“Maddy sold her house for $235,000!”

Our neighbors across the street give us the low-down on Madison’s house. She put up a For Sale By Owner sign and flyers. Mike and I looked at the flyer and were shocked to see that she was asking $250K for it. Now, we’re even more shocked that she got $235. Three more houses have sold on our small block: another FSBO and two with Coldwell Banker.

Maybe to big wigs in California or New York, $235,000 doesn’t sound like a lot of money for a 1000 square-foot house, but in Sugarhouse, this is a definite jump in prices. Just last year, Rick sold his place next door for $150,000. Is Maddy’s house that much better than Rick’s or have prices gone up without me noticing?

Why do I care?

Mike and I are renting the house we live in. We love it and fantasize about buying it, but house prices in the area really have nothing to do with the amount of rent we pay. Why do I care? I don’t know. I guess the old real estate agent in me likes to keep tabs on the neighborhood.

The guy who bought the house from the motorcycle-riding hippie is going to use it as a rental. There is a team of two men taking shingles off the roof as I type this. The new landlord drives a silver Prius and parks it in front of the house for a few hours each week. The purple irises remained uncut until they died on the vine. I was tempted to go over there and cut a bunch for myself, but Mike wouldn’t let me trespass. I don’t think the new landlord would have cared. He has no renters and he’s not cutting them for himself.

All of this real estate activity makes the neighborhood feel like it’s changing. Are there new people in the house yet? No? When will they come. What about the people who paid so much money for Maddy’s house? I haven’t noticed yet. All I know is that our neighbors from across the street are coming over for dinner tomorrow. They are staying here until the end of the week, at least, so there is some semblance of stability in my life.