There has been a resounding silence on the house-viewing front.
To keep myself from sinking into the Slough of Despond, to be beset by "many fears and doubts and discouraging apprehensions" relating to matters of sale, I've made a List.
You know how bracing to the spirits a List can be, especially if some of what is contains is actually achievable.
What isn't on the List:
Lose two stones by Christmas
Learn how to repair render on yard walls
Both essential, desirable and likely to prove life-enhancing, but not terribly likely to get done.
But what is Listed includes:
Clean light switches and sockets. It's one of life's small but surprising realities that no matter how clean you keep your hands, your light switches get grubby in an amazingly short time. Go on, have a look.
Glue control knob onto gas fire. Easier said than done. The first tube of superglue dried out while waiting to be used for this task; the second disappeared (predictably, after a visit from the Lovely Son, after which I can never find anything) and the latest lot has been put away in a safe place, i.e. the place that can never be brought to mind. For now, as for so many years, the pliers kept on the hearth for gas fire-turning-on-and-off purposes will remain there, to puzzle visitors and lend a certain something to the general decor.
Like dishes and dusting, some items remain to-do regulars:
Clean nose marks off windows This means both inside and out; the cats are very fond of this form of nose-dab graffiti: "Lottie woz here and nobody let her in..." Dab, dab, dab.
Check stairs for cat gifts This could be furballs from Lottie, regurgitated biscuits from a certain black and white greedyguts, or - thankfully less common now, a dead mouse from Millie. Hamish, his life spent chiefly under cover, leaves nothing untoward to betray his presence.
But, but, BUT! as well as a List of small jobs, I have also devised a winter project, to keep me engaged with my home as a nice place for me to live, not just a cause for worry about its saleability.
(Sounds of trumpet blast) I shall create that long-desired second bathroom, using the small attic, formerly the Room of Shame, then the boxroom/pretend workroom (remember the artfully-posed sewing machine?) and now the repository of all the still-packed boxes that didn't fit into the eaves. I'd obtained a quote from Richie, my lovely plumber/builder, on behalf of Dr D, and it set me thinking. Why not do it for me?
I've given myself till the beginning of October before taking action. If there has been no buyer interest by then, the boxes will be stored elsewhere, the large mahogany tallboy will be moved out, and a simple and pretty shower room will be created with painted floor, tongue-and-groove panelling, and - oh joy! - a second loo on the same floor as my bedroom. No more flights of stairs to negotiate in the small hours en route to the bathroom, risking unpleasant encounters with unseen cat gifts.
I'm collecting ideas.....
I do love a painted floor, and painted T & G too. I had hesitated to sacrifice a bedroom in this way before, but every viewer has asked if there was only one loo/bathroom, and I'm encouraged to go ahead. That should stop me from brooding obsessively about the housing market until next Spring. Richie the plumber and the Lovely Son are on standby for winter work. But of course, should an offer come my way before then, well, the winter project will transfer smoothly to my next house.
Right, I'm off to do some banishing: the Slough of Despond, the grubby marks on light switches, the nose marks. Your views and opinions welcome, as always.