I don’t know about you, but as a writer, the initial quarantine during the corona virus was no sweat. My husband and I just continued our lives as usual – I have my writing and he works in the yard. We managed to see my daughter and her family occasionally because they also quarantined, working from home. We were virus-less.
We had decided very early this year that it was time to sell our beloved home. It is too expensive for us on retirees’ salaries and we rattle around in it with the kids gone. Covid arrived in March, but we decided to plow ahead, especially since we had found another house that suited us well.
Thus toward the end of the second month, we started shoveling 35 years of accumulated ‘stuff’ from our house. I lost 12 pounds of winter fat winnowing every drawer, cabinet and closet to near emptiness. The local landfill may have to be named for us, because there is nowhere open to donate, not even libraries.
We had an inspector come to let us know of any problems and got back a 67 page report. Most of it was photos, but the suggested changes cost thousands of dollars, with men possibly carrying those nasty little virus particles coming in and out of the house. We instituted rules: masks, gloves and keep you distance and we survived. Whew!
Then the house went on the market, and now we have what I like to call fire drills several times a week: we run around like chickens with their heads cut off (now that’s a visual!) making sure the house is dusted and vacuumed and wiped down and all personal things are cleared away from the counters (into those previously empty drawers) before each showing. My poor cat thinks his food bowl lives in a cabinet (it does). We did have to leave his litter box out, though, to avoid accidents while we are away, but we load it with new litter each time for that nice, fresh smell. I’ve noticed he spends more time digging in it…
Our generally optimistic natures and confidence that the house was perfect
took some hits when the comments from the showings came rolling in, all to them sure to drive a stake into a seller’s hearts:
The windows are old and leak. They’re old but they don’t leak. There’s no glass.
The upstairs floors creak and are uneven. They’re dirt but we ran around with marbles anyway trying to figure out where they were uneven. You’d think the inspector would have caught that.
The floor plan is awkward. Whatever floats your boat. It’s only one room.
And the best one of all: UPGRADES NEEDED THROUGHOUT.
We’ve been upgrading the house for 35 years – baths and kitchen remodeled, the interior painted, a new roof and a new HVC system installed, windows sealed. I’m thinking a huge, walk-in closet…..so we lowered the price.
Last night, after the latest ‘Upgrades…,” I hit a wine bottle and went to bed at 9:30.
I miss my friends, I miss eating out, and if it weren’t for a frequent infusion of cuteness from my grandson, I’d be drinking whisky for breakfast and wouldn’t bathe. Or brush my teeth. Or comb my hair. Just don’t mention any upgrades.