Well, we've been getting "Lookers". Prospective Homebuyers.

In fact, that's how the first person who came to see the house with his realtor introduced himself to me,"Hi, I'm Aleph, Prospective Homebuyer"

Really, I managed NOT to say, I thought you were the vice president of Finland Good grief! Why else would this guy be looking in my closets?

He didn't seem too interested - his realtor seemed more interested in the house than he did....

I think he was looking for an investment property.

The next day brought Mrs.Bet and her son, for whom I think the house would be a good fit. They were friendly, talkative people who had once owned a newfoundland dog, and therefore spent almost as much time playing with Winston as they did looking at the house and property.

Last night, because my realtors were coming by with Mrs.Gimmel ( yes, those of you who are familiar with the Hebrew Alphabet ought to be seeing a pattern here!) I left the front door unlocked. As I was out getting the mail, I noticed a man in a car across the street listening to our "talking house".

Okay, the house itself isn't saying much, but the radio transmittor that Jeff put in the bedroom is. There's a sign under the realtor's name and number which says "talking house" and "tune into to thus and such and AM radio station for information". Thus, a person who is passing by can pull over and hear the particulars - how many bedrooms, how many baths, etc and then decide if it's worthwhile to get in touch with the agents. It's a good idea, especially for a house in such a high traffic location, and I'm grateful to my realtors for providing the feature. The broadcast says, clearly, to contact the realtors for information, and their phone number is on the sign, which is, really, as big as life and twice as ugly. The whole thing is really pretty clear.

I left the door unlocked because the dog and I were home, and I don't exactly set the land speed record for getting to the door needing my cane most of the time as I do. So, if I looked out the door of the home office when I heard them knock, I could call to them to come in without keeping them waiting an inordinate amount of time.

Well, I heard a knock, got to my feet, and could see through the glass that it was not my realtors and Mrs.Gimmel, but the man who had been listening to the broadcast from across the street. The fellow was korean, I could see. Well, maybe they do things differently where he's from or he didn't hear the broadcast all the way through I thought, and went forward to go out onto the porch to speak with him.

But, before I could take another step out into the hallway, the door opened and the man came inside! He was half way into the dining room, while I stood there stupidly, appalled, and more than a little bit frightened. Thankfully, Winston, all 210 lbs of him, was at my side in an instant, and, unsure why this guy was standing in my dining room before I had let him in or spoken to him, he bounded over to check him out at a pretty good clip for a mastiff. Any thought that I had that this guy might just be culturally or linguistically out of his depth evaporated. I really think that if that had been true, he would have smiled and extended his hand for the dog - but he didn't. He bolted for the door so fast and slammed it so hard behind him that the china rattled in the cupboard in the dining room.

"Sorry to bother you!" he said, safely from the porch. "You selling this house? How much you sell for right now?" I couldn't help but think his speech pattern was of someone pretending to have a lesser command of the language than he really did.

"If you are interested in the house, call the realtor. The number is on the sign." I said stonily, through the glass, "And let me give you a word of advice. In this country you NEVER walk into a house unasked. You understand? My dog will protect me. You understand?"

"Oh, okay, oh, no problem." he said, but his "contrite" look was a little thin compared to the frustrated look underneath it.

My guess is that he was not a serial murderer, but a "finder" - a guy out looking for property that an investor might be able to get cheaply by dealing with a homeowner who was under pressure to sell, that is, by dealing with the homeowner directly, offering a quick sale, waiving inspections, etc, and also offering an amount way below market value. I think the guy judged the age of the house, took in the "period" porch furniture and The Hub's proudly flying American flag and expected to find within an elderly widow or widower whom he planned to intimidate just a little. His body language - and that's the same no matter what you speak - looked like that when he came in the door.

'Course, Winston out-intimidated him in a big hurry!

I'm telling you, that dog is worth his weight in gold!