We have Exchanged!!!

Dad is leppin' around like a lunatic and possibly drinking that wine a bit quick. The reason for this celebration is that the legal beagles have finally trudged through the minefield of questions, searches and investigations and declared that Mum and Dad are actually legally allowed to sell this house to the buyers. They have now officially (as at ten to four) EXCHANGED so that the sale is now legally binding on both sides.

Dad heard this while up to his oxters in grey zinc chromate paint painting the insides of the 2CV rims down at 2CV Llew's workshop. 2CV wheel rims, like many others are made of 2 pressings welded together and the integrity of the weld determines the air-tight-ness of the wheel/tyre. When they get old (and Clara Bow is a 1986 car) the rust can get into the weld and blow the two pressings apart. The rusty area can leak air or, worse still, split in two, which is nothing you want to happen even at 2CV speeds. So the wise and careful periodically whip the wheels off, lay them inside up and have at them with scrapers, whizzy wire brushes on power-drills and gloopy grey zinc paint.

Unfortunately, if Estate agents pick this moment to phone asking whether it's OK to "exchange contracts" there's not a lot you can do in a hurry. We have the UK-to-Ireland removal firm Dempsey's on hold but with no fixed date and we also need Jezz-the-Windows to pull out the main glazed panel of the bay window out front in order to evict the big leather sofa. Dad had to quickly finish the car job and round us up (we like a nice charge about in 2CV Llew's work area) before racing home to grab the phone numbers for removal guys and Jezz, get all the dates approved and then call back the legal beagles and Estate agents. As an added complication, our buyer would like to move some of her stuff in before, potentially, we can move out, which could make for a crowded house (isn't that a band?)

Anyway, it all got done. Phone calls flew back and forth, questions asked and answered, dates settled and then at ten to four came the announcement that we had exchanged. We could then fire off emails to the Irish side of the equation to start the ball rolling over there and we are confident enough of our footing to publish these two pictures of the target house. It's a 3 bedroom, 2 storey place in the middle of 2.454 acres of cattle grazing fields (at present) quite near to the Co. Roscommon agricultural market town of Ballaghadereen and to the bigger town of Castlerea (Castlerea, Co Roscommon, not Castlereagh near Belfast).

It's been an exhausting day

Deefs

Read the Small Print

Now then. Tell me have you ever seen such a big proud 'SOLD' sign outside a house. And then tell me have you ever seen such a tiny "Subject to Contact" disclaimer in the bottom right hand corner (marked with blue circle). An Estate Agent being unscrupulous? Who ever heard of such a thing?

I have to say, though, that it works really well, this attempt to fool people into thinking the firm has acheived all these impressive sales. The number of people who have come up to us on dog walks and said "See you sold the house then!" is dozens. The number who spotted the tiny "STC" initials bottom right and knew what they meant? That'll be zero.

Ah well, we hope they are right, and that this weight of positive thinking bulldozers the sale through. We will have no issues what so ever when the estate agent is finally able to swap the SOLD STC for a real "SOLD, No really!" one.

Meanwhile, Dad does 4 garden assessments this morning for the Kent Gardening for Wildlife Awards Scheme in the warm sunshine and a bit of breeze, but by 5 o'clock, when Mum comes home she's firing up the central heating and putting on an extra jumper. Pud Lady phones to remind us that she's off on her hols next week.

Life goes on

Deefs

...and the horse you rode in on!

While Dad's off painting barge again today, Mum 'entertains' yet more house viewers sent to us by the Estate Agent. We are getting quite seasoned at this now and even though we are very keen to sell the house it would hurt to have to sell it to some of the types who are posted our way. We are getting quite discerning and, mentally appraising them even as they appraise our house to see whether we would actually want to sell to them and land our lovely neighbours both sides with a horrible person or family next door.

Mum thinks she may have reached the peak of this today as a mother and daughter combo picth up who are so snooty and sneering ("Oh look! It's like a scaled down version of our house in Whitstable!" or "Our kitchen table might not quite fit in here") that she wonders why they are deigning to look round at all.

Being a well bred lay-deeee and an ever-patient 'vendor' Mum holds her tongue while mentally shredding the old cow. Dad thinks he may have felt the urge to usher them rapidly off the premises (but of course, would have done no such thing). Both wish they had the option as do possible buyers, of 'feedback' via the Estate Agent (not really what we were looking for / too small / garden not child-friendly etc). Today's may well have been "Well **** you and the horse you rode in on!

Why are such horrid people allowed out in this town?

Deefs

What Lies Beneath

We come under attack from those cruel and heartless Silverwoods, who suggest that our cleaning and preparations for the professional photographer from the Estate Agent might be only skin deep; superficial and not constituting genuine de-cluttering and improvements on da house. Out of a sense of open-ness and honesty, we therefore publish some pics of where the junk all went for you to judge for yourself, to whit, "under the stairs", "the big bad bookshelf" and "the walk in wardrobe". Wanna buy this house? Immaculate and well cared for?

Meanwhile, Dad has lost his heart to a Galway Hooker and spent tonight climbing all over her, stroking her and getting inside. Is this Ok on a family blog? All will be revealed tomorrow.

Deefs

It never rains

Five comments on one blog-post? It's a positive blizzard by recent standards. You all seem to have taken our house sale and potential move to heart. In fact the day didn't go quite according to plan despite Mum's (self confessed OCD) stage managing and preparatory cleaning, polishing and de-cluttering. The professional photographer turned out to be one and the same person who had contacted Dad last week announcing himself as the 'energy efficiency assessor' to postpone to the afternoon, so Mum's lens man never showed.

Mum contacted him and left him copious instructions as to how to set scenes and what to include and what not to include (bare light bulbs, dodgy bits of undecoration etc) and the guy seems to have moved lots of stuff about while they were out, but Mum and Dad are anxiously waiting to see what ends up on the website.

It never rains
Deefs

Professional Photographer

With the professional photographer from the Estate Agent due tomorrow and Mum critically appraising some of the pictures already up on their website ("Some of them haven't even made the beds!") this weekend has seen a mad flurry of de-cluttering and 'stage managing' the rooms likely to be depicted. Our normal style in this house is to live among a clutter of "stuff" - newspapers put down over there, too many coats hanging on the coat rack, work-diaries, security pass card on lanyard and pens on the mantle piece, book shelves over-stuffed with books we'll never refer to again wedged in all ways, empty fruit bowls, shoes in the hearth and so on.

You should see it now! The shelves are stripped of all but a few token books. The theory is that because most people these days are not bookie, a room that shouts 'Books!' too loud gives them a bad (non-buying) vibe; likewise a clutter of doggie stuff or children's toys. You need, we are told, to gently suggest 'family' or 'clever and educated' or 'fit and healthy' or 'good food' but in a way where the potential buyer's subconscious can edit it out and move on to noticing things they could do with the place.

So, books are being purged (bagged and boxed and lugged upstairs pending a formal "what's in Erroll and what's out" sort out), mantle shelves stripped, glasses, crocks and cutlery being rendered 'out of shot', dog-stuff (gasp) being written out of history and everything else seriously "audited". The fire hearth and grate are back up from the shed but all tools are down there.

Cleaning, hoovering, polishing are the order of the day and even weeds and plants which have dared lean across the garden paths are being judiciously controlled. Mum has even taken a few test-photos (see above) which have been scrutinised like our Reconnaissance Officers did with aerial photos of enemy V2 sites in the war (OK, slight exaggeration there, she didn't actually get the light-table and high-definition magnifier out!).

Mum has an ongoing running joke with her Irish chums on the interweb about what bits of lifestyle are "Cafflick" and which bits "Proddingstant".We are definitely on the Proddingstant end of the spectrum right now. Wish us luck tomorrow.

Deefs