Well, we did the plan, I met the real estate agent (henceforth known as M) on Monday and looked at houses and chose three and went back with DrBob on Wednesday to look at those three plus one more that M hadn’t been able to get an appointment for on Monday, and…
Weird smell. Poor resale value. Not enough rooms. Not enough rooms.
I dunno, this is a huge commitment, and maybe we’re spoiled because the first time we bought a house we found this one by pure serendipity. It’s not perfect, but its imperfections are the sort we can live with: none of the above (dude, we have SO many rooms. Want one?).
So, um. We didn’t find a house. Which makes it kind of time to panic.
We batted a few ideas around – I pondered waiting another year, but then I remembered the Sniglet and his school problems. We really, ree-hee-hee-heeally don’t want to move twice, but now we’re thinking about renting until we find something. DrBob will go back to Utrecht in ten days, maybe by then something will turn up…? Even though it hasn’t so far…? Augh.
Y’all know how much I love not knowing what’s going to happen next.
Well, next-next, actually, is the flea-market, which is what Germans do instead of garage sales. You transport the stuff to an approved area on a set date and then sit there and wait for people to take it off your hands. We have a lot of stuff to get rid of, because we’re moving (maybe – AAAUUUGGH!), and the next official flea market is tomorrow, so today I’m hauling stuff out and cleaning it up, and tomorrow I’m sitting at a table for ten hours, getting a 3rd-degree sunburn (unless it rains, which would be both sucky and typical) and thinking of reasons to hate bargain-hunting villagers. Sounds like fun!
Song du jour of the day: Miracle, by Culture Club.