We’ve been trying to sell since last June. It’s been so long that we had passed the superstitious stage and gone right into despair. When the offer came in, I didn’t actually believe it. I thought we’d die here.
There is one problem though. Our buyers didn’t just want the house, they wanted it pronto. The closing date is May 15. As in three weeks.
In less than 24 hours we went from joy to total panic. Where were we going to live? How does one find a house to move into in less than 21 days?
But do not worry, gentle reader, we did find a house. As luck would have it, the place was empty and worked with our insane schedule. It needs grass, a fence and a few other things before we move in but it’s surrounded by trees and is next to a lake, so we’re delighted.
Now, instead of worrying about selling our house, we can move on to worrying about selling extra things, packing and changing everything from one address to another.
Our house hasn’t sold yet but, ever the optimist, I’m still trying to declutter. That was what led me to this strange find.
That thing has been hanging in our front entrance closet since we moved in. I’ve never really given it much thought. In fact, I don’t even think I noticed it…until I started clearing the coats. Then I picked it up and thought, what on earth are you?
See that small knob thing on the side? It’s a handle. That thing is a box. And it opens. So I opened it.
The red thing inside the box is a teeny, tiny binder. As in, binder with papers. So I opened that too.
It was written in 1968 and that freaked me out. I felt like Indiana Jones as I read the entries. It’s written by the previous owner (and only owner of the house) as they readied the land to make the house and started building. It ends some time in the 1980’s as they finished the last touches on the house and warns that the box should always be kept inside the house.
I was pretty thrilled to have found this historic thing inside our entrance closet. Not that it’s old enough to be of interest to any historian or anything but there’s something mystical about finding a message from the previous owners of one’s house. Specially a message with a warning. *Cue spooky music*
We’ve cleaned the house from rafters to foundation. Our tiled floors have been swept, then moped and then dried to avoid any streaks. We sanded, then painted our deck until it gleamed like new. We trimmed, puffed and pruned our bushes and shrubs until they looked their best. Any and all inside plants that looked sickly were trimmed if semi-healthy, or watered if alive. We’ve added newly potted plants with flowers to our living area and deck. We even bought fancy-looking hand towels for the bathroom.
Honestly, I think Martha Stewart would be proud.
But no one came to see our house.
Part of the issue was our realtor somehow put the wrong information online and our house appears listed some 100 Km from where we actually live, in the middle of nowhere. Part of the issue is that it’s the middle of the weekend and people are busy. Part of the reason is that the realtor was supposed to call my hubby for showings and, since he’s technologically challenged, he forgot to charge his phone and the thing is dead.
Still, when we heard the dogs freaking out at the door, we were delighted. A showing! Someone had finally come to see our house! We ran to the door…