Saturday, October 11, 2003

2 days: The amount of time it took for the house to return to it's *natural* state.

2 hours: The number of hours the inspector spent going over every crack and corner of the house; an agonizing process I liken to a public bikini waxing.

2: The number of rabbits I did not mention to the landlord.

24 hours: The time left before we can go to see our new home.

16 days: How much time we have before the movers come.

There has been an amusing aspect to selling this house. I was so anxious about the actual sale and whether, or not, anyone would buy this large and unique property, that I never thought of people loving this place. Yet, "Duh!" It is logical to deduce that someone buying the house would like the house. And still I am befuddled by the praise, "We love everything you've done here," and their interest in things, decor and taste. "Would you be interested in selling your dining set?" and "Will you sell us your bench?" and "We really like these painted pieces, are you keeping them?"

They bought the tractor. No need to feel too sorry for Geoff; he consoles himself with the thought of someday buying "the bigger one." They bought our huge outdoor table and benches, which is somewhat of a relief, because it weighs more than the house. At the negotiating table the selling agent said casually, "And they want the pool furniture." This knocked me on my ass. I never expected anyone to give a second glance to the blue chairs and tables sitting around our pool. I painted them last Summer, with flowers, and a checkerboard, a view, and other garden themes, and I keenly felt my attachment to them, when I heard Geoff say, "Yea, sure." There is some history here: In one home I painted murals on the children's wall, and we sold that house. In our last home I painted framed murals along the garden fence, never expecting we'd leave, but we did. I thought, 'this time I will be more clever and only paint what I can bring with me.' Geoff tries to console me, "Think of it this way, your art sells houses," and he grins at me encouragingly. I am seriously tempted to paint our annoying and dull bed, which we'd be happy to sell.


NOT FOR SALE

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