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No, not “Finally, I heard from some fabulous literary agent in New York and she said my work is fabulous and she really wants to read my full (and fabulous) manuscript.”

But yes, finally (finally!), we have sold our house on Edgehill. It is currently under contract, all papers having been officially signed today. (Donna, I wasn’t ignoring your question a week ago, but didn’t want to jinx myself.)

A huge relief, to say the least. The constant maintenance of two houses has been a bit much for us (I mean, for Mark). It’s been a long time coming, made especially obvious by last week’s one-year anniversary of our move to this house. We got a price that we’re happy with (although if you had named this particular price a year ago, we would have laughed in your faces, but, hey, it’s all relative).

So, now we just need to hold the official inspection and then move our remaining stuff (ie, junk) out of the garage and basement and hand over the keys.

Yahoo!

The latest updates on our potential (or not-so-potential) house buyers:

One couple has said they want to wait “a few months” before they make a decision. Yuck. And another said they still really love this house but the husband wants to make so low an offer, he’s afraid he’ll offend us. Make the offer already and let us decide how offensive it is!  Argh. We are having another Open House this weekend and my mom just met a couple in front of our house who had seen it online and were doing a “walk-by” to check it out. She almost invited them in which would have been postively disatrous (not exactly clean at this particular moment), but they’re planning to come this weekend.

Of course, I have yet to start packing because I want to keep everything looking nice, which is clearly my own delay tactic because see above. We’re still hoping to move before Christmas regardless of what happens with this house.

Speaking of delay tactics, the best of all come from Braedan. Each night as I walk out of his room, he calls, “Put on your brakes!” and proceeds to ask any number of irrelevant, out-of-the-blue questions. Last night, it was, “Mom, who invented words and how did they think them all up?”  Ha, right at bedtime!  Nice try, kiddo.

After weeks and weeks of organizing closets, washing windows, spreading much and repainting walls, we are finally on the market!

The sign went up on Saturday, the brokers’ Open House was yesterday (where the house won rave reviews) and the first official Open House is this Sunday. So, if you know anyone looking for a completely finished, move-in ready, brick center-hall colonial . . . Geez, I sound like a realtor!

So far, the process has been pretty painless (except for my arm which is rather sore from washing every single window on our first, second and third floors). The house looks fantastic which is great motivation for keeping it looking fantastic. It’s so true what they say about how your house never looks as good as it does when you’re trying to sell it. All those little imperfections that you live with and don’t even notice suddenly jump out at you, and then once you make whatever usually minor improvement was necessary and see how easy it was and how good it looks, you wonder how you’d lived with it so long in the first place.

Seeing the sign up in the yard was a little bittersweet. We have loved this house and have had lots of happy moments in our seven-and-a-half years here. I can only imagine what it’s like for the woman moving out of our new house, who’s lived there for forty-five years, raised her children living there, lost her husband living there . . . bittersweet probably doesn’t adequately describe her emotions about leaving. But we’ve met her and I hope she has a sense of the love and joy that is moving in there. Like I said before, we will pack it up and take it with us.

If it can fit in the truck!

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February 2020
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