I dying to get this show on the road, but I’m in a holding pattern, sitting on needles and pins waiting for my house to close. The appraisers were here this week and I have no trust that they knew what they’re doing. Standing in my kitchen, the woman said, “I see you have all new appliances” and my first thought was, Is this a test? If she’s serious do I risk telling her she’s clueless? I went with door number two. “No,” I said, “they’re original from when the house was built.” If she was testing my honesty I passed. If she was clueless on how to do her job, she covered it well by saying, “You’ve taken very good care of them.” The guy never made eye contract, didn’t say a word or cracked a smile and looked like either: 1) he’s an angry black man, mad at the world, or 2) he needed a healthy dose of prune juice and a long date with a toilet. Maybe he was disappointed that I was home---clearly they didn’t expect me to be here---and I spoiled his plans to take a dump while his partner walked through the house.
The next day I got a request from the people whose offer on my house I accepted. They are from out of state and wanted to know if I’d let them see it again before they go back home. My realtor said it would look bad if I refused, which I had no intentions of doing, but I did ask him what if they see something they don’t like and want to back out of the deal? What if they saw the appraisal and it was too low and they changed their mind? My realtor said with their $10,000 earnest check they are heavily invested in their decision and they won’t back out. I had a sale fall through at a closing when the so-called buyer didn’t show up. I am not going to feel good until this closing is over and the check has cleared the bank.
After accepting the offer I had googled the buyers, looked at Google Earth to check out the house they’re moving from and they are downsizing a lot to move into mine. Then I learned that the couple buying my house are 80 and 81 and I spent several days obsessing that they’re so old they could die before the closing. "Act of God," my realtor said, "we'd start over again if the happens." I stopped obsessing when I realized that I’m not far behind them in age and I could be the one who dies before the closing. Color me ten shades of embarrassed.
They came and spent close to an hour going through the house and taking measurements after I told them to take all the time they wanted and that I’d be on the deck, “Just let me know when you’re leaving so I won’t still be there at bedtime.” A nice couple. She walked with a cane and had the gait of someone who’d had a stroke and he had worked for Penguin Publishing and at one time they lived in Japan. My library will remain a library with the addition of a piano on one wall. My husband’s ghost will love that since, after his stroke, Don spent a couple of hours each day happily singing wordless operas at the top of his lungs. I should have asked this doctor to cut back on his anti-depressants. Ya, like a caregiver would trade 'too happy' for its opposite. I may have wished for a noise canceling headset but I wasn't crazy.
Also this week: The guy who made cushions for my wicker settee and the chair plus throw pillows delivered them yesterday. They ended up installing the top cushion on the chair because I don’t think they trusted me to do it. I was just going to order extra fabric and tack it in place myself. But I’m so glad the guys looked at me and the photos of the chair and treated me like a little old lady who probably would mess it up and insisted on picking up the chair so they could do it. I couldn’t be happier with the results. All the pieces look exactly like my mind’s eye envisioned. And dare I say I’m not delusional when I claim the settee is as comfortable any couch found in furniture stores these days.
God, it’s going to be Thanksgiving before everything comes together but I know the mid-century La-Z-Boy chair style and color chair I ordered is going to work well with what was just delivered. Anyone who has spent time around summer cottages knows they are filled with a hodgepodge of furniture styles from bygone eras. And that's what I'm going for, the look of a cottage, not a city dwelling. And nicknacks? I'll have so many it will make the dust fairies fart rainbows.
I also solved the problem of not having a coat closet off my main entry and my new laundry room 'hall tree' was delivered this week. It came in pieces, of course---what doesn't these days---so I unpacked it all to make sure it was all there and undamaged, then repacked it. I was impressed by their step-by-step directions with every part labeled and lots of extra screws. Most of the hall trees I was looking at had hooks instead of the bar for hangers but I liked this one because on laundry day I'll have a temporary place to hang what comes out of the dryer. It came from 'Tribesigns' if anyone is wondering and their delivery was really fast.
My next and last big purchase will be an area rug to tie all my furniture together. I’ve shopped area rugs online and locally until I’m in sensory overload. Patterns and color mixing oh crap! I'm sticking my fingers down my throat to vomit...that's how much I'm hating this last decision but I decided to let it go until after I move. That might be a decision I'll come to regret because both Lowe's and Wayfair say they only deliver to your mail room at apartment buildings. La-Z-Boy and the furniture store will deliver to my door but their shipping will take months instead of weeks. ©