Life in the Slow Lane continues apace. A bruising pace, that is…the operative word is bruising. Let me explain. As the title suggests, I was looking at houses when I happened to take a nose dive into one of them. More specifically, into a sort of garage/shed building. I have to protest right here that it wasn’t entirely my fault. There were these two eye-things–to attach padlocks to, I think–protruding about 2 inches from the ground in the middle of the doorway. They were in the shade and not at all noticeable. I didn’t notice them, anyway. To say I landed hard would be an understatement. The mild quake my landing generated produced a small tsunami on some nearby islands. I think they’re called Indonesia.
Anyway, I am here to tell the tale, so I obviously survived the day. But only just. The house, BTW, did not make the shortlist. (No prejudice attached.) My compatriots–including my son, Adam, my agent, Kelly, and the vendors’ agent, Fuckwit– were not willing to let me look at any more properties that day. But the next day promised to be a good one, with the house I was most keen to see first on the list. Except that a rather bad–and sleepless–night convinced me that I had broken my arm and possibly a rib or two. The following morning started out with me checking out the real estate at the Latrobe Hospital. Several hours later it was determined that, yes, I did have a wee break in my elbow (but nothing to write home about), and no, there were no broken ribs. Just a lot (!) of bruising. And a face that looks like chopped liver. I’m going out shortly to buy some blue (or purple–not sure yet) nail polish to paint my toenails to match my knee. Otherwise, all’s well.
Now, back to the main story–my quest for a new house. The one I was most keen to see turned out to be a real winner. You may recall that on my previous outing to the northwest I made an offer on a house that I had deemed was my True Dream House. Well, that offer has languished, with no further development until last week, when the vendors dropped their price to only $5000 above my offer. But then–wait for it– I withdrew my offer!
Yes! I have now made an offer on another house! My initial offer on this one was a mere $52,000 below their asking price, so it wasn’t surprising that they came back with a counter offer, dropping their price by $17,000. I then raised my bid by $10,000. Now we are a paltry $25,000 apart. Plus, they are not too enamored with the “subject to the sale of…” part of my offer. I don’t fancy my chances at this point, but who knows? (I’ve never been any good at poker, either…)
I have learned a few things along the way. For example, remember the old saw about “buy the worst house on the best street”? — well, I fell in love with a house that is perfect in every way except that it is the “best house on the worst street.” Truly. The location was appalling, but the house is wonderful. I didn’t even come close to making an offer, much as I adored it. I would pat myself on the back except I have a very sore arm.
I’m hoping the next chapter of this saga is going to be about negotiating the sale of my house! So far not much has happened in that department. After a flurry of activity the first week, no one has come for a peek the past two weeks. Very disappointing. This isn’t all that much fun after all… MM