387 HONEYWOOD AVENUE - SOLD

Well then.

A striking and much-renovated east-end bungalow with two-bedrooms, a double garage, extensive landscaping, hardwood floors and a solid maple kitchen. It sold in a day, with multiple offers presented. So much for the open house!.

COMING THIS MONTH

I have lots of listings in the works. Tours are being shot as we speak. Here’s a taste of what’s on the way:

— A majestic limestone home on an acre just east of the city. Finished on three levels and altogether marvelous.

— A detached inner harbour bungalow with a walk-out basement and finishes as good as I’ve seen in the neighbourhood.

— A decidedly grand brick home at the heart of Sydenham Ward in Downtown Kingston.

I’ll leave it to you to decide which is which.

HOLIDAY SNAPSHOTS

I was in England with my daughter this month. We covered an awful lot of ground. It felt sometimes, particularly on those narrow Devon lanes, that we were competitors in a UK rally, with Willa doing all the navigation, or on some frantic, obscenity-laced leg of the Amazing Race. Some mornings we should really have been wearing helmets. I’ve driven stick down (and up!) a lot of stupid roads and swerved around unholy numbers of bemused sheep.

If you tried to get hold of me and didn’t manage it, the pictures above will give you an idea why. I regret nothing and will treasure every moment.

I am back in the office now, though, and if you get in touch we can catch up. I’ll show you some more pictures, tell you some stories. We can even do some real estate.

35 Manitou Crescent East

My dad’s house. It’s been a long time coming, and a process not without its complications, but it’s ready for you now. A big old Amherstview side split with the best garden I’ve seen in that part of the world.

I only lived here for a few months. We’d been in Canada less than a year, and the Mississauga job that got us through Immigration didn’t work out. Dad took something new near Kingston, and he and my mum bought 35 Manitou sometime between lunch and dinner on a Saturday afternoon. I spent long evenings that winter either alone or in Dale McKergow’s basement just around the corner, drinking warm Molson Export and listening to Talking Heads: “And you may ask yourself, ‘Well, how did I get here?’” Truth is, I think I’m still working on the answer to that question and, well, if you buy the place maybe I can finally move on.

RECENTLY SOLD

MUSINGS