Sunday, August 28, 2005
A productive Saturday, but not what we had planned
Arrived at the old farm. Introduced ourselves to the real estate agent, who was patiently waiting for drop-ins. He hadn't realized there'd be no furniture in the place -- the last time he'd been there was back in May when it was furnished and staged. He had no place to sit, except on the built-in buffet space between the family room and the kitchen. His nibs chatted with him, explaining that all the furniture had been removed in July prior to the original COE date but that there'd be furniture arriving tomorrow (today, Sunday) with more to follow.

I swept the front paths and the back patio, even though Juan's showing up Monday to do a proper blow. We were expecting visitors today, and the front paths couldn't wait.

Chuck brought his old friends by to look over the place. "Not what you were expecting to do today, is it?" he asked. His old friends were the couple from up at the end of the street. "Diamond Jim" our tree guy calls him. I was glad I'd swept up before Diamond Jim arrived.

I headed off to Home Depot for a mop and a toilet brush, a toilet flapper, plants, &c. While I was gone, his nibs vacuumed and patched up the holes the stagers had left the first time they came through. Painted over the patches after they'd dried. Tried to fix the lock on the back house. Couldn't. I'll have to arrange for a locksmith and sit and wait next week some time.

$112.50 later, I arrived back. Handed off the toilet brush, toilet cleaner, toilet flapper to his nibs, who proceeded to clean four bathrooms and fix the flapper in the upstairs master bath while I potted and planted flowers and placed the pots.

The stagers showed up early with stuff. They didn't want to interfere with the unplanned open house, but we said, "Come on in. You'll just be more proof to visitors that the escrow fell through yesterday and the house is back on the market." They promised to have the place ready for the Wednesday broker tour and commiserated over the failed escrow.

The real estate agent left. He'd had a so-so day. Four couples/family groups came by, maybe five. Plus Diamond Jim and his wife with Chuck.

Did I mention the real estate agent drove a shiny new BLACK HUMMER? No? I thought that was an interesting car of choice for an agent.

Turned out he'd graduated HS a year before I did and spent his earlier career as basketball coach at my alma mater, starting there four years after I'd graduated. He knew Diamond Jim's wife because she used to be married to the basketball coach at St. Francis. We talked about my alma mater. He said, did you know Dick B? He was a senior when I was a freshman, I said. You wouldn't've been there when Jim P was there. I was: he was a senior when I was a freshman too. He named about six or seven guys, all but one of whom I knew of.

Small world.

Six hours after we arrived, we left. Flowers by the front steps. Flowers out by the back patio. Flowers in the front. Clean. Spackled. Painted. Vacuumed. Staging in progress. The place is ready to shine. Again.




: views from the Hill






Bertold Brecht:   
Everything changes. You can make
A fresh start with your final breath.
But what has happened has happened. And the water
You once poured into the wine cannot be
Drained off again.
























Bookmark and Share

Subscribe with Bloglines

powered by FreeFind



Site search Web search

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?

Weblog Commenting and Trackback by HaloScan.com


free hit counter



()

recent posts



views from the hill archives