All Bubble, No Gum?

Are we in the midst of a housing bubble? Is the bubble going to burst?

Torontonians have flocked to the housing market for the past few years in unprecedented numbers, and the professional sellers have created a situation where only those with deep pockets can get in on the action. Bidding wars mean the price is only a starting number and buying is a tense high-stakes game for those willing to extend themselves to the max. Consequently, prices are high, really high!

So, are we in a bubble, where tomorrow the home you own may not be worth what you paid for it? Are prices ready to plummet?

For most Toronto homes, this isn’t too likely, as long as interest rates stay reasonable. But beware; if too many people have bought at prices they can’t really afford if interest rates go up, they might have to try to dump their homes. This could happen in condos, where there are lots of buyers all grouped in bunches.

Who has a crystal ball? Not me! The real estate profession will tell you not to worry and keep on buying. I’d make sure I can afford a possible bumpy ride with some turbulence!

It feels so good!

The rush was undeniable. Surrounded by the crush of the bazaar, I was momentarily overwhelmed by the choices, the colours and the smells. But soon, I regained my equilibrium and was back to filling my cart, and in my imagination, my home. Occasionally, a merchant would come to my aid and I would find something obscure, but always there was happiness, sheer, clean happiness.

Since the days of the Romans, the agora has been more than the place to replenish supplies, it’s been the hub of social activity and a lively exchange of banter and barter. Today it’s the same, for those of us who love the thrill, to see things that are new, fresh and available. Excellent shopping can take place at H & M, Zara or, in my case last Friday.... Canadian Tire.

Here’s to retail therapy!

My Man

Gerry is a wonderful, sweet, man and lying beside me, even a bit shriveled, weakened and slightly demented by age, he’s still the person I fell in love with. Generous, he introduced me to opera and fine dining, drying soft Boston lettuce in a dish towel, when I’d only ever tasted iceberg. Before. Now, still discerning, he likes his salad greens varied and his meals as well as his wardrobe full of colour. I could talk him into buying a crystal champagne goblet instead of toilet paper or trying to plan a trip to Paris when when when. When the money comes in, when the warm weather comes, when the passports we need are ready and we can still count in English and maybe a little in French.