Househunting sharpens neighborhood observations. 

I notice:
- the smiling cracks traipsing across homes
- the fingers, hands and arms of weeds protruding from the earth
- curtains flapping wildly outside the confines of the window
- the energy moving up and down the street...good, weird, unhappy, forlorn, neglected, energized
- cars congregating in spaces no cars belong

Looking at homes to buy hones the senses, helps to see what is often ignored or accepted.

Here is a scene: 

An ad is read outloud - "Home owners in process of moving."

Flash forward to potential homebuyers entering the premises. It's not the piles of debris that catches the visitors off-guard, it isn't the peeling paint or the sad excuse for a fireplace. No, it is the scent of ammonia that assails our dedicated potential home-buyers senses. It is the smell of cat urine and it permeates every square inch of the house...even outside, our intrepid trio cannot escape the odor.

Note to home-sellers: Don't let potential homebuyers walk through a house that appears to have been struck by a tornado than soaked in the urine of a hundred cats. Your house will not sell. Trust me.

Another scene:

The ad proudly claims "interesting colors" as if "interesting" and "color" were meant to be united in selling homes.

All is well in the house - new cabinetry, new tile, a well-kept backyard. The visitors wonder momentarily what is so interesting about pastel yellow and eggshell white. But those thoughts are lost when their eyes attempt to adjust to a room of neon hot pink. Upon entering, everyone becomes martian pink, a new alien species in a northern Californian town. Another room, a splash of violet becomes an ocean of purple and cascades into a shade of lavendar. Sounds nice, but does not see nice.

Ah, the art of looking for a home.