Oh, yes, I am still sad at the thought of leaving this place one day in the not too distant future, but I am trying to think of all the positives about moving. Firstly - and most importantly - is the fact that we will be nearer to our daughter, son-in-law and two grandsons. That must be a big plus. To be able to see them without a four days' journey will be wonderful! Also, the weather: This last winter in Victoria was such a cold one and seemed so long, that to experience a warmer climate will be great. And, last, but not least, it is true that in one's life one has to do different things when one has the chance. And to move to a different state is a positive thing to do and an exciting thing to do...and, as a friend once said to me many years ago, "You can't be married to your house". So true. So, I will start searching in earnest on the Internet for the perfect house in Queensland...one that we can afford.
Eeeeeeeek! I think we might have a buyer for our house! The man who was coming “after lunch” rang just before 11am, to ask for directions to our place. He was about 200 metres down the road! (you should have seen me run!). He loves the house - & the garden - & has taken lots of info with him to tell and show his partner and will “get in touch” with us next week to discuss buying it!
Eeek! Now I feel sick!
We have wanted to sell our house for so long, but it has always been a "one day we will sell the house and go and live in Queensland" thing. Now it could really happen and I am so sad at the thought of leavig this beautiful home of ours. Oh, dear. What a confused person I am.
Saturday morning. House almost ready for inspection by prospective buyer. I am now feeling quite sick! What am I doing? This house has been our much loved home for 30 years. We built it; we planted every tree and flower in the grounds. We love the birds who come and vist - king parrots even eat out of our hands. The house itself is perfect for our life-style. What am I thinking?
Oh, yes, we want to live near our daughter and her family - and we want to find a warmer climate.
I'll keep you posted.
I have been out all day, but have returned in time to spray a little furniture polish around one last time. Yesterday my husband mowed all the grass. Not only all of our one acre of grass, but also the grass outside our fence (the "verge" or "nature strip", whatever people like to call it). He also mowed the grass outside our neighbour's house, up to the corner and around the corner. Then mowed the grass on the other side of the road.
The shame of it all is that the beautiful sunny weather we have been experiencing has disappeared and it has been raining all day. The gravel driveway is awash and all the spring flowers are looking a bit droopy.
Never mind, the garden is at least looking clean and bright, even if a little rain affected.
Tomorrow I will vacuum the living room floor and put the steam cleaning mop over the tiles. What else?
Just hope the "inspecting person" actually comes.
It's nearly Friday and the house inspection is taking place on Saturday. Trying not to be too hopeful, but I have cleaned the house, including the space between the fridge and the wall, where the little green oblong container sits waiting to take the recyclables.
I have ironed the bedlinen (as instructed) but have set it aside, ready to be put on the bed on Saturday morning. My husband thinks I am insane, especially, as he points out, it is a man who is coming to see the house; a man who will not notice these things. Buty, I explain to him, it's all the little things that come together to make a house look like a home - and a home just waiting to be bought by the woman whose partner is coming on Saturday.
Tomorrow morning I will pick a bunch of flowers to put on the table in the dining room.
Then I am going out to lunch.
Have still not returned the call from the estate agent. (I don't expect I ever will).
I have the washing machine chugging away wih the best quilt cover and pillowslips having a good wash before I iron them (I read, in an article about getting your house ready to show to potential buyers, that you must "iron the bedlinen"). I will polish and dust the furniture later and I have a note on the kitchen bench to remind me to pick some fresh flowers tomorrow to place in a vase in the formal living room.
The dog has been bathed to ensure she leaves no "doggy smell" evidence in the house and I have cleaned the pond.
It is still two days before the person is due to come to see our home, but I am going out for the day tomorrow and want to have as much in readiness before "Inspection Saturday".
All I will (should) have to do in the morning of the visit is vacuum the floor and wash the tiled area as well as plump up some cushions and spray a little room deodoriser around.
And now for some more personal news: I am trying to sell my house. Or, more accurately, WE are trying to sell OUR house, there being two of us; my husband and me.
We first put it 'on the market' in June of 2011. Within 3 days we thought we had a buyer. She (the potential buyer) assured the Real Estate agent that she had a buyer for her house and was anxious to move into the town where we lived. She inspected our property at length, then brought along a builder to 'check it out'. Next came a plumber and then her best friend. Everyone "loved it" and we (and the R.E.agent) felt that we had made a quick and successful sale.
Off we went to Queensland to look at a house that we had discovered on the Internet. While we were inspecting this house and almost ready to commit to buying it, we phoned our agent to check that all was going ahead with the sale of our house as planned. Unfortunately the sale of the potential buyer's property had "fallen through" and the deal was off.
Over a year, and several more (fruitless) "inspections" and another R.E.agent later, we took the house out of the agent's hands and put it up for sale by ourselves, thinking that, with no commission to have to pay to an agent, we would be better off and, as it seemd there were no potential buyers in the offing, we may as well just play the waiting game on our own.
Two days after we relieved the agent of our property, he phoned to say he had someone wishing to inspect our home.
What to do?
This person came and inspected the property on behalf of his mother, who lives two states away. He liked our house, took videos to send to his mother and then we had the mother's partner on the phone asking if he could come and see our place.
He is due to arrive in 3 days' time. We are trying not to be too hopeful, but have found ourselves contemplating properties in Queensland, from details on the Internet.
We have not replied to the agent's phone message. Is that OK?
Am I being rude or precious by taking photos of misspelled words on signs or misappropriated apostrophes? And does it really matter how things are spelt, as long as the meaning is (vaguely) understood.
But, hey, what does 'attected' mean?
It was bad enough that these people spelt Benedict like this, but to also put an apostrophe in 'eggs' is unforgiveable.
Being somewhat obsessed with the proper use of punctuation, I am often to be found taking photos of bad examples (of punctuation) or to be heard bemoaning the fact that some people don't know how to use it correctly. So, I was very pleased to find a copy of "Eats, Shoots & Leaves" in a charity shop. Of course, I bought the book and spent the next few hours reading it and delighting in the fact that I had found another human being who felt as I did about punctuation. (And, yes, I know that I may not be perfect in the administration of all and every punctuation mark).
Just a reminder of how the book came to be titled that way: The story goes: A panda walks into a cafe. He orders a sandwich, eats it, then draws a gun and fires two shots in the air.
"Why?" asks the confused waiter, as the panda makes towards the exit. The panda produces a badly punctuated wild-life manual and tosses it over his shoulder.
"I'm a panda," he says, at the door, "Look it up."
The waiter turns to the relevant entry and, sure enough, finds an explanation.
"Panda. Large black-and-white bear-like mammal, native to China. Eats, shoots and leaves."
Read a book recently (about times long gone) where the author wrote about his childhood activity of cutting into golf balls and finding a sac of pink rubbery liquid in the centre of the ball. I, too, remember doing that. But I remember that we did it to try and find the little extra-bouncy rubber ball that was often the centre-piece of the surgically sliced and rubber-strip-unwound golf ball.
Are golf balls still like this? I distinctly recall the disappointment we felt when there was no little ball of "super" rubber in the centre, but the annoying little sac of pink gooey liquid.
We once sawed into a golf ball with the family's bone-handled bread knife, which ended up with a pink stain on the bone handle that remained forever. At least the pink stain on the ceiling could be (eventually) painted over. Yes, the innards of that particular golf ball exploded rather dramatically.
How tempting it is for me to operate on the next golf ball I find...just to see if that pink liquid is still used or if there is a small rubber ball (the origin of the 'super-ball' of the 1980s, I suspect) hidden inside.
My beautiful house is for sale. Check it out at www.realestate.com.au/property-house-vic-briagolong-111591971
Tomorrow someone is coming to "inspect" it, but I suspect that visit will not end in a sale. Just another person having a 'sticky-beak' look, without the means to actually buy. We shall see!
Funny thing, selling a house; it can be a very personal experience. One can easily be offended if an inspecting person does not like the home that you think is lovely. Rude, almost!
I really wasn't sure if I should enter this toilet block. Did it mean for women or for "women"? And who really are the "women"?
Would there be another place, other than outback Queeensland where you might see a sign such as this? And it's true. Frogs do love the wet security of a nice toilet!
(But they can give one quite a start!...so to speak).
Back after holidays. On my travels there were a few signs that I couldn't resist photographing. This one came from a holiday caravan park that had a question mark after every statement. Not sure what it was supposed to indicate (?).
"Please don't use TALCUM POWDERS in amenities?"
I choose to comment on social issues and write creatively on a variety of subjects - for a variety of audiences.