Snakes and ladders

Back to the start. The house goes back on the market tomorrow. My buyer has pulled out, because his 7-year job contract has changed, and the first 4 years will be in Middlesborough, not in Newcastle, and that isn't easily commutable.

Am I surprised? No. His silence and tardiness was becoming ominous, and I am a realist. It's a relief to know, instead of fearing the worst and I may sleep well tonight for the first time in a while.

Am I disappointed? Yes. I did so want that particular house and garden in Somerset, and feel badly for the tenants currently moving out of it to make way for a proposed buyer. The only consolation is that it prompted them to buy their next home rather than continue to be tenants, and they had found a house that they loved too.


Am I hopeful? Yes; this is a nice house, in good order, and someone will want it - one day. I will have to decide what to do with all the boxes (eaves, wardrobes, friends' garages!) because I am certainly not unpacking everything. A car-load of allotment plants are going to be fostered by a gardener friend tomorrow, as the back yard is stuffed to the gunwhales with lumps of root and stumps of fruit bushes in assorted buckets and bags - not attractive!

Am I furious? Yes. Young Dr. D didn't just find out today that his changed contract would mean he'd be in another Northern town entirely. He sat on that information, probably (says my furious inner voice) being a busy-busy important professional who didn't give much thought to the person whose house he had wanted so urgently, and who had put herself out to get ready to move at short notice. It was only after numerous phones calls from estate agents that he responded to the messages left for him. I'm very cross about that carelessness and the silence, as well as the amount of effort everyone had to put in to get him to make contact and admit that he was no longer my house buyer.

On a positive note, no one died, I still have my beloved house to live in, with lovely neighbours and supportive friends nearby, and I can try again to make that move up the ladder, hopefully without encountering any snakes. Back to keeping everything tidy and spotless, hiding one of the cat trays before viewings, and having to drone on about drains and roofs. I can do this.

I must try not to be a property-bore-blogger while I'm about it. There must be more in my life than this, surely.....

I know - cake. Chocolate. More cake. Chocolate cake. Stand by.