Desperate to Blog
Help, we are broadband-less at the moment, until Tiscali deigns to connect us (10 working days! Truly, Dorothy, we are not in Hong Kong any more). In desperation I have had to bring our laptop into work so I can blog from the wireless floors (cannot blog from work desktop). If anyone is monitoring me, it's after working hours, ok?
We put in an offer on the house which was GBP20k below asking price and they immediately accepted it. Worrying. Either there is something wrong with the house, or we are paying far too much for it, or they are just like us (ie they were expecting to get GBP20k less than asking price, they just want to move with no hassle, and they like us and think we are straight-up people who will not jerk them around, which is exactly right).
Anyway, I'm excited! Spoke to the estate agent today to make sure everything was still hunky-dory. Yes, yes, he says, except, this isn't really a problem, but Wallpaper magazine might be featuring the front of the house in their December issue. Told LSS immediately, who I think principally likes the house for its gloating potential.
Walking at the weekend, I overtook a young couple with their 3-year old. As I passed the girl said in a loud piercing voice, "Oh, mummy, look at her shoes! They're beautiful!" And then topped it off with, "And look at her hairclip! It's beautiful!" I wanted to fall down on my knees and say, "Thank you! thank you, little girl!" I'm not too proud to take unsolicited praise from anyone.
On the other hand, yesterday on the Jubilee line from Canary Wharf to London Bridge, I was standing there minding my own business, when a young lad about Mo's age (and clearly as dysfunctional as Mo) bent down to look at my big toe (which is the one that I bruised the toenail on by running in too-tight running shoes). He bent closer and closer and closer, until he reached out and thoughtfully prodded the toenail. His (long-suffering) mother immediately clouted him over the head and berated him in an outraged undertone all the way to London Bridge.
We are back in our old flat in good old Balham Town. We have got all our stuff back from storage. The chap who came to deliver the boxes said to LSS, I remember you. I was the one who packed all your stuff up 8 years ago. My God! Either he has a phenomenal memory, or he doesn't work very much, or (as I suspect) we are quite strange.
We put in an offer on the house which was GBP20k below asking price and they immediately accepted it. Worrying. Either there is something wrong with the house, or we are paying far too much for it, or they are just like us (ie they were expecting to get GBP20k less than asking price, they just want to move with no hassle, and they like us and think we are straight-up people who will not jerk them around, which is exactly right).
Anyway, I'm excited! Spoke to the estate agent today to make sure everything was still hunky-dory. Yes, yes, he says, except, this isn't really a problem, but Wallpaper magazine might be featuring the front of the house in their December issue. Told LSS immediately, who I think principally likes the house for its gloating potential.
Walking at the weekend, I overtook a young couple with their 3-year old. As I passed the girl said in a loud piercing voice, "Oh, mummy, look at her shoes! They're beautiful!" And then topped it off with, "And look at her hairclip! It's beautiful!" I wanted to fall down on my knees and say, "Thank you! thank you, little girl!" I'm not too proud to take unsolicited praise from anyone.
On the other hand, yesterday on the Jubilee line from Canary Wharf to London Bridge, I was standing there minding my own business, when a young lad about Mo's age (and clearly as dysfunctional as Mo) bent down to look at my big toe (which is the one that I bruised the toenail on by running in too-tight running shoes). He bent closer and closer and closer, until he reached out and thoughtfully prodded the toenail. His (long-suffering) mother immediately clouted him over the head and berated him in an outraged undertone all the way to London Bridge.
We are back in our old flat in good old Balham Town. We have got all our stuff back from storage. The chap who came to deliver the boxes said to LSS, I remember you. I was the one who packed all your stuff up 8 years ago. My God! Either he has a phenomenal memory, or he doesn't work very much, or (as I suspect) we are quite strange.
posted by FBT at 7:45 pm
4 Comments:
It's good to know you aren't giving up blogging :-)
Someone told me a story before (not sure how true it is) - A house was on the market for a long time and nobody was interested. Then, the seller increased the price by a certain amount, and suddenly people wanted to buy it.
Based on what you said here, it seems that you and your family all love the place. That's a good sign.
Yay! Please do post pictures of the walled garden soon.
So what are you saying, Tiny, that the Phiz bought an overpriced unsellable house??
Photos? HA! I want an invite. Must be room enough for guests.
Phiz must have bought the house at a price that she thinks it worths. If it's a done deal, there is no point of worrying about it anymore. It's possible that the seller might actually be anxious to sell the house and close the deal so that he/she can buy another house or use the money to invest on something else. It doesn't necessarily mean there is something wrong with the house or the house was overpriced.
The most important thing is they all love the house and they will live comfortably in it.
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