Eight People in the Butler's Pantry

Eight People in the Butler's Pantry  

           What I Love About Being a Realtor 

 A surprise by its very definition is unexpected.  And often, the unexpected joys in life are the ones that keep us doing what we do. 

I have had the pleasure of helping numerous families find home.  And, among those families, a couple of pretty large families.  Families with 5 children (yes, each) to find a home they all love.

What I didn't expect was to find the joy of connecting with the children that I have missed so much since leaving the teaching/Choral Director profession.  I taught voice and choirs for 25 years.  And with a very special young lady from, I had the opportunity to teach a voice lesson beside a picturesque pond on a beautiful property that will welcome a family ready to fill the house with new memories.

You see, when I left teaching, I didn't know how much I would miss my kids.  And as I listened to a lovely young voice belonging to the oldest girl, I was inspired to sing an aria in the woods. I also met a young writer, the second oldest at 13.  And a very energetic and loving 8 year old, and finally, two rambunctious and well mannered young men.  I have a deep respect for the parents of these incredible children.

The young writer shares her take on her family's search for the perfect property.  This young lady has talent.  Enjoy!

Eight People in the Butler's Pantry
by Sarah Landsman

On the way to the early 20^th century home, a chorus of voices merged to form absolute chaos in our Excursion. That's what happens when 5 children are packed in a car on the way to there new possible home. So I throw in my occasional thoughts along with the babble that sounded like something along the lines of a school cafeteria.

 We pull up to the house and there is a silence that just so happens to be extremely rare, believe it or not. White columns line the wraparound porch and windows overlook a quiet pasture where three horses graze, unaware of the mayhem that awaits their quiet home. Doors open and, like a herd of rampant animals, children pour out of the green Excursion.

A medley of cheery voices ring out and the kids spread around like a handful of ants. They run up and down the front yard and crowd up at the fence, calling, ‘here horsey horsey!!' in an attempt to coax the stallions to their outstretched hands. 

 
In a flurry of pebbles and dust, our realtor, Mari Montgomery, pulls up and steps out of her car. I follow her, along with all of my siblings and our parents, to the front door where we file into the house.

 Once inside, the chaos resumed as children's voices staked their claims on certain rooms and they dashed back and forth, exploring the new layout. Ten little feet ran to and fro, and the occasional look at this, oh wow!, and come see, come see, spurt forth from all around the spacious house. Eventually, the chaos dimmed and all the children were rounded up for the "real" tour. We walked through the house slowly, looking at the fixtures and old time charm of the house built in 1908. 

 Everything is going good. I'm counting down until someone among my family causes a large mishap and our wonderful streak is ruined. Then... we reach it. Mrs. Montgomery announces cheerfully, "And this is the ...butler's pantry."

 Oh wow. Two seconds earlier the children had their hands folded behind their backs. Two seconds earlier they had been silent, perfect little ladies and gentlemen. But, now. The kids explode!  A fusion of Butler!?!, A what?, What's that mommy?, Huh?, and giggles rise from their mouths and all my siblings laugh hysterically at what they think is the biggest joke of the century. 

The tour continues and the rest of the home and grounds are lovely but, it will be the butler's pantry that is talked about after and the butler's pantry that will be the laughed about for nights on end.

Fun things happen in large families. Funny stuff happens when you go house hunting with your somewhat eccentric realtor. 

Memories happen when you have eight people... in the butler's pantry.