Another day, another opportunity…

Saturday 3 January 2015

-1  my phone thinks it is 8 degrees

Down town for 10.15 to meet other agent and give him the keys.  His car is sporting quite a lot of packing tape over the damaged window.  I don’t know why because he took it to his dealer right away so why didn’t he just leave it there and get them to fix it?  I tend to leave mine with the local dealer in town who is always happy to loan me a car, free, for the period.  This sounds good until you realise that the cars available are older than my children and not everything on them works.  Things like the handbrake or the windscreen wipers, or once when I had absolutely to go to take someone to the airport, the indicators.  Hand signals have obviously not been seen for a very long time around here – I had a selection of responses from other drivers; from surprised waving back (thinking who on earth is that woman – she knows me so I had better respond) to rather violent gesticulations of more basic nature.

I take him to see the alternative property, both as a comparator for the house his people come to see, and in case his people don’t like the the other house.  The owner is in her PJs and says that we should feel free to treat the house as our own.  We have a look around and the other agent does a lot more talking about things other than this house and these clients.  I hope he pays more attention when he is actually with his buyers.  

We finish, I hand over the keys, which he had omitted to ask me for, and I go for cup of coffee and cake.  The real benefit of all the renovation work and cleaning I have done this year is that my arms and stomach are as firm as a young girl’s and I can enjoy some sweet stuff when the urge arises.  Spend a very pleasant half hour reading through the home decoration magazines (the owner is obviously has a really keen interest) and FB messaging people.

Have the urge to drive around and look for any For Sale signs – find a house in good condition and in a good spot.  Appears to be uninhabited.  Take down name and address.  Not in Yellow Pages so must have moved away – need to write to them and hope there is a redirect in place.  Other agent rings and says visit has gone extremely well (only 45 minutes though…) so go back down and collect keys.  We will have more news on Tuesday of next week.  Ring the owners who are very sad that my bastard clients have backed out but cheered to hear that there has been a positive visit today. 

OH rings to say that the dog has been in a fight with a husky and that his ear has been slashed.  He says he has washed it and stuck it together with a plaster.

Back home for lunch and traditional Saturday scraping dirt off the kitchen.  Hoover and wash floors.  Inform OH that we will be having visit on our main home in just two weeks and am surprised at how well he takes the news, until I realise he is asleep.  Poke him and tell him to move his butt.  He takes dog for walk, I tackle ironing mountain.  Give dog paracetamol in a piece of Christmas cake.  He is not looking too worse for wear and insists on throwing his new squishy ball with me for an hour whilst I am trying to clean.

Balsamic roasted potatoes and vegetables with duck.  Yum.  Watch first half of Wallander ‘Dogs of Riga’.  I love Swedish noir and Henning Mankell is a wonderful writer.  


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