I’ve just returned from viewing yet another unsuitable house and I feel my heart is hovering somewhere around my boots. I can feel a weariness engulfing me as I consider the possibility of never again walking into a home where I will immediately feel the need to move in tomorrow.
At today’s house I made excuses for the clutter, let’s be fair not everybody is tidy. But hard as I tried I couldn’t overlook the numerous and large damp patches, nor the pool with its rather uninviting shade of green water, not even the peeling paint on the garage gate. But returning to the damp problem, as the agent whisked me past the worst of it, she smiled sweetly over her shoulder and assured me it wasn’t there the last time she’d been in the house. I swear her nose grew 2 inches the moment her brain registered that little beauty. Did she really think I had gullible etched on my brow.
To be fair, I’ve seen 2 prospective homes, both new, beautiful gardens, great security and in the part of suburbia I know I’d fit in perfectly. Problem is one of them was 11 million and the other 5.
Mmmm, think I’ll be out house hunting this Sunday then. Failing that, staying put and taking the For Sale sign down…