Before I start with the new, I thought I’d sign off with the old house. It’s been so long since we put it up for sale, and then accepted an offer, that I think I’d lost all feeling I’d ever had for it. Of course, I’ve said before, it was the house that we brought Scarlett back to (and Jude, for a mere six days), but it’s been too long.
We took full benefit of the crappy weather this Easter weekend and went a bit mad cleaning, tidying, listing on eBay and binning stuff. So cathartic!
We’ve tentatively sold (simultaneously crossing fingers and holding breath as we don’t have a date through yet), and with a baby due in June, we realised we need to clear out the old to make space for the new.
Following our harrowing Homebase trip, we ordered some brackets from t’internet and then drilled big holes into our house to make it all pretty like.
In the meantime, you can see that Scarlett dedicated herself ostensibly to keeping them alive (see exhibit A), which was negated by the armfuls of pink blooms she wandered inside to bin the following day.
We visited Homebase last week, a harrowing trip where we lost Scarlett for a full five minutes and found her in the outdoor bit, presumably returning to a plaster of Paris sheep that had taken her fancy. I actually ran round with a full trolley balanced with flowers without thinking to just abandon it. Great cardio.
We managed to gather ourselves enough to pay for our purchases: lots of flowers for the long planter in the back garden, and two hanging baskets which were on offer, presumably because Britain is not likely to see the sun again this decade.
I am not a patient person and the lack of control in house selling is driving me crazy.
Following a challenging six months with our original estate agent, we’ve cut the apron strings and moved onto another. There was some miscommunication, and we’d come to the natural end of the contracted period, so we thought we’d take the opportunity to get bumped back up the Rightmove ranks and try a slightly different market.