Our agents doing a great job exposing our house. 15 or so people have been through our house since Tuesday and they held two busy open houses this weekend. We’ve been pushing the sensory details to try to make an impression on people: a cozy fire burning, music, fresh flowers, coffee on, cinnamon and brown sugar in the oven. Hopefully, we’ll find out in the early part of the coming week if it worked.
We’re still okay with all the showings even though we’ve had to move our dog out and we’ve only been able to eat one meal in our own home this whole week. We were out more than we were in this weekend which was strange for homebodies like us but we managed. If this carries on more than a few weeks though, I can imagine we’ll want to put some restrictions on the time of day the house can be shown. But we’re okay for now.
Today we went house-hunting. We saw six properties. It was less tiring than last weekend, in part because we knew when to cut our losses. If we saw a deal-breaker like a really screwy kitchen, or a crumbling foundation (or a weird guy sleeping in a basement) we just got the hell out of there. No trying to find the beauty in something we hated, no further exploring.
We can’t seem to get the first house we saw this morning out of our head. We were supposed to see it last weekend but the vendor’s agent had given our agent the wrong lock box combination. The object of our affection is a grand old Victorian, currently duplexed. A bit of a project to convert it back to a single family dwelling but a beautiful attic space and hints of the original woodwork hidden under layers of paint seem to make it worthwhile. Enough to do a check into the schools and crime rate statistics and the zoning by-law that covers the creation of front pad parking. Worthwhile enough for both of us to get our father’s opinion about it.