Tuesday, 31 May 2011
Sigh. Fidget. Shuffle. Sigh again. Roll eyes. Mutter. Find something useful to do. Sigh some more. It's waiting time.
For a fairly patient person, I am coming to loathe waiting; after last year's fiasco, it winds me up to an intense state of nerves, in which I become the ultimate prophet of doom.
Buying a house (and, believe me, I'm dying to show you which house!) has its own arbitrary timescales, I know, and one is at the mercy of so many other people that it calls for a long loud scream every now and again so as to avoid bursting.
My Vendor the Upsizer, in reality a very pleasant young woman, was told after her second viewing of a desirable property (on the market a while, owners desperate to move away) that... er... there may not be water in July and August unless it rains copiously, and soon. But never fear, the owners of the property are having a test bore hole dug next month.... And then any water found will have to be tested....
In the meantime, sensible Vendor the Upsizer and her partner are looking elsewhere.
And we wait.
Posted by rachel at 15:12