The Palace on Summit Road

It arrives in a plain white envelope, looking innocent enough, sandwiched between a pizza coupon and a dry-cleaning flyer. But then you open it. You blink. You rub your eyes. You check the address to make sure you haven’t accidentally been deeded a small European chateau or a private island.

It’s definitely your house, and according to the latest property-tax assessment, your humble abode—the one with the temperamental dishwasher and that one floorboard that squeaks if you breathe on it—is apparently worth more than a gold- plated penthouse.

Welcome to assessment sticker shock. It’s that magical moment when the county decides your backyard shed is a detached luxury studio and your cozy living room is a grand hall. Suddenly, you’re feeling very fancy, but your bank account is feeling very nervous.

You aren’t just a helpless bystander in this financial drama. You can appeal. The process of appealing is a bit like a polite, paper-based duel. First, you have to gather your evidence. This involves looking at comparables, looking online at what the neighbors’ houses sold for while muttering, “But their kitchen hasn’t been updated since 1994!”

Next, you’ll fill out forms that ask for a lot of details, occasionally making you feel like you’re defending your home’s honor. You’ll find yourself highlighting every tiny flaw you usually try to hide. That crack in the driveway? That’s not a nuisance; that’s exhibit A. The leaky faucet? That’s a water feature that lowers your home’s value.

It feels a little absurd to spend your weekend proving your house isn’t quite as glorious as the county thinks it is, but it can pay off. The good news? The appeal process is there for a reason. It’s a conversation, not a sentence. So take a deep breath, put on your detective hat, and start gathering those comps. If you need a hand navigating the paperwork or just want to vent about how your bungalow isn’t actually a chateau, I can pull a list of recent comparables in your neighborhood to help you prove that your home is, in fact, a home and not a royal estate.

Keith Kanady is a real estate broker with Compass. You can call him at 408-316-1666 or email Keith.Kanady@Compass.com. Lago Lomita Vineyards Weeds: An Ode to the In-Row Harrow Robin Porter In our vineyard, weeds take nutrients and water from the soil that our vines could really use. They also slow down other vineyard operations such as pruning, thinning, and harvesting.

The first method we tried to clear the weeds was to deploy an army of gas-powered weed whackers. There’s a human problem with this—I call it distracted whacking. We have over 14 miles of vineyard rows. It’s boring work. We also have a great view, especially on clear, sunny days. If the weed whacker accidentally contacts the rootstock, it will break through the periderm, or bark.

Like trees, this is the protective layer that helps deter insects and disease. You won’t see the effects of damage right away. It could take years, but the vine is compromised. If you do this every season, you’ll end up with more vines at risk. We knew there had to be a better way.

Today, we use an in-row harrow that attaches to our tractor. It consists of a mulcher made of vertical rotating blades that shreds weeds, incorporates them back into the soil, and aerates the soil. As you drive the tractor down the vineyard rows, an adjustable hydraulic sensor at the front works as a feeler system to signal to the mulcher when a vine is in the way. When this sensor contacts the vine, the mulcher component immediately moves out of its path. The tractor continues to move forward, and as the sensor clears the vine, it signals the mulcher to move back into the space between the vines.

This whole system can move between 1.5 and 3.0 miles per hour. It takes a few days to do our entire vineyard, but it only takes one tractor operator (my husband, Mark) instead of a crew of workers with weed whackers. It also doesn’t damage the vines and provides soil benefits at the same time.

Mark may be the best in-row harrow man in all the land. The invention of the in-row harrow made it possible.