Not bad for a fat girl


Chaos in My Corner of the World

The Replacement Bulb

The Replacement Bulb

Did you know that halogen lightbulbs for pools installed in 1996 are difficult to come by? They are. There is one of them available in the United States right now, and it is currently in Dallas, Texas. I, however,  am not currently in Dallas, Texas. It doesn’t matter though. I need that bulb. The bulb alone costs about $35.00, and then there’s the shipping cost. Of course if I want it in a hurry, it will cost more.

I have lived in this house for a little over two years and have never had a functioning pool light. Apparently I’ve been living on the edge, because this is a hazard, according to the inspection that was done on the house. It wasn’t a hazard back when my inspector looked at it, but now it is, and it’s up to me to remedy this situation so that my buyer doesn’t stub his toes in the dark when he goes night swimming. Having this responsibility makes me feel important, like I have a civic duty to keep my fellow human being safe from this apparently very real threat.

Why is it that when I’m the seller I have to bend over backward to change and fix everything, but when I’m the buyer I’m lucky if the air conditioning even works? The kicker is the house I’m selling is priced considerably less than the one I’m buying! Still, I’m really excited to say that I’m buying my next house. I found it last Friday, looked at it again on Sunday, and wrote an offer last night. This morning it was accepted. HOORAY! There are lots of good things about it, and a few things that are less great, but right now we’re not going there. Right now we’re trying to get out of THIS house. That means fixing a few things and packing a lot of things (well, everything actually) and doing lots of chores, like calling the utilities and setting up a forwarding address. What a pain.

I’m trying to remain calm and take things one step at a time. It’s tough, though, when all progress seems to grind to a halt over a single lightbulb (that I went to four stores to locate, then called two other places before, hopefully, finding it in Dallas). Hopefully the bulb issue will be resolved shortly, so that we can figure out why the new bathroom faucet is leaking. One step at a time. One step at a time.


A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Complacency

real_estate_graphic__sold_sign_1339735192689I was all set to “love it” since I already tried to “list it” and didn’t have any takers. I’m talking about my house, of course, and the premise of the HGTV series “Love It or List It.”

The idea is to challenge homeowners who are fed up with their homes and are ready for change. The show is filmed with couples, one who wants to stay and make changes, the other who wants to cut bait and move on. One host does a home remodel to try to fix the home’s issues while the other host takes the couple house hunting. After the reveal they have to decide whether they’ll “love it” and stay, or “list it” and move. I’ve seen it turn out both ways.

As I said, I was set to love it. I was ready to settle in and start picking out new tile to replace the original tile, which is starting to crack in places. I was set to decide on new carpet for the bedrooms, and I was ready to research granite counter top options. Moving just didn’t seem to be in the cards.

Then, out of the blue, it happened. I got an offer. A real offer. One that would allow me to make the move into the type of home I was after. One that was a little bigger. One that was a little closer to work. One that wouldn’t be across the street from a multi-family dwelling community. I accepted. Woo Hoo!

The house wasn’t even on the market anymore. I had taken it off three days prior. The couple buying it had seen in but just weren’t sure. By the time they made up their minds, I was already feeling like it wasn’t meant to be. Apparently I was wrong. Although I don’t want to jinx it. Let’s just wait until the ink is dry on all the mountains of paperwork before we celebrate too much. Still, I’m out of complacency mode and on to moving mode.

This should be an entirely new chapter of the seemingly endless saga of “sell this house.” I hope it’s a good one. Stay tuned to find out.


May Mantra – Sell This House

Good Morning Swiffer. Hello vacuum. How are you this beautiful Saturday, duster? I feel like these implements have become my dear friends. Friends that I would like to take a break from. It’s not that they aren’t helpful, it’s just that we’ve been seeing a little too much of each other lately.

As of today many people have walked through my house, deciding whether or not to make it their new home. So far they have all decided not to. There is someone, however, who is on the fence. Their realtor called to schedule a second look. They are narrowing down their options. Apparently their concern is not the construction project across the street (over which I have no control) but the small size of the yard (over which I have no control).71YXfpXt8vL._SL1500_

The realtor told me the client is downsizing. Perfect. A small yard with no upkeep should be just the ticket. There’s room in front for puttering if they want to put in more plants, and they can container garden like crazy in the back. I wonder if the flowers were there the first time they came through. They look great now. Maybe that will inspire them.

It’s too bad that my umbrella broke. One afternoon while we were at work the wind picked it up and smashed it against the wall. At least it didn’t leave a gouge. The umbrella provides some much-needed shade and a pop of color. My mother is adamant that I replace it immediately. Should I?

This is what I do. I obsess about things which may or may not make any difference at all. In a perfect world a person should scout out the neighborhood, then walk through a house, to get a sense of the floor plan and amount of space it offers. They should carefully observe what types of updates and repairs the property might need.  They should ignore things like current furnishing, wall colors, decor, and the like. They don’t. Most people see what they see, and if it looks pretty they’ll like it, but if it doesn’t they can’t see past it.

This accounts for my obsessing over the tiny details that I can control, since there are big things that I can’t control. So off I go, to Swiffer and vacuum and dust, and to replace my broken umbrella, so the tiny backyard looks like the desert oasis it is.