Yesterday I was telling my sister about the fannying about I’ve been doing every morning to get the house ship shape for [potential] viewings…doing the washing up, fluffing up the cushions, cleaning the loo, taking the pants and socks off the radiators (whether they were dry or not), and even making the beds. I also, in my paranoia, took the tatty laundry basket to work with me as I didn’t want to leave it on the landing for all and sundry to see. (I didn’t actually take it in the office tho, it just sat on the back seat of the car all day). Harriet, my lovely sister, agreed that when her house was on the market she, too, used to do this, texting me:‘OMG, that’s what we did with our laundry basket and our coats, shoes and, get this sis, the fucking hamster!’
1 comment:
I couldn't, just couldn't, have strangers walking round commenting on negatve aspects of my home, I couldn't stand it, I'd take it far too personally and ending up throwing them out on the street. My friend along the road was selling her house a few years back, and a lovely home it was, but the daily grind of listening to people's moanings really got her down, she found it difficult listening to people running down the home she had spent years nurturing.
No, I just couldn't do it. They'd have to buy it based on a written description.
I'd never sell anyway, I love my home, I'm here for life :)
xx
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