Sitting with Ryan tonight, sans Laura, was uneventful from a milestone perspective. It was unfathomable from a father-son perspective. I softly stroked the back of his neck, and whispered how much we love him. His numbers are better, and I am being quite reserved when saying this. There was an actual double-take when I looked at his monitor. He is gaining lung capacity, and hammering mom's milk to the tune of 3 cc's every three hours! That's about triple what he was ingesting a mere 48 hours ago. When I arrived he was sound asleep. Other than grabbing my fingertips and arching his back when I rubbed his head, he was lying still and growing stronger. A scant few minutes of video was shot, and then it was a goodnight pat and out of the nurses' way.

Everything seems more vivid, more fragrant, more textured. Our lives have taken on a whole new meaning, and standing outside of our formerly drab existence makes us realize how truly petty and small we can get when the blessing of simple life recedes from our consciousness. To think that this is somehow all happenstance is to cynically dismiss the omnipotence that is endlessly at work. Jeannie Maddox, a guidance counselor from one of Laura's schools, brought a care package that was so magnificent in its content we are still reeling. I was considering converting the largesse to cash and paying off our home, but Laura put the keibash (sp?) on that. Much love and thanks to the lovely folks at George Marks Elementary. One problem with the outfits you sent... they're most assuredly NOT my size. Look at my picture, people. Body by Tastycake.

It is heart-wrenching to see the carnage in Madrid. Watching the millions pour into the streets, protesting the scourge of worldwide terrorism, brushes the still-raw nerves of 9-11. Spain has been a loyal and trusted ally in the war on terror, and we will be their avenging angel. Why? Because we are Americans. We are, as our leader has said, "the shining beacon of freedom to the world." God bless those who battle the savages wishing to destroy innocent lives. God bless the United States of America.

On a different note, and as a former (and hopefully "future") broadcaster, the incidents of FCC involvement and heavy fining of radio personalities for supposed "indecency" is troubling. I am a fan of Howard Stern's work ethic. He's an absolutely reprehensible human being, but his success is undeniable. To arbitrarily begin fining talk jocks when nothing has changed in the content of their broadcasts for years makes one wonder what the real impetus for this stepped-up involvement is. One of my heros, Ronald Wilson Reagan, said that the most dangerous sentence ever uttered was "I'm from the government, and I'm here to help." Stern is now railing against Bush, saying that his sudden opposition to the war (poorly reasoned though it is) is the reason for the additional scrutiny. What a load of crap! But his bonehead and mind-numbed audience will do his bidding, as always. Congrats to Howard, you haven't lost your touch. You are still as counterproductive as ever.

If you want news, in real time, without the blathering talking heads interjecting their worthless opinions, log onto Matt Drudge's prodigious 8 million hits per day site. It's the purest model for the Internet's intended purpose (besides ebay.com) out there. I've got a link on the left side of my home page, if this link doesn't work.

I am talked out about real estate, and this blog has rambled nicely. Suffice to say, tomorrow will have many new tantalizing morsels of real property. I will leave you with one rather attractive offering which intrigues me to no end.
This enormous dwelling is less than a quarter mile from my front door. It has every possible amenity and space to burn. The problem? It's larger than any TWO homes in the neighborhood. Sorry. But a great spot to live nonetheless.

Until tomorrow. Love you, Ryan.

Posted by: Paul @ 11:47 PM

Laura is sick. By sick I mean coughing up something that resembles a baby seal every other minute. She coughed so hard this morning that when she stopped for more than a minute I stood outside the bathroom and listened for signs of life. I thought she'd blown a gasket and was splayed out across the floor, writhing and salivating. We didn't visit Ryan tonight because to do so would have been the height of counterproductivity. My wife needs to cut herself a break. She is already back to work, and sounds thoroughly wrung out when she calls me at noon. Even half days may be a bit much for her at this point, but her greatest fear at this point is an idle mind. There are only two places which give her any measure of solace; at work or by Ryan's side. Even sleep is difficult, as she has expressed dread at the nitemare scenarios which may accompany slumber. All I can think of during this time is how in the world I ended up with such an incredible woman. Seriously, folks... she is a gem and I am one step removed from an industrial accident. What a country, eh?

Ryan's nurses have provided us with updates throughout the day. He's had a good day, and is now taking in twice the mother's milk in half the time! Just wait until I work a few Fruity Pebbles into the mix. He'll pack on the lbs. His numbers are good, his oxygen is being weaned, and he's getting plenty of quiet and rest. I love him. Unabashed, unchecked, unencumbered, unconditional... he's our boy. He's a good boy, and everyone wants him to come home to us. Each day is more of a blessing than the last, and there are times that I am blinded by the shimmering brilliance of the Master's brush strokes. One day soon, there will be pix, and video on this site. You'll fall in love with him, too. It's unavoidable.

As an aside, I'd like to give much love to my webmaster, Pete Ballasy. Pete is a computer guru at FMU in North Orlando. He is wonderfully talented, infinitely patient, and woefully underpaid for his skill level. And he is the test subject for the Biblical reference that "the meek shall inherit the earth." He and his lovely wife Priscilla are prototypical industrious and self-determined Americans who deserve every good thing that most assuredly will happen to them. (Actually I'm just looking for some additional bandwidth. I'll treat him like crap the moment he gives me more free stuff. Whoops, is my internal monologue still on?)

The battle for the precious Central Florida planetary surface continues to this minute. Just Listed this lakefront home sounds absolutely too good to be true. At a mind-boggling 4466 square feet, and on an acre lot, the asking price of $320k is limbo low. I'll have to investigate this tomorrow.

There are some excellent community infrastructures being carved out of the Lake Helen area. It's a close-knit and ferociously private area east of I-4 in South DeLand. Even they are not immune to the burgeoning builder interest in Central Florida. Tony Troy, a reputable builder in Lake Helen and Southwest Volusia, has a terrific enclave in the midst of development. Location and privacy are in abundance in this small subdivision. Marshall Bone has the exclusive building rights to a development on Taylor Road in DeLand which offers 2.5 acre wooded lots for the low 100's. These are quality parcels. They should be scooped up rather quickly, even with the stipulation that lot owners must use Bone Construction for their build.

Had a listing appointment this evening in Westminster Woods. A rather astute prospect who bought a home in the neighborhood for a song, and spent some serious cash on very stylish upgrades, was kind enough to interview me for the job of representing the conveyance of the property. I am hopeful that we'll be able to sign an agreement on Friday.
It helps my cause that I am closing escrow tomorrow on a $333,000 sale on the same street. There's nothing like a track record to bolster your resume.

Laura is about to doze for the evening, and I am going to attempt to get more than 4 hours sleep for the first time in roughly two weeks.

Thanks to all of our friends and readers for the unending support and prayers. Love you, Ryan. Get some sleep and keep eating!!

Posted by: Paul @ 11:41 PM

Rosanna Rosannadanna... name sound familiar? She was one of many memorable characters played by the late Gilda Radner on Saturday Night Live. Impossibly tangential, she would resolve all of her indecipherable editorials with "It's always something!" Truer words have never been spoken.

Ryan's day was an "it's always something" type of day. My duties as uber-REALTOR and tennis terminator prevented my attendance today, but Laura took a half day and sat with our boy. Doctor Bowen visited and explained that his Level 3 brain bleed had not progressed, nor had it abated. That simply sucks. It takes time for a premature infant's head to sort itself out, though I was a full-term infant, and have lived for 37 years and the judgment is still pending as to whether I've sorted out a darn thing. His lung x-ray showed a noticeable clearing, which is promising. Oxygen intake was steadily dropping, and mom's milk is now being administered every 3 hours! His weight is still jumping around, and today was a slight decrease again. For some reason, this doesn't worry me. If given the chance, I'll hone his skills into a world class over-eater. I can see our names in lights at the local buffet, or the two of us holding father-son trophies at a regional pie eating contest.

Nah, it's the bleeds that concern me, as I am sure they concern all involved. I pray for his mind to be supple, his motor skills to be unscathed. Laura shot some film today, and has a tiny snippet where he opens his eyes and looks into the camera. I have just watched this seemingly innocuous footage for the umpteenth time, and can't wait until this entry is completed so I can watch it again.

It doesn't matter where this takes us. He is loved, and has loved us right back.

Regarding the real estate market, I can only rejoice and stand in utter amazement at the fortuitous turn of events over the past twenty-four hours. Mad props go to Roger Baumgartner, who is working diligently to put the finishing touches on a momentous transaction by a firm from Orlando. Seller, buyer, agents, and most importantly... attorney, are all pleased with the results. I am speechless. It is like manna from heaven. With this initial blessing comes the opportunity for residual business from the conveyance of lots, and then homes. Sorry, but I've got to borrow a phrase from the fashionable felon and say that this... is a good thing.

Some interesting developments in the past twenty-four hours in and around DeLand include a reshuffle of MVP (most valuable properties.) The new king of the hill is this Orange Camp stunner. The square footage, unique and flexible floorplan, and private backyard are just a few of the reasons that I feel this is the best deal in South DeLand. You can practically fall onto the highway, and just as easily cruise into town along Blue Lake Avenue or 17-92. I just love the wooden detail on the vaulted ceiling as you enter the home.

Hey, if elegance and privacy are features you'll pay top dollar for then 999 Blue Lake is your dream come true. Sure, the ticket is kinda steep. But look at what you get for your housing dollar! Custom everything, a fenced and gated ten acres, and you would be the envy of every Scarface wannabe. Now that I think about it, this isn't really a Scarface kind of town. Maybe J.R. Ewing and Southfork would be a better analogy.

It's a shame that this comfy and spacious home on Oak Park hasn't sold yet. It may be a bit overpriced for the style of home that is offered, but hey the neighborhood has a private, stocked pond. Is there a better place for a kid to grow up then next to your very own fishin' hole?! I had contracted a spectacular home overlooking the pond, and was supposed to settle the property last Christmas. The buyers had sold their home, and were all set to move in when the seller decided not to sell. It was the biggest disappointment of my career, and when the buyers exercised stunningly poor judgment and violated my professional and personal trust, it cost Laura and I an erstwhile valuable friendship. Oak Park is a nice street, and this home is probably worth around $240-250K.

C'mon, folks... I need help with these Country Club Estates listings. I've got two beauts, and no bites. Tell your friends, call the relatives, beat the bushes, burn up those phone lines. The rates are good, and the time to buy is NOW.

Alright, this blog has degenerated into a sales pitch. Time to crash. Nite, Ryan! Mommy and daddy love you.

Posted by: Paul @ 1:21 AM

He was in my hands. Off of his sleeping cozy, suspended above terra firma, my boy fit snugly in these surprisingly steady hands. His eyes flew open at the insistence of my touch, then he yawned and settled, secure in his father's love. He is alive for one more day, and though the thick plastic of the isolet separated us, the cascade of all that I am enveloped him. Ryan is our son. May God shine his blessed light down upon him, and bring him home to us.

The isolet is a good thing. He's got a bit of the "rabbit ears." Quiet is key to developing eardrums, and Ryan's are most definitely functioning. The crying of other neonates brings a grimace that is at once adorable and troubling. Every fluctuation of the monitors makes us jump. His past 24 hours has been a textbook "one step forward, two steps back." His weight has decreased 2 ounces, his head circumference has increased a half centimeter. His spinal fluid is clear, yet his lungs are not. The penicillin is beginning its task of thwarting the pneumonia which has clouded his x-ray, and obscured his furiously beating heart. His color is good, but his assisted oxygen intake is high.

The cacophony of possibilities rings in our ears, and looking at my wife I wonder how we'll endure the next 12 hours, much less the next 2+ months. For no apparent reason the years of Sunday School dredge the fragments of an innocuous Bible verse, soothingly reminding that God will not give us more than we can handle. For those unfamiliar with the concept of belief in things unseen, this illustrates the prime mover of "faith." One of the first things I learned when enduring the most painful moments of my adult life was to "let go, and let God." So trite, yet so timelessly true. There are no guarantees, only the opportunity. Holding my beautiful two week old son, feeling him relax under my touch, seeing how his budding life has become an ambassadorship for our entire family and a stunning portion of the surrounding community, I am humbled and empowered beyond words. His fragile yet resilient existence is a daily reprogramming of this effective blueprint for living. We are all in God's hands. God is outside my isolet, holding me. God is telling me that he will be there for me. With faith comes solace, and immediately the specter of "what if" is washed away by the radiance of the moment. That's my boy. Two weeks and he's already throwing his weight around.

Laura consoled me while I softly wept in the cafeteria. She wanted to know why I was crying. The first few words of the story came out, and then I gave up. There was no need for a scene, and the story wouldn't translate well through sniffles. Later on, I found the roles reversed as we drove home in comfortable silence. She just needed to cry a bit, and I broke her up with a few corny observations. Her resolve through this has been nothing short of superhuman. All she wants is a shot at raising that kid. He seems intent on giving her that opportunity.

Alright, I'll tell you the reason for my episode. For some strange reason I thought of a moment in Baltimore Washington Airport a few years back. I'm not sure if I was married at the time, but something tells me I was because Laura's presence in my life has exponentially increased the introspection factor. We were waiting to board and I observed a family in line ahead of us. A casually dressed father in his mid-40s stood with his wife and pre-teen son, absently shuffling forward as we are wont to do when being herded into a flying steel tube. Their luggage indicated a ski vacation. The youngster was poised, well-behaved, yet possessing his own personality... spiky hair, and that intentionally unkempt attire of the snowboarding rebel. Not a knucklehead, just a kid growing up and finding himself. I remember being impressed that the father didn't feel the need to distance himself from the child's self-expression. Then, without warning, as the two moved slowly forward, the father put his arm around his boy and kissed his head. He whispered something in the boy's ear, and his son's spine straightened as he gravitated to his father's touch. No need for lip-reading, no doubt as to what he said or if he meant it. His son was secure in his dad's love. I watched it unfold then. I've cried about it often since, for various reasons.

Just give me the chance, I'll say it at every turn.

Ah, no real estate tonight. Tomorrow is going to be exciting enough, what with a possible land conveyance that would give me more work than a one-armed wallpaper hanger. Say a prayer for me to do my job well, and for our boy to continue to fight. He's such a good boy.

nite all...

Posted by: Paul @ 12:34 AM

Two weeks, one day, and he's two pounds! Ryan's weight has fluctuated a great deal, as fluid retention is a problem after a surgery so early in life. A diuretic took care of the excess, and he's looking a lot less "juicy." Laura and I have gotten into the habit of showing up slightly before the evening shift change, to meet the outgoing and incoming nurses. The overall competency of the NICU staff hovers between "dedicated" and "miraculous." They're just so finely tuned to both baby and parent's needs that it gives me pause about my own dedication to chosen career.

Ryan's oxygen intake is still under great assistance. His lungs are immature, so the ventilator is sometimes doing as much as half the work. His x-rays have shown significant increase in lung and heart definition, which means that the operation/ligation is enjoying a measure of success. Of the two antibiotics that were administered to treat his strep b, only the penicillin is still necessary. His head circumference decreased, which is a great sign that things are stabilizing in his li'l noggin. The visit was upbeat, and his caregiver Robin spent priceless moments giving us background into her 15 years of experience with neonates. Finally, we were alone with our boy for about fifteen minutes. The effort and earnest expression on his face when opening his eyes is something that everyone should see. His forehead furrows in concentration, and he sllllllllloooooooooowwwwwwwwwllllllllyyyyy lifts them open to varying degrees. His expression fairly screams "I'm trying... honestly, I am!" and Laura and I choke back tears and say "We love you, Ryan. You're such a good boy." If it all ended tomorrow, this moment would sustain me until we saw him again in heaven. I pray every waking moment that God will sustain us through this trying time, and allow us to eventually take our son home.

Today was a potentially fantastic day in my real estate career. I may have helped engineer a rather substantial land acquisition for a developer in Orlando. Thanks to some fancy footwork by Roger Baumgartner and myself, a potential private conveyance of almost 100 prime, buildable DeLand acres may be in the offing. It could all turn to creamed corn by Friday, but the chances are good that we'll hold this baby together. Roger is about as good as they come in town, and a real straight shooter. We've skirted the edges of doing a deal together for quite some time, to the point where I think my many phone calls to their office may have had them contemplating a restraining order. Today's chain of events was spectacular in their swiftness, and maybe there is some gold at the end of this rainbow.

Another resale has been offered in Victoria Hills. I'm more than a little perturbed, because I am sending a fair amount of advertising through this 'hood, and it seems as though the listings keep going to other brokerages. Oh, well... I'm going to keep sending poor photocopies of my hideously misshapen visage to these unsuspecting prospects until they knuckle under and give me all the business I can carry! The home seems to be a rather elegant traditional floorplan with generous dimensions, and the $104 per month for high-speed cable, internet, plus water and sewer is the best deal going. Taxes can be a bit steep, but that is the price one pays for a professionally structured community with public natural gas available to its owners.

I know this is a corny reason for me to like this home in Crystal Cove. It has a 6 disc CD changer in the house intercom. Yes, I am aware that you needn't purchase an entire home to enjoy this feature, but the fact that this home has it... amongst other amenities, is reason enough for it to make the blog for this evening.

The Cascades is a rather private yet convenient community catering to the client who wants a condo-style lifestyle with a single family setting. Gated and tucked away just west of DeLand proper, the neighborhood shows well and has appreciated steadily in value over the past 18 months. This price may be a bit ambitious, but not overly. I look for it to sell inside of 45 days.

Lastly, this new offering in lovely Gleneagles is destined to be here and gone in short order. There is a dearth of "for sale" signs in this enclave, and it will not last three weeks on the market. Warren Todd is the listing agent, and a friend from DeLand Country Club. He is a retired Baltimore cop with a fare-thee-well attitude and twenty years of success in the industry. I'm sure he's done his homework and has it priced to move. Come to think of it, I may have a buyer for him. Note to self, make a sale tomorrow.

Alrighty then, off to never-never land. Good night, little Ryan. Daddy loves you.

Posted by: Paul @ 1:45 AM

What a weekend! Sorry for the poor attitude in yesterday's blog. Sleep deprivation will invariably make you cranky. Nothing like a bunch of zzzzzzz's to correct the problem. We saw Ryan today, and mom and step-dad were in attendance. It was a touch-n-go type of day, with the attending nurse mentioning that the Nurse Practitioner wanted to speak with us about Ryan's condition. "Here we go," I thought. Laura had retired to a a private room to "express" her milk, so I had to wait for almost 45 minutes before we got our audience with Sharon, the NP. She looked at our worried faces and said flatly "You all look so nervous." Uh, YEAH! Hearing that she wanted to speak with us was like being summoned to the principal office. You don't know why you're going, but you know it can't be good.

She immediately put our minds at ease by telling about Ryan's day. The consensus from the bloodwork is that he has a form of streptococcus, and is being treated with antibiotics. A spinal tap revealed clear spinal fluid, an excellent sign of potential recovery from the brain bleeds. Sharon and Ryan's nurse, Brandy, were very reassuring and matter of fact in their assessment of his progress. He is 2 weeks old today, and he grows more beautiful with every passing moment.

Before we left, Sharon was kind enough to turn off the lights and remove his blinders. For the next several minutes we whispered and cooed like the giddy parents we were. Then, without warning, he lurched away from REM sleep and with a momentous effort OPENED HIS BOTTOMLESS BLUE EYES, and looked at us for what seemed like an eternity. To call the moment sublime is to damn it with the faintest of praise. He responded to our voices, and focused on us for as long as his delicate eyelids would allow. We went to pieces.

My friend David Hutsell has joined us for the evening. He is a PGA professional, and a fully-exempt member of the 2004 Hooters Tour. His first tournament begins this Thursday in Jacksonville, and he is staying over and we will play golf in the morning. When you see his name in lights, remember you heard it here first.

Real estate blogging will resume in the afternoon on Monday. I've got to say a prayer for the son, and then hit the hay.
Borderline segueway, but speaking of sons, it looks as though the Godless Hollywood elites are hating life about the success of a certain Aussie. Good for him. Mel is a man's man.

tomorrow, tomorrow.... Ah, you know the words.

Posted by: Paul @ 12:18 AM

It's been an arduous two days. Sorry for the lack of blogging on Friday. Laura and I stayed at the Ronald McDonald House adjacent to the hospital. It was lovely, and in hindsight completely unnecessary. We live about 45 minutes from Florida South Hospital, and the curiosity about such an benevolent amenity got the best of us. The McDonald Houses are miraculous for what they provide, and with a regional hospital like FL South, it is a godsend for relatives of the infirmed. We should have made the trip home, as I slept fitfully and in a bed separate from my wife. Seven years of curling up with the same wonderful woman makes a night in a single bed seem downright torturous.

Ryan is recouping slowly from surgery. He's retained some fluid, and as you can imagine is in pain from the procedure. He is under the lights, his breathing is under heavy assistance, and the scar is rather ominous across is left side. Today was not a good day for me, oddly enough. We visited him in the morning, and I spent a few minutes alone with him. That resulted in an unexpected breakdown. Nurse Nan had to console me, and it was more than a bit embarrassing. After a wonderful dinner courtesy of our friends Amy and Chris Howe (President of Howe Properties, more on him in the coming blogs...) we made the trek back to the hospital to say "good night." Ryan was in apparent discomfort, and my lack of sleep and overall perspective got the better of me again. The idea that he may one day come home to us seems utterly remote to me. He is so fragile, so vulnerable, so... little. I just can't stand the not knowing part of this. If we lose this precious little child, I don't know how we'll take the next step. I know that I shouldn't be talking, or writing, this way... but hey, I'm human. He's not out of the woods, by any stretch. Tonight was all the proof I needed.

Pray for him. Yes, this is a real estate web log, but to heck with it. If I could trade my meager existence for this boy to have a bite of the apple, I'd sign the papers and climb aboard without saying goodbye to a soul.

I need sleep. Now.

Posted by: Paul @ 12:35 AM