(c) Prawny via pixabay
Trying to sell our house is proving to be an interesting experience.
There’s the living on the edge of your nerves, waiting for the phone to ring and then having to leap into action to make the house look vaguely presentable. Having to clean the house regularly so you don’t have to leap into too much action when the phone rings. Putting things away where they’re kept (an alien concept to me). Keeping the garden looking neat and having to tell the laurel hedge off for putting on a sudden growth spurt.
(c) Skitterphoto via pixabay
Then there’s the issue of putting your entire life on hold. No matter how much you try to carry on as normal, the ‘When we’ve moved’ conversations abound. It doesn’t help that it’s difficult to plan anything in case there’s a viewing or an offer appears from someone able to proceed and then you really have to leap into action!
As well as all of the above, there’s the delightful prospect of having complete strangers pick over every detail of your home – both online and in reality.
Most viewers, so far, have been lovely people and some I’d be more than happy to have as neighbours. But the saying, ‘There’s nowt so queer as folk,’ as well as being very unpc, is also very true.
One viewer claimed she’d dreamed, back in 1976, of a house exactly like mine. One argued about which way it faced. Seeing as I’ve lived here for over sixteen years, you’d think I know where the sun rises and goes down by now! One couple asked a shed-load of questions about the boiler and Wi-Fi strength, did a second viewing and then were never heard from again. I’ve had a relative of a prospective buyer knock on the door at eight on a Saturday morning and last week an extended family of seven descended. I’m convinced they were having a family day out to look around a nice house in the country. Maybe I should start charging National Trust entry fees?
(c) Tookapic via pixabay
Then there was the pleasant woman who, having undertaken several visits and measured up the garden for a prized ornament, decided the house was too far from her daughter. You’d think she’d have consulted a map before going to so much trouble. And I’ve been lucky. My viewers have been fairly positive. A neighbour reminisced about a young couple who looked around her very beautiful, Grade Two listed cottage and criticised it so much (in her hearing) that she threw them out.
(c) RonPorter via pixabay
Mind you, thinking back to when we were looking at houses to buy, we had some odd experiences too. There was the time we viewed a house full of people sleeping off a party from the night before. The estate agent was so cross, she marched us through the guest bedroom with its occupants still in bed. Funnily enough, we didn’t buy. I remember a house with its floors carpeted in the best brown swirly patterns the seventies could offer and an owner who insisted the river at the end of his garden and which was notorious for flooding, was a gentle trout stream. And we nearly bought the cottage with its garden complete with little gravestones of deceased pets.
(c) Ciker-Free-Vector-Images via pixabay
Our house comes without swirly brown carpeting or pet graves. I’m holding out that the very lovely couple who have offered to buy but have yet to sell their house, will be able to proceed soon. After all, I promised myself that I’d only sell to someone who would love this house as much as I do!
What amusing or alarming stories have you got about buying and selling houses? Or do these things only happen to me?!
Love,
Georgia x
