The Sleeping Mama Bear

An area I've always considered 'MagicLand' is the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore in northwestern Michigan. The area conjures thoughts of exquisite natural beauty, relaxation, and a major 'pattern interrupt' from the day-to-day.

I was able to introduce a friend to the area this summer. Since we only had a few days and didn't want to burn out trying to do too much during his initial visit, I pared it down to the 'gotta do's.'

Two of those were Art's Tavern, the landmark-local-color-dive-restaurant-bar in the tiny town of Glen Arbor where we stayed, and the Pierce Stocking Scenic Drive (in no particular order).

We were blessed with hot, clear weather and had sufficiently rested to spend the final day of our trip exploring the area on bicycles, a common mode of local transport.

We rode around Big and Little Glen Lakes, turquoise in color, and, if I'm not mistaken, listed by National Geographic as among the world's top ten most beautiful. From there we dovetailed into our scenic drive adventure.

Only 7.5 miles long, the drive through the dunes is named after it's creator, Pierce Stocking, a former area lumberman who's vision created the road with its series of scenic overlooks. It first opened in 1967 and was operated by Mr. Stocking until his death in 1976. In 1977 it became part of the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore.

I don't know if it was the fact that it was 85 degrees and humid and we had already been riding about 15 miles to get to the entrance or the fact that it had been seven years since I'd last done the route, but, leg muscles straining, I toppled off my bike as we reached the final ascent to overlook #2, with its bird's eye view of the glacier-carved Glen Lakes. After a pause for pictures and an 'I-think-I-can-I-think-I-can' mantra, we continued from one spectacular overlook to the next with views of Lake Michigan and the Manitou Islands. I did notice that while there was a healthy stream of car traffic, apart from us, the bike lanes were empty.

After resigning to walking up an extended, crazy-steep incline (the kind where you stand on your pedals with full body weight trying to move against gravity and they're not budging), the crowning glory of the drive was the Lake Michigan Overlook. From the top of the dune it is a steep grade, 450 feet down, to sparkling waters and a lake vista that stretches 54 miles across to Wisconsin.

By the time we finished our ride, I told my friend: 1) I had new appreciation for a micro-inkling of what Tour de France guys endure, 2) imagined what great shape one would be in if this was done once a week and 3) was never so glad to see a sign that said I was leaving a scenic area.

We did return later that evening—by car—to appreciate what we did accomplish (Gary said he was getting thumbs up from passing drivers who saw us on bikes—I was too busy trying to breathe) and watch the sunset.

This area is a national treasure that, thanks to visionaries like Pierce Stocking, will continue to enrich the lives of many fortunate visitors for decades to come.

Note: A dune high on a bluff covered with thick vegetation was christened "sleeping bear" by the Chippewa Indians. The accompanying folklore describes a mother bear fleeing a raging forest fire by swimming across the lake and waiting for her two cubs to follow her to land. Not to be the purveyor of sad stories, but the cubs drowned within sight of the shore. The Great Spirit Manitou created two islands (North and South Manitou) to mark the spot where the cubs drowned and the solitary dune to represent the faithful mama bear.

©2010 catherine lenard

The Art of Genuine Presentation

I had the opportunity for a first-time meeting with the Director of Events for an upscale facility who was beautifully made up, coiffed, and dressed. When I asked if there was an event that day to merit her striking appearance, she said, "No," and explained that she had worked for Mary Kay Ash, of Mary Kay Cosmetics, in a past life and was therefore, conditioned.

Whatever I came in to see her about took a back seat to finding out more about the Pink Cadillac Lifestyle (she'd had more than a few). Seems that Ms. Mary Kay insisted that her sales force have their acts together when they set foot out the door whether to pick up a half gallon at the mini-mart or give a presentation.

Having worked in design, marketing, and now staging, which is design, marketing, and presentation, discussion ensued on the, relaxed, shall we say, way people present themselves these days. She mused about the look of a man in a suit (I will add well-tailored) and how nice that is to witness—rare in the area where I live where khakis and a golf shirt are 'perty special.'

I commented that I now think twice about 'flip flopping around,' because although I live in a resort area, you never know who you're going to run in to. Case in point, unexpectedly being introduced to my friend's esteemed big-city colleague at a local produce market. She, perfectly put together, mind you, and me, in local-lay-back mode, hoping I didn't have a toothpaste drip lurking on my tee shirt.

We're all familiar with, "Don't judge a book by it's cover," but it seems to be true that people who are well-dressed and groomed are treated with more deference than those who are not (unless they're just really obnoxious). I suppose there are a few ways to look at this.

I went through the phase of getting used to not wearing make-up in a quest for natural authenticity by dropping the Flame Red (excuse me, Flamme) lipstick I had worn for years. The process embodied a curious mix of vulnerability and defiance. Then, at a particularly dark point in my life when family members were dropping like flies, it took every bit of strength to get myself out the door—let alone look presentable doing it.

Having traversed these passages, I'm now at a balance point. While I am comfortable with myself with or without makeup, in public or private, I'm in a phase of life where I prefer and enjoy the effect of packaging myself nicely (most of the time). Is it the reward of the journey to date? I think so.

The Events Director had an interesting business perspective. She said something to the effect of, "If someone cares enough to take care of themselves, I feel they are going to take good care of me."

It may not have been said in so many words, but I think when we care for ourselves from a place of healthy and genuine self-love, it naturally cascades into love and respect for others.

Thanks, Joyce. It was a fun and thought-provoking afternoon.

©2010 catherine lenard

The IRS & The Black, White, & Greys of Home Staging

Rather than take rumor as truth, I called the IRS to get an answer from the 'horse's mouth' on whether or not home staging to sell a property is tax deductible.

I spoke with Mike, a surprisingly personable customer service agent, who didn't know much about staging, but spent a great deal of time researching my questions. During the course of several days of intermittent conversations, he did confess that his wife gave him insight on what staging was from HGTV. Fortunately, he was interested to learn more about my business services for his resource repertoire. He also consulted with an IRS attorney for additional input. While I was hoping for a simple, black and white answer, here is what I learned:

• There is a lot of grey area within the IRS. There are no specific codes directed specifically to Staging. The closest code addresses real estate selling expenses and is referenced in IRS Publication 523.

• That being said, the IRS' position is that Staging is a legitimate selling expense for primary and secondary homes and therefore tax deductible.

• As my business also provides decluttering/organization services in preparation for selling a house, I did ask if those fees were tax deductible as well. Mike said yes, with the caveat that it came down to common sense, logic, and judicious use of how those services are used—for selling a house, not personal convenience—in case of an audit.

• When asked about the deductibility of furniture rentals, he said if a property is vacant, yes. If a client is living in the house and using furniture rentals while the house is for sale, no.

• If the house is staged and taken off the market, staging expenses are not tax deductible.

• Cost basis adjustment versus selling expense was also discussed. He said cost basis adjustments are referenced as permanent improvements which add value to a home such as a roof, landscaping, central air, new fence, etc. Those are not tax deductible. Minor repairs or cosmetics to get a house ready for sale are a selling expense and are tax deductible.

To recap, according to the IRS:

• Professional staging services are tax deductible

• Decluttering and organizing services are also deductible, as long as judiciously used for preparing a house for sale.

• Contracting services and repairs are in the grey area and depend on facts and circumstances. Home improvements—no; minor repairs to prepare a house for sale—yes.

While it was enlightening talking with a friendly and informative IRS rep, as you hear in disclaimer-ville, "I'm not an attorney or CPA," so please discuss your specific circumstances with your own professional. That's the black, white, and grey of it.

©2010 catherine lenard

Breathing New Life Into a Simple, Deserving House

I was asked to submit an article as the 'Expert du Jour' for a 'before and after' feature for a national home staging web site. To see how an ugly duckling was transformed, please visit this link to their site.



©2010 catherine lenard