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Tag Archives: Sell This House


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Pulling the Plug

nfs_lg-300x178Enough already. I tried. I really did. I cleaned, I feng shui-ed, I put in flowers, I made attractive flyers, I staged, I did it all. I’m done. I’m throwing in the towel. This house is NOT for sale. The May mantra is no longer “sell this house.” Now it has become “love this home.”

I wanted to sell. I wanted to make the change for several reasons, but never because I didn’t like my house or neighborhood. I like both, I can afford my home, and I’m staying.

My timing was off. Selling during construction season is to be avoided at all costs, believe me. The further along the construction progresses, the scarier it is to potential buyers. Nobody is biting, and prices in my area, and others, are dropping.

At this point, the type of home I would be able to afford wouldn’t make the move worthwhile. I’d rather stay here and make some changes. After all, I do have some equity in the house, and some ideas about what I’d like to do here.

Now that I’ve made this decision, I feel like a weight has been lifted. I won’t constantly check my phone, afraid that I’ve missed a call from some realtor who wants to set up a showing. I won’t run around every morning like a chicken with its head cut off making sure that every little thing is exactly perfect. I won’t wonder who might be in my home. I feel better already.

Tomorrow the sign comes out of the yard, and I start to relax in my own home again. I can honestly say, I’m looking forward to it.


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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.


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My Home, My Showcase

My house went on the market on February 21. Today is May 8. It feels like eternity. It isn’t of course, but the amount of extra stuff that we have to do to make it look like a showroom is getting to be a drag. Actually it was a drag from the beginning, since I really don’t like housework.

Maybe it stems back to my first regular paying job outside of babysitting. I cleaned house for a neighbor around the corner, whose son happened to be in my class. I went over every Monday after school for the duration of my junior and senior  years and cleaned. Each week I thoroughly cleaned  the bathrooms, then alternated between cleaning the upstairs and downstairs. Every once in a while my neighbor would have me work in the basement rec room instead.

It may have been the easiest cleaning job ever, since I’m positive the woman I worked for cleaned before I got there. Still, I did everything I was supposed to do. After she was gracious about me ruining her bath mat on my very first day (needless to say I learned how to properly handle bleach after that), I knew that I owed her nothing less than my best effort.That house was immaculate. Mine is not.

When you clean a house thoroughly you get to know it intimately. You know where the tile is uneven, where the paint is scuffed, and where the chrome on the edge of the medicine cabinet is discolored. In the two years I’ve lived here, I’ve gotten to know this house pretty well, mostly over the past two months.

In an effort to combat the construction across the street, I’ve done my best to “stage” my house and yard. I want people to imagine themselves living here. I want them to picture themselves sitting by the pool enjoying a margarita, or baking a pie in the kitchen. I want it to feel like home.

I’m not sure I’ve accomplished my goal or not, but I do like my little touches. I just wish I didn’t feel like I need them anymore.