

Have you ever just wanted to stop time? I feel myself in the middle of a road that no matter how many times I hold my hands out, as if I can stop myself from moving, I realize that I’m further down that road. Today, I want to go home. I want to be a child again in my parents home with the cedar tree that my mother cut with an axe for Christmas, and the branches from the bottom that my father removed and then tied to the middle to fill it in. I want to pop popcorn and string it together and hang it from the branches and whisper to my younger siblings that Santa has indeed been to our house. I want sled rides and ice skates situated at the bottom of my grandparents stairs waiting for us to put our too small of feet in them, but doing it anyway because who can resist the skating pond?

I’m scared of the day my dad treats me as the adult I am, when he asks me what my analysis is of him, of his health, and I’ll know that I truly am an adult with no more pretense.

I’ve said over and over that no matter the situation there is always something right around the bend, that everything that looks terrible today could pave the way for something wonderful. It’s what keeps me moving forward. When I was 11 years old I lost my brother and my parents lost their son. We went from a family of six to a family of five and the heartbreak was unmeasurable. A year later my parents welcomed a baby boy and then two years after that, a baby girl. With that terrible loss came unexpected joy. Not a replacement but something that healed some of the pain. Life is a series of surprises. It’s the only thing I really know.

I started this morning writing down the things that I’m grateful for, lest I forget and I don’t want to forget. My mom phoned this morning while doing her usual list of holiday traditions. She was in the middle of making homemade dressing, while ticking off the things that were finished already. The rolls are done. Tick. The cranberry dressing is in the fridge. Tick. They are having two small turkeys this year but they don’t need to go in the oven quite yet. I can hear Dad in the background talking to my brother. Mom is mentioning a just thought of, but perfect place to put her beloved Christmas village and I know my father will be enlisted to help. They are moving around the too small kitchen in a familiar pattern, graceful as a dance. I envy my mother’s ability to keep all the plates in the air. The gravitational pull to their home, my home feels the same for nearly every person that has ever stepped foot in the place. It is Christmas in the canyon.

I am grateful for this life, short as it is and for all the people that have brought me to this point. May we always look forward towards tomorrow even as we pay homage to our past.

Love In Abstract

Love In Abstract - The Beginning

Out of the darkness I fell, forward with a staggering gait

Into the blue

Into the light

Gazing at the wall before me

Panicked at the thought of a lock I couldn't pick

The foothold I wouldn't find

Stressing the need for a line I shouldn't cross

In case I was blind 

Out of the darkness I fell

Love in Abstract - The Middle

Fingers entwined and promises made on a snowy day

Not of marriage

No, not of marriage

But of death 

Said in jest

Just in case

But a promise all the same

I will be yours and you will be mine

Love In Abstract - The Commitment

In the spring, in a well lit room you stood close, plucking my heart from beneath my ribs

Carefully

Easily

Holding it in your hands like a well worn timepiece

It's beat keeping time with yours

That's what I remember 

In the summer you brought it back to me, laying it down between us

Carefully

With trepidation 

Watching me, watching you

Waiting for the break

Waiting for the return to its rightful place

Its rightful place was always you

Love in the abstract - The Last Chapter

365 Days

Since

You gave yourself to me

With a word

365 Days

My Hand

Always in your hand 

Yours in mine

365 Days

We Cried

Shoulder to shoulder

Drying each other's tears

365th Day

I watched 

While you left in one breath

Without fear, you were gone

Dear E

My darling E,

I watched you play for the first time in front of an audience and you were wonderful, and my note is not for the expertise or the creativity that you displayed but for the courage you have. Your vulnerability is a trait I cherish.

I knew you were nervous so my advice to look down at your guitar, don’t look at the audience until you are comfortable, don’t worry about making a mistake, just play through it are things I can say to you, but are things I don’t have the courage to do. Don’t get me wrong, I have courage for others but I don’t have it for myself. What makes you special to me is, you have both and that is rare. Trust me, in a world where fitting in is the goal, it takes courage to step outside the lines and be unique, but it also helps when others feel they can be themselves too.

I sat and watched you, tennis shoes turned in towards each other, your thin frame bent over your instrument, and I remembered holding you as a baby. Your eyes would hold mine and your mouth would mimic mine as I talked to you, hoping you would know how much I loved you. I still feel that sense of wonder and love now.

I’m proud of you and I’m in awe too. I hope you never lose that sense of yourself and the wonder of the world you inhabit. I’m going to try and be a little more brave too.

Love you much,

M

Frozen Apple Pie & Olive Garden

This morning started out as every Monday starts, get up, doom scroll for an hour, take a shower, drink a smoothie and go to work. Simple. Instead of a shower, I chose the bath and maybe this was the instigator of all my trouble, because I suddenly started experiencing flashing lights in the peripheral vision of my right eye. This lasted for about 15 seconds and then there seemed to be a lot of floating debris clouding my vision. I wasn’t panicking, but the thought that I could suddenly go blind occurred to me, so I hurried out of the bath, got dressed and made a desperate call to my eye doctor. An hour later my husband was instructing me to put my seatbelt on for the 10th time, with the kind words “I don’t want you thrown into the windshield, so put on your belt!” Petulantly, I complied and we were off to the doctor’s office.

After “puffing” air into both eyes, scanning them with some sort of machine and then dropping stinging drops of hell into both eyes to dilate them, I waited patiently for the doctor to tell me I was going blind and would need surgery to correct it. While waiting, I mentally went through my bank account deducting what I was sure would be a $10,000 dollar bill not covered by my $12,000 dollar insurance deductible. After the doctor finished thoroughly examining my eyes, he told me that I was fine, and he was kind about it. No torn retina, no big cataract, just old age…. He mentioned the floaters would eventually migrate south (much like my breasts) and would hardly be noticeable (again, much like my breasts). I also pointed out the large stye on the left eye, but because of my droopy eyelids, it mostly covered the stye like a lowered window shade. He just nodded and suggested warm, moist heat. I suppose there is an advantage to droopy eyelids under some circumstances.

I settled my bill and waIked over to tell my husband the good news. “Welcome to senior citizenship” he chuckled. I didn’t laugh.

He opened the door for me then climbed into his side of the truck and proceeded to rummage through his truck. I stared at him with a questioning look until he handed me a large pair of dark glasses to keep the sun from burning my eyeballs. My look was complete.

“Where do you want to eat?” he asked, as I thought about the options available at 10:47 AM. I popped off a couple of names but noticed that he never turned his head in my direction. I knew where we were headed. We pulled into the Olive Garden and stopped. “I think they’re open” he stated, looking around at about ten cars parked in the lot. I didn’t see any blinds up and suggested that maybe they weren’t quite open yet. “Well, I need to gas up the truck anyway.” We pulled away and headed for the gas station. After filling the truck, we found our way back to the Olive Garden at 11:01 and proceeded to park the truck. We walked across the parking lot and got in line behind the rest of the gray haired people assembled at the locked doors. A young blond haired girl opened the doors and we all crowded in line. We stood behind a bald man with eyes tattooed on the back of his head. I got the joke but felt it was a bit petty of me to wish the tattoo artist had done a little better job. It was a one color job (blue), and felt very one dimensional. The fold at the bottom of his neck did resemble a mouth and I wondered if his wife had been the instigator of this misadventure. My husband snorted and ducked his head. When we finally shuffled inside, there was a jaunty 1940’s big band song playing and I could feel the urge to do the “Lindy Hop”. The hostess greeted us at the front, took our name and we moved over to the side to wait. I overheard her asking a younger waiter why they were putting the mats out because it wasn’t raining and she felt they were a “death trap” and with this crowd, it was probably true. A young waitress called our name and walked us through the restaurant towards a back room. For a young girl, she walked especially slow and I wondered if it was for our sake. We finally found a table near the back of the room. I took my large black sunglasses off and laid them on the table, looking around at the clientele. I calculated how much time I had before the waiter would be over and decided to make a quick run for the bathroom. With Dean Martin crooning to the background of my life, I stepped into the first stall. Glancing to my left I saw a neatly folded pair of flowered cotton underwear sitting on top of the toilet paper dispenser. I didn’t ask myself why, I just moved on to the next stall, envisioning my life as a sitcom with the perfect accompanying music, the Glen Miller Band.

I walked back towards our table and got lost, even after making a mental note that I needed to turn where the wall of wine bottles sat. Nope, apparently there is more than one wall of wine in Olive Garden. The bald man with the eyes tattooed on the back of his head smiled at me as I passed by for the 3rd time. How hard can it be? I finally found our table, sat down and told my husband that Olive Garden is where “youth goes to die”. It’s the place you go because you can eat lunch for $10.00 and all the waiters will ask if you know how to use the gizmo at the table to pay your bill. They will mention that there is no shame in not knowing because “nobody” knows how to use it and this is code for "old". Yes, I recognize myself in the mirror.

Several years ago I owned a really great restaurant and it wasn’t great because I cooked the food, it was great because OTHER people cooked the food, my daughter, for one. I spent years being an insufferable food and coffee snob, but now the only person I try to hide my Olive Garden trips from is my daughter. She probably doesn’t care, but she did look mortified when she caught me in the aisle at Walmart buying a frozen apple pie for Thanksgiving one year, so I try to hide my slide into decline from her.

My husband and I ramble back out of Olive Garden and across the parking lot as I put my dark sunglasses on. He helps me into the truck and we head for home. The floaters are clouding my vision and for once, I don’t care because I’m not going blind and that’s something to be grateful for.

If People Were Dogs

My mom is a rat killer, and by that I mean, if she were a dog she’d be a Jack Russell terrier. Once she sinks her teeth into something there is no letting go. I say this with love and pride because no one will ever match Sherry Lott as a warrior.

I watched her go toe to toe with a Tabby (Tabiona, a small town in Utah or Tabby for short) mom who unwittingly denigrated my brother on the basketball court by calling him a “dirty player”. My mother stands 5 '0 at best, but she has a pointer finger that lands like a pistol when she points it at whomever she is about to give the “good word” to. In this case it was a 5’6, long legged mom with cowboy jeans, boots and a belt buckle the size of Texas. Standing in the middle of the basketball court after the game, the two women circled each other with the husbands standing slightly behind like point guards, looking as if they would rather be anywhere than this place. I, the ref, stood between the two and called for calm. I could have told the Tabiona woman that my mother can and will wrestle you to the ground just because she can, and insulting her child will absolutely not stand. My mother is a rat killer.

I only tell this story because my husband and I talk about people and animals often. He is also a rat killer and I love him for it. He gets an idea in his head and he will go down every tunnel, read every book, call every person who might be able to put an idea into action and then the game is on. I watch in amazement as he pulls together an idea and turns it into an enormous event that actually helps people. Yes, he is a rat killer too.

When I asked him what animal he thought I might be, he had to think for a minute. Suddenly he blurts out “You are a Bouvier”.

“What?” I looked at him in confusion.

“Yes, it's a large, powerful herding dog, like a poodle, a fancy poodle”. He states without a whiff of sarcasm.

“A poodle? You think I’m a poodle?” I’m incredulous!

“Yes, a fancy herding dog.” He puts the emphasis on “fancy”. He is driving and seems to be oblivious to the look on my face. "Well, you do try to herd people into doing what you want them to do.” He stares at me, eyebrows raised.

When we arrive home, I do a quick search of the Bouvier. This is what I found.

“The Bouvier des Flandres is a large herding breed from Belgium with a sturdy body to pair with its wiry fur, floppy ears, bearded face, and fluffy appearance. This confident, powerful dog is an expert at putting their size and intelligence to work.

The breed's beard is one of its most recognizable features. In fact, Bouvier's Dutch nickname, vuilbaard, means "dirty beard."

I decided right then and there to avoid talking about what could become my very first nickname.

It is true that I might attempt to “guide” people in a direction that would be beneficial for them. I’m not sure that I “herd” them but maybe those two words amount to the same thing.

This morning as my husband sits down by my side at 5:00 AM to talk about biochar and its ability to clean up hazardous material in the soil, people he can contact to help move his ideas forward, letters he can write, I know he has a bone that he is not going to let go of. He tries to describe his role in this chain and I say he is the “YATTA” man, or “you ought to do” it man. My rat killer. “Go get 'em!”

The Beauty of Words

“Am I losing my mind?”

I’ve heard that phrase numerous times over the years but it never really hit me until a few days ago. I called a friend because I know that she is sane and reasonable and I asked her if she suddenly found herself playing charades with people because her words were gone. She immediately told me that she “indeed lost her words, and on a fairly regular basis”.

“Thank God!” I said to her and to myself. She explained that she felt we had so much information in our brain over time, that sometimes the brain cleared space on the shelves for more information. That probably explains it, but why do I feel that when my brain is clearing space, it seems to have thrown out my coffee, the cups, cooking utensils, sacks of flour, salt, baking soda and left me with several unopened bottles of powdered Alum and a half eaten jar of refrigerated pickles way past their expiration? I can remember the vocation of a person I met once three months ago, but I can’t remember the name of my friend who I have known for years when I’m called to introduce them.

I’m going to say it’s menopause, or maybe it really is the amount of information I’ve stuffed into my brain over a lifetime.

I’m the keeper of memories. My mother calls me when someone has a question about Grandma’s house. “Where were the Fig Newtons in Grandma’s kitchen?”

“In the lower cupboard, on the left, by the stove.”, I say

“Where did she keep the family photo albums?”

“In the pink bedroom, at the top of the clothes closet.” I close my eyes as I conjure up people and places from long gone.

I seem to be able to remember everything that doesn’t matter. Tidbits of information that are nailed down in the cupboards of my mind and I wonder if I should let them go. I can’t be the only person with this problem. I fume when it happens to me, so much so that I refuse to stop my thoughts to find the word I’ve forgotten. I will pursue other words, similar but not the same. I have acted out a sentence because the words will not come to me, and for all of this, words are the one thing I’ve always counted on and loved. They make a great argument and describe the world I live in. They tell the ones I love how much they mean to me. I read Dickens because no one could describe the world in such color and description as he could.

When I was a child, my dad would pull out the encyclopedia and pick out words that would challenge our knowledge. Now that my parents are in their 80’s, my mom insists that when we visit we pick out things we want around the house. Of all the items, the only thing I really wanted was four large books entitled, “Universal Dictionary Of The English Language” that I tagged. They had been in the lower part of the curio cabinet in my Grandma and Grandpa’s house, and as a child I would sit for hours reading the books. The person that understood my obsession with words was my Aunt Nancy, or my Dear Miss Tulip, as I called her for nearly 20 years. I wrote to her that I had landed the treasured Universal Dictionaries and she immediately emailed back that she had loved those same books! She said that a few boys on the school bus teased her about her red hair, and in figuring out her perfect revenge, found the perfect word in the Universal Dictionary Of The English Language. Her sentence stunned them into silence, not sure what to make of the magnificent word, they turned around and fell silent. Such a feeling of satisfaction.

When looking back at our correspondence, I found a part of a letter that perfectly explains why we were so similar at times. From my Aunt Nancy, written April of 2022.

“There are a few poems by the Bronte sisters and then a short article by George Eliot, "Silly Novels by Lady Novelists", which was published in October 1856. This is not a long essay - perhaps twenty pages, but it has brought me to attention. I have read it, and come out of the chair... I will read it again, and maybe again. But not today. I had forgotten what it is to be really challenged. For many years I have sustained the faint thought that I have an above average vocabulary- at least where reading is concerned. Not today. Today I have been reminded that we do not really read anymore... at least not anything challenging. We sip at the written word - rather than taking in great gulps of the ideas and descriptions we used to savor. When I tell you I came out of my chair, put my covering afghan into the washer, straightened my robe and marched to the desk... you can realize that I am fired up. I am energized by the written word. WOW!!! George Eliot is magnificent. It is thrilling to see someone master the English language so beautifully.”

Oh how I loved her reply! This is why I love the English language and the reason for my angst and frustration when I can’t pluck that perfect word from the overstuffed recesses of my mind.

There is beauty in the perfectly placed sentence and I feel that I’ve neglected my writing since Tulip passed away. I suppose it’s time to get started again.

As I read through our old emails, I found these words written near the end of her life.

With you I have laughed

and wept

and worried

and planned and dreamed.

With you I have lived and not been sorry

and looked backwards with thanksgiving

and forward with hope.

It is still snowing.... large feathery flakes and quite beautiful. I may watch the garden disappear under its white blanket and then go back to bed. I think I will be glad to start the next round of meds, and hope they will help with the breathing. Funny, how something we do all our lives and never think about can become such a top of the list, worrisome thing when we have to work at it.

I LOVE YOU.

Miss Tulip

"My Why Wednesday" Staging for Success

Why is it that some people can make a cow shed look like a castle? What is it that causes them to see the world, and especially the space around them in a colorful and different way than the rest of us?

An Actual Converted Cow Shed in Spain

I have a friend, Christa Hall, who transformed her 1930’s bungalow into a magical space with colorful prints, floral tablecloths and a variety of colors on the walls. She saw things that I would have never thought of, so I thought I’d pick her brain about her process. Here are a few of the tips she had to make your house into a magazine worthy home, and get the best price possible when you sell.

Don’t be afraid of color.

Don’t be afraid of mixing different patterns together.

Mix and match different wall hangings but look for a central color scheme

Furniture & Pictures size should match the size of the room and walls..

It doesn’t have to be expensive to look good.

Find focal points in the room

Find things that you love, unless it’s universally disliked. (We’ll talk about that later.)

Let’s talk about color. There is a theory that you should paint your home in a neutral color before selling and sometimes that is good advice, especially if the home will be vacant when you list it, but if you are still living there, let’s make the best impression possible and color can be your friend. Even dated colors like Forest Green or Mauve can be trendy if paired with the right wall prints and patterns.

Using color & pattern

Christa’s version of a versatile bedroom/snug (British for small, comfortable room.)

Prints and Patterns…. When I was younger it was considered gauche to mix a floral pattern with, let’s say a checkered pattern, whether it was clothing or furnishings. Everything was matchy, matchy and this is what dates your home. Now, you can mix and match as long as you have a common theme or color amongst the furnishings. This also applies to wall prints. As long as you have a common color that runs through the prints, photos or paintings you can pair them together.

Patterned curtains w/colorful pillows & vintage lamp

Warming up a small space with patterns

Christa utilized a sweet, patterned curtain to go with a whimsical table cloth and wall hangings

Ask a friend if you’ve gone to far…

Color or prints are wonderful within reason.

Size matters when you are furnishing your rooms or decorating the walls. I know what it’s like to go to Furniture Row and pick out a matching set of living room furniture in beige, complete with the large overstuffed sectional, dragging it into my 1950’s ranch style house where it looked like an overstuffed sausage. I forgot that living rooms in the 1950’s were much smaller and accommodated things like a divan or davenport, as my grandmother called it. For some of you that are too young to know what that is, it’s a couch.

When you are getting ready to sell your home, evaluate the size of the room with the amount of furniture you have placed in there. You might decide to take a few of the pieces out and store them, or better yet, sell them. Another mistake people make is putting every piece of furniture against a wall which leaves a huge space in the center of the room. It’s awkward, much like the pause I get when I ask for real butter for my pancakes at a Denny’s. Moving furniture away from the walls creates a more cozy atmosphere and allows more options for placement. It will also make the room appear larger.

The Wallflower

Try having a conversation with this arrangement…

Common Mistakes

When you bought everything in the store but forgot your home is not willing to ACCOMMODATE your whims…

Comfortable & Cozy

Christa has used the small space well to accommodate her furniture while making it look spacious and inviting.

When placing pictures or a gallery of pictures, take note of the size of the wall in comparison to the size of the picture. A 5 X 7 picture on a 13 foot wall will sit there like an unwelcome guest, alone and pitiful. Also, framed paintings or pictures should be at eye level. Don’t place them over the hole in the wall where your old air conditioning unit used to be just because you don’t want to fix the problem. I can tell you from experience that people will notice.

Lonely…

Perfect!

Perfect size art for the wall & it’s interesting

Want to find something unique? Go to a flea market. You can pick up interesting pieces for your home without spending a mint. Again, have something in mind along with a color that might add a little jazz to your room. You can mix something old with something new and create a fun look.

Something Old, Something New

Keeping the esthetics of the home can be a selling point

Focus A focal point can be anything from a gallery of pictures, to your fireplace. This is where you want the eye to travel when they enter a room. If you have a mishmash of everything scattered about, or worse, nothing to look at, the room can feel unfinished.

Focus on the Teal

Make it interesting

Christa has used the teal color in the print to coordinate with the teal in the curtains. The color follows through to the bedroom as well.

Buy what you love!

Bought at a flea market, it has become one of my favorites.

It doesn’t have to break the bank to have value.

Keep it to yourself if….

You might love them, but…..

If you have a collection, ask a friend if you should put it away before listing your house.

What are the biggest irritations in decor? What drives you crazy?

I’ll start. Farmhouse signs telling you where to eat, sit, laugh, love, pray, etc. I’m going to get pushback because it’s very popular along with gray vinyl plank flooring, but I’m ready to move on.

I’m over it…

Christa Hall is a busy American National Agent in Springfield. She is also an avid gardener with a flair for decorating. I listed and sold Christa and James home last year, and received multiple offers over asking price. The home and yard were impeccable and all of the credit goes to Christa and James.

Christa Hall - American National Insurance Agent and Fabulous Decorator!

If you need insurance, call Christa at

Christa Hall Insurance Agency

(417) 233-2273

1655 S Enterprise Ave a2, Springfield, MO 65804

If you are thinking of selling your home and would like some tips for getting the best price, I would be happy to help. If you are starting the process of buying a home and would like to know what are first steps, I can help with that too.

Deborah Rowell - Broker/ Sales

House Theory Realty

Cell - 417-844-3122

Email - deborah@417theory.com

"My Why" Wednesday - Rebecca (Caity)

(My Why) Wednesday

WHO: Rebecca

WHAT: Starting over in a small town

WHERE: Marionville

WHEN: 2023

WHY…..

I must admit, this story is about my daughter. Not by birth, mind you but by marriage and I love her as my own. If I sound a little biased, I probably am but I’m not biased about her talent or her skills as a mother. She is a gem….

So, what happens when everything you thought you knew about life, marriage and the future changes in an instant? You fall down, you cry and maybe you scream, but there will come a time when you dream of your own back porch, drinking coffee and eating marmalade toast on a Sunday morning. That was my dream when I ended up going through a divorce of my own and over the course of several months I would repeat this mantra to Rebecca whenever things got really stressful. Marmalade toast, marmalade toast…..

A few facts.

In 2021, a total of 689,308 divorces occurred across the 45 U.S. states that report this statistics. That means that just about half of all marriages end in divorce. It also means that both people have to make decisions about division of property, bank accounts, debt, child support and more, all while navigating the possible rancor and emotional turmoil of divorce. It can be extremely stressful, especially if you are taken by surprise.

Can you buy a home while in the midst of a divorce? Yes you can, but you will need professional help from a team of people that understand the underlying laws of the state you reside in. Missouri is an “equitable distribution” state. The judge will only divide marital property in an equitable, but not necessarily equal, way. One spouse could get a bigger share of the marital assets than the other as long as the distribution is reasonable and fair if the couple cannot reach an agreement between themselves.

What happens if you already own a home together? What if one partner has more debt than the other? What about incurred debt that hasn’t been disclosed to the other partner? All of these things are common when getting a divorce.

When you marry in the state of MIssouri, debt and assets are considered to be owed and owned by both partners. This can make it difficult when trying to move forward and especially when trying to buy a home before the divorce is final.

Steps to take when purchasing a home while separated.

1. Talk to an attorney.

Purchasing a home while married but separated is complicated. Having a knowledgeable divorce attorney on your side can keep your new house from being a contested property.

2. Find an experienced real estate agent.

Finding an experienced agent is invaluable. Look for one who understands your situation and the house you’re looking for. They are going to guide you through the process and they will need to work closely with your lender, the other agent, possibly your soon to be ex-spouse, inspectors and the title company.

3. Find an experienced lender.

I can’t express enough how important it is to find an experienced lender. They will be navigating through all of your finances, trying to find a clear path for your home loan and trust me, it can be really messy, so find someone that truly cares about getting you from Point A to Point B, because they are going to work hard to get you to closing.

Now back to the story….

When I got the call from Rebecca, she was heartbroken. Beyond the emotional turmoil she felt at a life that was changing and out of her control, was her love and concern for her children. They had started school in the small community of Marionville and had just made friends, after moving from Springfield about a year earlier. She didn’t want to move them again and so she needed to find something affordable in Marionville. Rebecca, her father and I all scoured the listings looking for the perfect home. It popped up about two weeks later. It was an adorable 1930’s bungalow that had been remodeled, had a wonderful back porch, and a large fenced yard. It was perfect!

1930’s Bungalow

So Cute!

The house was close enough for her youngest daughter to walk to school, but the bus passed right by the house, so both kids could ride the bus with friends. I sent the listing to Rebecca and asked her thoughts. She loved it! We made an appointment to look at it within the hour. I also had her contact Adam Godby at Paddio to see if we could get a pre-approval letter. Adam is the best person I know to handle a difficult situation. He got our pre-approval letter and we sent the offer over with a short note to the agent explaining how much it would mean to keep the kids in their current school and that we loved the home. I was thrilled when we got the call from the agent letting us know that they had accepted our offer. I called Rebecca to tell her we were one step closer to marmalade toast and coffee on the back porch.

Almost home…

We had our inspection and had a few things we asked for from the seller. The seller looked at our Inspection Report and fixed not only the things we asked for but all of the things on the list. We had nothing but kindness from the listing agent to the seller and beyond.

Behind the scene, our lender was working hard to get Rebecca through the finance process. There was division of debt, marital waivers, refinancing of their property and more. It was a complicated loan but Adam got us to close in record time.

The day the sellers handed Rebecca the keys to her new home was a day I’ll never forget. It had been quite a journey and yes, there was marmalade jam and coffee at the end of the road.

It’s been a year now and things are looking pretty bright. It’s hard starting over. I know that all too well, but I’ve found that life somehow knows what’s best for us, even when we can’t see it at the moment. It makes me happy to see pictures of the girls thriving in their new home and it especially makes me happy to see Rebecca’s smiling face.

Rebecca is an award winning graphic designer, artist and photographer for the Springfield Business Journal. She has written a children’s book for her daughter, designed the logo and T-shirt design for Earth Day along with other wonderful projects she has been involved in. Here are a few examples of her work.

Earth Day T-Shirt

Awards from the 2023 Missouri Press Foundation

If you need help with a design for your business, or if you are looking for a terrific photographer, call Rebecca.

If you are looking for a real estate agent with years of experience and a genuine love for doing things right, call me. I’m always happy to help!

Deborah Rowell, House Theory Realty, 417-844-3122 - deborah@417theory.com

Deborah Rowell - Broker/Sales

House Theory Realty

417-844-3122 email deborah@417theory.com

"My Why" Wednesday - Jeff & Kyaw

(My Why) Wednesday

WHO: Jeff & Kyaw (pronounced “jaw”)

WHAT: Buying a 1948 Brentwood Blvd original home

WHERE: Springfield

WHEN: 2015

WHY…..

Jeff is a wild haired creative powerhouse with a resume that will make your head spin. He can toss out jokes and punchlines, quips and monologues as if throwing plates in the air. Kyaw, the calmer of the two, is adept at catching them and keeping them spinning with a calm and effortless ease. They are a perfect match.

I met Jeff and his husband, Kyaw at 1Million Cups, a non-profit organization that features new or innovative businesses that are disrupting the status quo, and for which I was an organizer at the time. They were doing a dryrun for their upcoming presentation of SATO48, the 48 hour film challenge and a passion project for both of them.

After rehearsal, we began to talk. I found out they lived just a few blocks from me, and as a newly licensed real estate agent, I blurted out that I had previewed a home that had just come on the market near them on Brentwood Blvd. I was swooning over the perfectly preserved kitchen, the “Mad Men” like living room with the gorgeous fireplace and the basement with the original bar, lights and seating. Jeff wondered if it was Martha’s house, a home that sat directly behind his current house and I told him I believed it was. Well, that was it! We decided there was no time like the present to see this Brentwood Blvd gem, so off we went to tour Martha’s home.

Another realtor was standing in the yard waiting for his clients when we pulled up. Jeff, Kyaw and I waltzed past him and closed the door behind us. We toured the home, exclaiming over all the original features, talking about what would need to be done (wallpaper removed), what would stay (walk-in bathtub) and what we loved (downstairs rec room and bar). As we walked back up the stairs, Jeff looked around and said “I think we want to buy this house.” He paused for a moment and looked at Kyaw. “We want to buy it, right?” Kyaw nodded in agreement. “What do we need to do?” he asked, as he turned to look at me.

Stunned, at this unexpected turn of events, I stammered “Well, you will need to fill out a contract.”

“Okay?” Jeff said and looked at me questionably as if I should know what came next.

I tried to sound like I’d done this numerous times. “Let’s meet at my office and get the paperwork filled out. You can follow me.” I jumped in my car and began dialing my broker, Jack Rhoads number. No answer. I called his house. No answer. It was nearly 7:00 PM when we walked into the office and thank the Lord, there was Jack behind his desk working away. He peered up at the three of us as we shuffled into his office. I introduced Jeff and Kyaw and quickly explained that we had toured Martha’s house and now they were ready to make an offer. What I hadn’t told Jeff and Kyaw was, this was my very first transaction and I felt this might be a very deep pool, I was about to dive into.

Jack, ever the professional and without blinking an eye, invited them to sit down as he began to ask the pertinent questions. Financing? How would they take title? Closing date? Purchase price? Proof of funds? I took notes so that I could fill out the sales contract correctly.

This was not going to be a simple deal, and it was going to require several signatures, access to a remote fax for one of the signers, and a couple of other little bumps. After getting all the needed information, we were able to navigate the paperwork and get an offer sent to the listing agent. The home had several full price offers so on Monday morning the listing agent called me, along with the rest of the agents at 8:00 AM and told us that if we wanted to amend our offer, they would be making a decision at 11:00 AM. I asked Jack what I should do.

He just looked at me, tapped his watch and said “Whatever it is, you need to do it in the next 30 minutes because we have an office meeting at 8:30 sharp.”

I ran to my office and tried to call Jeff but he didn’t answer the phone. I jumped in my car and headed for their house. I ran up the sidewalk and banged on the front door. Jeff appeared, his hair a wild array of unruly curls and a robe mostly tied. I explained that they had several full price offers and if he and Kyaw really wanted the house we would need to offer more.

“Whatever it takes,” he said.

I threw a number out and Jeff agreed. I ran back to my car, jumped in and sped back to the office. I typed up the new price, sent it over to the listing agent, gave her a quick call to let her know I’d sent it and joined our Monday morning meeting. At 11:00 AM the agent called to let me know that we had gotten the contract. I screamed in her ear, apoligized and screamed again. I called Jeff and Kyaw to let them know we had the house. I also told them that my secret to making sure a home closes is to drive up to the house, park in the driveway and imagine that it’s your house. It works every time. (Note) Don’t do this if the sellers still live there, because then it just seems creepy. Jeff and Kyaw also told me not to forgot to elaborate on all the incense burning and voodoo ritual dances they did to keep other buyers away.

Because the house was being sold “as-is”, many of the problems that would come up with an inspection were avoided. Jack made sure that I kept track of my “days” as far as the contract was concerned and when we finally met at the title company for closing, Jack sat next to me as the documents were signed. My first closing! As a thank you, I took a dozen carrot cake cupcakes to the listing agents office for being so kind, professional and patient with me.

Photo courtesy of Brenna Stark

Today Jeff and Kyaw have gently remodeled this house in the tradition it was built. They bumped out the back wall and added large floor to ceiling windows that span the length of the room for a gorgeous view of the back yard. They left the original kitchen intact, but added on with a state of the art gas range, professional-grade counter-depth refrigerator and freezer unit, and a kitchen island that will make you weep with joy. Kyaw is a fabulous chef and has cooked professionally. You will find them entertaining friends, neighbors and family nearly every Friday night.

Photo courtesy of Brenna Stark

Photo courtesy of Brenna Stark

Photo courtesy of Brenna Stark

Photo courtesy of Brenna Stark

Photo courtesy of Brenna Stark

A little about the SATO48 Film challenge. This has been a passion project for both Jeff and Kyaw for the past 19 years. Jeff jokes around a lot, but both he and Kyaw are serious about supporting filmmakers and the arts, here in Springfield and beyond.

“SATO48's Film Challenge is an exhilarating platform that propels filmmakers of all levels to create impactful short films in only 48 hours with no pre-knowledge of what their films must be about until it is revealed to them in the form of an Inspiration Package. The Challenge offers career development opportunities and showcases their talents to a live, as well as global audience.”

Film Challenge & FiveFest: Propel and showcase global filmmaking talent through short film creation and festivals.

The TV Show: Bring short films to a national audience, enhancing exposure and recognition.

Prime for Development: Offer a pathway for short films to evolve into feature-length projects and attract investment.

Matinees at the Gillioz: Integrate modern short films with classic cinema to enrich the film-going experience.

Recognition & Awards Ceremony: Our initiatives culminate in ceremonies and events that celebrate and acknowledge the talent and efforts of filmmakers. By hosting festivals, challenges, readings, screenings, and broadcasts, we build a legacy in the world of cinema, one short film at a time.

Photo courtesy of Matt Loveland Photography

Photo courtesy of Matt Loveland Photography

Photo courtesy of Matt Loveland Photography

The kick-off this year is

April 26

6pm - Central Time USA

Graceway Baptist Church

5010 South Farm Rd 135, Springfield, MO 65810

&

On-line - SATO48.com

May 30 - June 2

World Premiere Screenings

Moxie Cinema

305 S Campbell Ave, Springfield, MO 65806

June 1

Awards & Recognitions Ceremony

Gillioz Theater

325 Park Central E, Springfield, MO 65806

Over the years, I’ve been thrilled to participate in the SATO48 Film challenge as a presenter and as a judge. It is a terrific project that I support.

On the red carpet

It was chance that brought us together, but I consider myself lucky to call them friends.

If you want to test your limits, sign up for the the SATO48 Film Challenge. You will not be sorry!

If you want someone that will help you get into the house of your dreams, call me.

Deborah Rowell, House Theory Realty - 417-844-3122 or email me at deborah@417theory.com

"My Why" Wednesday - Adam

(My Why) Wednesday

WHO: Adam

WHAT: Selling his fathers home

WHERE: Springfield

WHEN: January 2022

WHY…..

“When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, "Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.”

-Fred Rogers

Adam Godby is one of the helpers.

In 2013 Adam was a food rep for Reinhart Foods and I, along with my daughter, owned a restaurant. We were using a different company for our food supplies, but Adam would stop by the shop, buy a cup of coffee and visit with us weekly. He was never pushy, but he was always friendly and helpful. On one of these visits I was panicking over something that had nothing to do with food. My husband at the time had a serious health condition that was getting worse. A friend of mine had suggested a doctor in New York but I was overwhelmed and wasn’t sure how to get the phone number. Adam was sitting in the back of the restaurant, drinking a cup of coffee while I worked the front counter. Before leaving, Adam walked up and handed me the phone number for the doctor in New York. His kindness and concern left an impact on me and needless to say, we switched our account to Adam. After we sold the restaurant, I got my real estate license. My broker told me to look through my contacts and send a note to everyone letting them know I was in the real estate business. One of those contacts was Adam. He called me immediately and told me that he and his wife were looking at buying a home, but that is a story for another day. The story I want to tell you today is the story of selling Adam's father’s house.

Adam & Jessica

Every day is an adventure

When Adam called me about selling his father’s house and asked if I could take a look at it, I said “Sure, I’d love to!”. His dad had bought the house a few years earlier, but when he was diagnosed with cancer, he and Adam made the decision that he should move in with Adam and his family. I stopped by the house and Adam introduced me to his dad. As we walked through, looking at the condition of the home we talked about the things that could add value to the home without a lot of cost. The problem that his dad had, was that the condition of the home had deteriorated because of his health and his inability to keep up with the maintenance of the home, plus he had paid a top price for the home in that neighborhood. We had to figure out how to add value so that we could pay off the mortgage and pay the fee to sell the home. There were several items that would help with the value. Adam could upgrade the bathroom, paint the walls and make a few other changes that would help boost the selling price. The home sat on a nice size lot and had a two car garage with additional space for a shop. We figured a timeline for repairs because Adam was working fulltime, so the remodel would have to be on the weekends and after work.

Remodeled Bathroom

A few months later, Adam called me to do another walk-thru. I met Adam and his dad at the house. While his father waited in the car, Adam and I walked through the house. As we walked, I asked Adam how his dad was doing. “Not good,” he said with a worried look. I was worried too. I asked Adam if he was on the deed with his father. “No,” he said, “It’s just my dad.”

“Did he have a Power Of Attorney in case something happened and his dad couldn’t make decisions?” I asked quickly.

“No, nothing like that.”

“I think you should call an attorney right away,” I suggested. “If you don’’t know someone, I can recommend a couple of people that I’ve worked with before.” His dad sat patiently in the car waiting for us. I brought the Listing Contract to his dad and went through it with him, letting him know how the contract worked, and gave him the details of the listing. He signed it and handed it back to me. I looked at Adam and I could see the worry in his eyes. Adam texted me later and told me that he had called both attorneys and was waiting for a call back.

The next morning Adam texted me. His father had had some sort of medical emergency and had been taken to the hospital. He was hallucinating and incoherant. Adam told me that the secretary for the attorney had called him and he had explained the situation to her. He worked with the attorney to figure out the best scenario but his father would need to be cognizant in order to sign any document. The hospital released his father and Adam took him home. While sitting with his father a few days later, he suddenly became lucid. Adam quickly called the attorney’s office and the notary said she was on her way. She brought the paperwork for Power of Attorney and a Beneficiary Deed. She asked his father a number of questions to make sure he knew what he was signing and that he agreed to the documents. He told her he understood and agreed and then signed the documents. A few days later Adams' dad passed away.

Putting it on the market

It was a difficult time for Adam, but because we had not put the house on the market yet, we were able to list the house under Adam’s name. We filled out a new Listing Agreement, got the Disclosures done, pictures taken and the sign in the yard. The house went under contract the first day and luckily it was enough to pay off the mortgage, pay the fees and give the family a little bit of money to help offset the cost of the funeral.

Adam is one of the helpers.

Fast forward to today. Adam and I moved on a similar path. I sold the restaurant and started a career in real estate. Adam moved from being our food supplier to mortgage lending with Paddio where he is a successful and busy lender that works in 50 states. He is still helping me solve difficult problems with buyers that need help with credit issues, divorce that creates financial hardship, and making the impossible possible. I thank my lucky stars that I get to call him my friend.

Top Producer 2023 for Paddio

Note* Please think about contacting an attorney about making sure you have protections in place, in case something happens to you or your spouse. It only takes a moment for everything to change in your world. Precautions are easy, death and disability are not.

Missouri Beneficiary Deed

A beneficiary deed (also called a transfer-on-death or TOD deed) is like a regular deed you might use to transfer real estate located in Missouri, but with a crucial difference: It doesn't take effect until your death.

Note*. Power of Attorney is valid only while the person is living. It is revoked once the principal passes away.

Adam Godby - Mortgage Lender for Paddio & Miracle Worker

1-800-906-8960 ex. 5431

417‑444‑5400 ext 5431

Adam.Godby@paddio.com

Paddio.com

1‑417‑444‑5684 (fax)

1-417-924-5160 (cell)

Loan Officer Team Lead NMLS 2286643, Paddio Home Loans NMLS 1907

If you need a miracle worker or just want to work with an honest, hardworking and experienced lender to start the pre-qualification process, call Adam!

If you want a person that understands the in and outs of life and cares deeply about your home buying experience, call me at 417-844-3122 or email me at deborah@417theory.com

"My Why" Wednesday - Christa & James (Jamie)

(My Why) Wednesday

WHO: Christa and James

WHAT: Looking for a home, 5 to 20 acres of land with a shop or barn

WHERE: Within 30 minutes of Springfield

WHEN: Started in April 2023 and closed in July 2023

WHY…..

I met Christa years ago at a networking event and I liked her immediately. She had a great sense of humor and a terrific laugh but we didn’t really connect until a few years later while canoeing with a group of friends. She and her husband James are a perfect match. Both are hilarious, both hate talking about themselves and they both love gardening, but their work lives are very different. Christa is a busy, successful American National insurance agent for the past seven years, and James is a nationally renowned sculptor. He might even be a world renowned sculptor but he will never tell you that. I had to hear it from friends. The whale in the Smithsonium in Washington DC is part of his work. Yes, that whale!

Last year Christa called me about finding a home for them along with their two dogs, Harriet and Jerry. They were pretty specific but flexible in what they were looking for. They wanted to find a home where they could entertain friends, spend time in nature and have a building for James to work out of for his business. Some of Jamie’s pieces are very large so the building needed to be able to accommodate them. Christa needed to be able to commute to her insurance office within 30 minutes and Harriet and Jerry needed a place to run amok.

Jerry & Harriet

Steadfast and poised

They called me when a home came on the market with 20 acres, a barn/shop and the acreage could be split. I called and made an appointment with the listing agent and we set out to see the property. It was a beautiful home and the property worked well for their needs but between our viewing and my office, the property went under contract with a buyer that wanted all of the land instead of just part of it. It was a big disappointment because once you find the “perfect” home it’s hard to find anything that competes with it. Over the next month we checked out numerous places but nothing quite fit. Christa called to let me know that she and James would be on vacation to Mexico for a week and she hoped their “dream home” would not come on the market while they were gone…..

Before the phone call

Count on finding your dream house when you are not there to look at it. this is what we call karma

One day after they left on vacation a property came on the market and it was perfect. I sent the listing to them. We all cried together on the phone and then we made a plan. I set off to see the house and thought I would try to video the home and grounds. By the time I finished the nearly 30 minute (too large a file to ever upload on any platform available to me) video that included the words “it’s just so pretty!” five-hundred times, I called them. “I think this home is perfect but it’s so unique that I don’t think I’m comfortable telling you to put an offer on the home without seeing it in person.” They would not be home for another week so every morning I would check the listing to see if it was pending. It stayed active until the day before Christa and James came home and then the house showed active but with a contingency. We still had a chance! As soon as Christa and James got home we made an appointment to see the house. They loved it as much as I did. I called the listing agent and he encouraged us to put in a back-up offer in case the current deal fell through. We quickly wrote up the back-up offer and sent it over to the listing agent. Now the waiting began. One week, two weeks, three weeks, and then I got the phone call. “Could we close by a particular date?” Yes, we could. “Could I write that change up and get it to him?” Yes, I could. I called James and Christa and with a barely concealed scream, told them they were getting the house! Christa will tell you that I did scream and I was incoherent but they eventually figured out what I was saying. I sent the paperwork over to them, they signed and I sent it immediately over to the listing agent. We were under contract on their dream home! This deal was one of the smoothest transactions I had ever done, thanks to a great listing agent and a hardworking lender. Christa and James were able to close within about 3 weeks.

Backyard Shenanigans

When your friends decide to bring guitars

Fast Forward one year. Last week we met them at Fellows Lake along with a group of friends and did a nice long hike, then we followed them back to their new home to enjoy the fire pit, a little guitar playing, laughter and some good food. The house is even more beautiful now that Christa has put her decorating touch on everything and James is building an even bigger shop for his business. This is everything they were looking for and I’m so happy to have been a part of it.

Just a sample of the beautiful garden that Christa & James designed.

A little something James built for the back yard.

The beautiful backyard of Christa and James prior home.

And this is what I had to find out about from friends…. James Hall’s work.

James Hall

Missouri FeaturedArtist James Hall makes sculpture not only in bronze but in urethane, especially for museums worldwide. jhcreative.org Here are just a few! A pair of Edmontosauruses face off against a T-Rex at the Cairo Ministry of Education in Egypt. A ginormous rattlesnake skeleton hovers in the Lakeside Nature Center of KC. And a steam engine (being petted by the sculptor) hurtles into the Railroad Historical Museum-Grant Beach Park, Springfield, MO. Pictures and article courtesy of the Missouri Arts Council

The Right Whale

Hangs in the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History in Washington DC

You can see James Hall’s work at the Smithsonian, colleges, museums and parks and to see more of his work check out jhcreative.org. | JH Creative, LLC

Christa Hall Insurance Agency

417-233-2273

1655 S Enterprise Ave Suite A2, Springfield MO 65804

She is experienced, honest and a great agent, plus you will get to hear her laugh!

If you want to find your dream home and listen to me scream in your ear that “you’ve got the house!” Call me at 417-844-3122 or email me at Deborah@417theory.com

Deborah Rowell - House Theory Realty

1807 E Edgewood St, STE C, Springfield, MO 65804

417-890-1455 Office

My Favorite Day Of The Year

This is where I want to be. Sitting on my porch looking out at the possibilities. The trees are still bare and the lawn has patches of brown, but the sun is out and it’s a balmy 73 degrees. This is the day that my husband designates as “gardening” day. The seeds are pulled out of a drawer as I silently protest that it’s “too soon” to plant. There will be another frost, but he pushes forward anyway. Our hands are side by side as we pull weeds from the planter and toss them recklessly over our shoulder. I tell him I have plans at 3:00 and I don’t want to take a 3rd shower, but he lets me know that I am talking like a “city” girl and to “get to it”. I don’t really mind. The birds are out and the breeze moves the chimes in the familiar Spring song. We talk about the vegetables that we are going to plant. The staples, I like to call them. We will plant tomatoes, potatoes, green beans and peas. We should have corn and spinach along with a few squash plants. My dad always planted Swisschard. I feel this is an old vegetable, under-rated but delicious. Yes, this is my favorite day of the year.

When I was 10 years old, that first warm day was spent at the old abandoned school house in the canyon I grew up in. My friend and I pulled out an ancient mattress from one of the rooms and spent the afternoon practicing gymnastics in the front yard.

During my teenage years, that first day was spent driving to Roosevelt with my friend, her sisters and a couple of other girls for a church dance. We were all dressed up with the windows down, and I can remember flinging my hand outside the window just to feel the wind push back against my fingers. I was completely free.

At eighteen I had my first apartment, a baby and responsibilities, but that first warm day came, and I opened all the windows, lay flat on my back with my arms flung wide across my floral comforter, and thought of nothing but the warmth of the sun.

All these years later I’m still in love with that first warm day. The birds are in fine form, calling to each other with a whistle. I see the white tip of a tail through the edge of the woods as the deer make their way along the trail to the back side of the property. Every creature seems to know that Spring is around the corner.

When I was a kid, my father made a rule that we were not allowed to go swimming in the river until the first of June. Nevertheless, we would sneak down a few weeks shy of the deadline and dip our toes into the still freezing water. It would take quite some time before you finally sat down in the shallow part of the river, freezing your arms and legs, but still you sat because it was almost summer and this was the Spring ritual.

I am still that kid, but now I sit on my porch after washing the dirt from underneath my fingernails and sit with a glass of wine. This is my favorite day of the year.

"My Why" Wednesday - Meredith

(My Why) Wednesday

WHO: Meredith

WHAT: Looking for a home with 3 to 10 acres for her farming business with a top budget of $125,000 using an FHA Loan

WHERE: Greene, Barry, Lawrence or Dade Counties

WHEN: Started in 2020 and closed in 2022

WHY…..

Let me tell you a little bit about Meredith. She is a small dark haired woman with large blue/green eyes and a ready smile. She is ambitious and fearless when it comes to trying new things and she can outwork most men I know and she does on a daily basis. This all makes sense when you learn that she entered the military in 2007 and deployed to Iraq working as a technician on helicopters for the Army National Guard for the next two years. She also works with and trains German Sheperds for personal security and odor detection which includes finding cadavers and sniffing out drugs. On top of all this, she runs a farm.

I met Meredith while having my oil changed at a local dealership. While waiting, she and I started visiting. It didn’t take long to find out that she lived close to me and every time I drove Hwy 266, I passed by her folks farm. I recoginized the farm because it was the place with the goats. I told her that I sold real estate and she explained that her folks were thinking of selling their 40 acre farm and didn’t have an agent. This is how Meredith and I became friends. When I listed her parents' farm, she decided it was time to find a place of her own.

Over the course of several months she and I looked at several properties with a little acreage. One of the homes had insulation hanging out of the giant hole in the ceiling along with other signs of massive water damage. Another should have had “caution tape” wrapped around the home because of the treacherous porch and rotted flooring. After a year of searching, Meredith called me about a property in Dade county that had come on the market. It was a nearly 100 year old farmhouse with almost 4 acres. I will admit that when I first entered the house, I thought we should leave immediately. The house needed a LOT of work. It had been occupied by heavy smokers and the amount of nicotine that stained the ceiling and walls was a sight I hadn’t seen before. There was so much smoke and nicotine that the red velveteen curtains were crispy when I touched them. As I started to walk out the door, I looked back and Meredith had her feet planted firmly on the floor. “I think I can make this work.” she said. At that statement, I started to walk through the house again. It had a decent sized kitchen and all the rooms were fairly large. With a good cleaning and a lot of Kilz, among other things, the house had possibilities. It had a big garage/barn, a greenhouse (of sorts) and the amount of acreage that she needed for her animals. We decided to make an offer and we were thrilled when it was accepted. With the help of a great lender, and a lot of hard work on Meredith’s part, we closed in December.

Meredith’s Farm

Meredith has worked miracles on this farm and she has made it her own. She was willing to learn how to do plumbing, carpentry work, painting and floor refinishing, along with roofing and anything else that has been required. She has beautiful bright paint on the walls, new windows and gutters that she installed herself, and a place that she can call home.

Artisan Goat Soap

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Meredith’s goal is to provide a sustainable living from her farm which includes goats for breeding along with goat soap (fabulous!), goat milk and beauty products. Her chickens provide eggs and are a food source and she is raising organic, healthy food as well.

Meredith made her own success story and I couldn’t be happier for her.

You can contact Meredith for any of her farm products by emailing merholl1982@gmail.com.

If you are thinking of selling or buying your next home you can contact me at deborah@417theory.com or call me at 417-844-3122

When We Were Friends

My grandson perused through the photos on my phone, bored by the rainy weather that kept him from fishing in our pond.

“Oh, look at this one.” I said as I hit the little arrow on a video that popped up. It showed two small boys, arms out wide in a pretend flight as they hurtled down a grassy slope, waving and laughing at me.

“That’s when we were friends” Colin said with a tinge of sadness. I turned my head and looked at him as he faced away from me and looked out the window. As a parent, I know that kids argue and fight. As a grandparent, it hurts my heart. Not because they don’t love each other, but because time is short and everything feels like it’s moving way too quickly to be angry for long. The young haven’t learned what many of us have, when you lose someone there is no getting them back. There is nothing so final as death and the thing is, we are all going to die. That is a fact.

In this era of social media, we have lost our connection to each other. There is no nuance, there is only words, thrust out into the world with no context, no color, no voice. We now communicate with emoji’s to give our conversation a feel. I’m appalled. We don’t really see each other any more. We don’t talk and we don’t listen. When did this happen? We make large, sweeping generalizations about groups of people so that we can “understand” them better but we don’t ask the questions, or sit and discuss anything. When did we become so lazy with our lives and with each other?

When I was eleven, I lost my younger brother. He was two years younger than me. We fought at home but heaven help anyone that picked on him at school. I was his protector, punching one poor kid right in the stomach when he picked on Sheldon. He and I were friends. His loss was profound for me and for my family. Our community and church came together to help us. We had meals brought to our home for over a month from kind neighbors and friends because that’s what a community does.

We have become a lonely people with all of our devices attached to our hands and white plugs stuck in our ears. We don’t want to socialize with the people in front of us because it’s much more intriguing to engage with people we can’t see. We can fight without consequences with strangers, or better yet, people that aren’t even real. We can engage with people that see the world exactly as we see it, strangers all lumped into a group. We don’t have to re-think our assumptions because there are ten-thousand other people telling us we are right. Isn’t it always better to be right than happy?

Life is short and no matter how you go about it there is a timeline. In the beginning there is life, a middle and an end. That’s it. We are all somewhere on the path while we pretend that it will never end. When you become older, you start to realize that no matter what you do, you will end up in the same place as everyone before you. Your life will end. How you live this life is the only choice you have. Happy or sad?

I’m making an effort to meet with friends on a weekly basis for lunch. I’m trying to get more involved in my community. I want to listen more and talk less. Yes, I really mean it. When I receive a gift, I’m using it, reading it or wearing it. I’m picking up my pencil and putting my devices away. I’ve given up on trying to change peoples minds about anything. I want to be a friend more than I want to be right.

As my grandson turned back to look at me, I said “You know your brother loves you right? He will always love you. This is just part of growing up.” He nodded, but looked unconvinced. “Trust me, I’m old.” He laughed.

“How many pictures do you have of us?” He asked as we continued on while I pushed play on the next video.

“Lots and lots of pictures of you and your brother.” I said, as I wrapped my arm around his shoulder.

Nicotine Stains and Dickens

For over 25 years my Aunt and I conversed by email.  It might be months between letters but then there would be a flurry of activity.  We called each other by various names depending on the circumstances.  For the latter part of our conversations, I called her “My Dear Miss Tulip” because she reminded me of Spring.  Tulip taught me to read Dickens and I loved her for it.  The very first book a tried to read of his was the last book he wrote, The Mystery of Edwin Drood and it made me want to throw it into a fire.  I could not understand Dickens writing at all.  Finally a person smarter than me told me to start at the beginning of Dickens so that I could understand his writing.  Wise words.  I started reading The Pickwick Papers and I was hooked.

My Dear Miss Tulip died a year and a half ago and I’ve missed her witty, kind and funny words, flung through the universe where they would land in my mail.  We wrote nearly every day for the last year of her life.  While I was perusing through old emails I found the following note written way back in 2006.  The Jack in this story is Jack Rhoads, the man that would end up as my broker when I started selling real estate in 2015.

January, 2006

Dear Miss No More Borders,

I hope by the time you get this note that your walls are painted, and that you are happy with the result.  What a job, but I know you are more than capable.

I looked at a house today that our Realtor friend has on the market.  It is about 80 years old and needs a lot of work.  They want $29,000 for it.  Jack thinks it can be sold for around $65,000 if fixed up.  It would take around $10,000 to $15,000 for repairs.  I don't know if it is worth the huge amount of work that it would take.  The lady that owns it had lived there for 65 years.  She smoked heavily so the house reeks of stale smoke.  The ceilings are a lovely tobacco brown and I can tell you with all honesty, that I did not walk on the floor in the bathroom for fear of falling through the floor.  I peeked inside and noticed a mouse floating in the toilet along with several cigarette butts.  A book was sitting on the counter by the toilet.  I guess the mouse was reading a book and smoking a cigarette when he accidentally fell into the toilet.  Maybe he was reading Dickens last book too!  His cousin was found near the stove in the kitchen.  A victim of suicide…,so sad, but I'm sure he couldn't bear the smell either.  I was very careful not to touch anything for fear I'd end up like the two mice.

I hope you are having a good day.  We are watching Little House on the Prairie.

Love you mucho,

Miss Mouse Trap

Gut Jobs and other things that make me crazy

It was a total gut job and it could have been avoided….

The past 2 years have been tough as far as out of pocket expenses go. I had two big ticket items, my rental house and my mouth. Both of those items are about the same age and both of them had little or no maintenance over the past twenty years.

For some reason, I was under the impression that my teeth would be in my mouth until I died, much like the battery that I thought had a “Lifetime Guarantee” until the mechanic corrected me by saying “Not your lifetime lady!”. I thought brushing morning and night would be enough. Hadn’t the dentist in Greenfield told me that I had “long” roots and that should insure that my teeth wouldn’t fall out? Never mind that it was 35 years ago he had made this prediction, and that both my parents had lost their teeth. When I heard those words I was sold! “No worries about my teeth.” I thought. “My parents live in a place with bad water. I’m sure that’s the reason they have dentures.”

Twenty years ago, I bought a rental property. The house was built in 1956 or something like that. It was in pretty bad shape at the time I bought it but it was a solid house, so with a little elbow grease and not a lot of money, I did a few renovations and called it good for the next twenty years…. Now, I’m not saying that I didn’t fix things that were broken. I did put a new roof on it and I did replace the garage doors, but still, I didn’t really do anything other than that. It was fine, right?

Back to the teeth. I started noticing that I looked like a rabbit in pictures. My front teeth didn’t seem to look the same as they did a few years ago, then I noticed that it looked like the cap was falling off a back tooth so I went to my dentist and he gave me some disturbing news. “No, the cap is not loose, but your tooth is. You will need to have it pulled.” He gave me the name of a person that could pull it and I made an appointment. When I arrived, she gave me some bad news. She thought I had 3 teeth that would need to be removed. I panicked and left without having her pull the tooth. After two other consultations with different experts, I found that I needed 10 teeth pulled along with an array of other things in order to keep the now diminishing set of teeth I still had left in my mouth. I cried and yelled a few choice words before accepting that it had to be done. In January of 2021 I started on a journey. It would consist of 10 pulled teeth, gum surgery, braces, bone transplants, a bridge, two implants and a root canal. It was a LOT of out of pocket money and all because I pretended that everything would be okay, until it wasn’t.

Now to the rental. I got a loan for nearly $100,000 with the thought that it would not cost nearly that much to renovate the house, but I was wrong. Everything in the house needed to be updated or repaired. I needed new HVAC, plumbing, wiring, windows, floors and chimney. I renovated a kitchen that would be considered functional in 1956 but didn’t accommodate things like a dishwasher or space to store all our kitchen gadgets that are necessary in 2023. I renovated the bathroom for the same reason and added an additional half bath because having only one bathroom lowers the value of the home considerably. I also added a laundry room. In 1956 many people did not have a washer and dryer in the house. If anything, they had a washer in the garage and used a clothesline to dry everything. If you are young you might have to Google it.

I found that fixing a house is like fixing your teeth. They both include “tear-down, foundation repair and re-building”. They also use similar tools like drills and wrenches. I know, right? Nothing like a small woman telling you that when you hear the click of the wrench, your crowns will be in tight. I learned to meditate while all of this was going on because there is nothing like having your gums cut away from your teeth and then sewn back up again. I saw instructions that included the sentence “Do not spit, pull on your lip or act aggressively.” I tried my best to follow the instructions.

What is the lesson? You must be willing to look at the truth of a situation. Making a decision to fix something when you have no choice is expensive! What happened in both cases is called DEFERRED MAINTENANCE on both my teeth and the house. Both were expensive and if I had acted sooner, I wouldn’t have paid so much and I probably would have kept my teeth and my house wouldn’t have needed all the repairs.

As a realtor, we know when we walk into a house if it has deferred maintenance issues. You can see it everywhere. Chipped paint, dry rot in the wood, dirty return air vents, cracks in the tile and loose caulking around the tub and sinks. If the furnace is 27 years old, it needs to be replaced and if your roof is starting to curl you should think about replacing that too. If you haven’t taken care of these things, a buyer will wonder what other things you haven’t done.

It is a new year. Take a moment to make a list of items around the house that need a few minor repairs. Change your filter, fix the caulking around the windows, sinks and tub and touch up chipped paint. It doesn’t take long to do and will help your pocket book in the long run. Trust me, no one wants to spend what I spent last year because I just didn’t want to deal with the truth. Oh yeah, and go see your dentist!

An Unexpected Gift

In November I flew West to spend Thanksgiving with my family. I haven’t been home as often as I like, but over the past few years I’ve realized that it’s important to spend time with the people I love. As we prepared the Thanksgiving feast, I looked around at all the familiar items I’d looked at for nearly 60 years. My mom’s recipe box, and her old copy of Better Homes & Garden’s recipe book were always in the kitchen.

After serving nearly 25 people, we all started cleaning up and doing the dishes. My mom, on the other hand, had all the grandkids running out to get her Christmas tree and all the decorations. I thought to myself, “Well, we’ve barely digested Thanksgiving and here is Christmas.” The next morning my mom was eager to start decorating but I felt time rushing past me and I wasn’t all that excited to get started, but I helped put up the Christmas village and we hung several Christmas wreaths around the house. It was starting to look a lot like Christmas. On the day we were getting ready to fly back home, my mom made an off hand comment but it hit me and I could feel tears starting to form. She said that she just wanted me to feel like I had been home for Christmas too. I realized that I hadn’t been home for Christmas for over 15 years and my mom was giving me a gift. It was a true gift from the heart.

As we celebrate this year, maybe we can each find a little bit of home and fine the true gift of Christmas.

Merry Christmas!