Don't Look Under the Bed

The house isn’t officially on the market yet, but we have two showings scheduled for tomorrow morning. Crunch time. We’ve been cleaning and cleaning and cleaning and … we’re about ready to collapse. Time to compromise. So…

To prospective buyers:

Be prepared to be amazed.

We took out most of the furniture so you can see the house better. It’s all in the garage, but you don’t really need to see the garage. Just imagine that instead of boxes and furniture, your cars are parked there. The bathrooms are clean. The kitchen is clean, even the counter tops. The plethora of stuff which usually goes along with actually living in a house has disappeared… mostly.

It’s supposed to look like nobody lives here, but anyone could.

So, please, don’t look under the beds. Don’t inspect the closets TOO closely. Don’t open the washing machine. At least our cars will be parked somewhere else when you come. Otherwise I’d have to say, don’t look in the car windows, not even a glance.

There are still three people living in this house. Don’t worry. We’ve vacated temporarily so you can see it and imagine living here. Two of us inhabitants are over 60 and the third is finishing up her last week of her last semester of college. The over 60 company (two’s company) are tired. It’s not easy going through 27 years of accumulated books, furniture, old toys from our children, new toys from our grandchildren, old school drawings, grandchildren drawings, photographs, projects, projects that failed but I couldn’t bear to throw out, Halloween costumes, yard sale purchases which were just too cute to pass up, etc. The almost ready to graduate college student has two more science experiments to finish.

We’ve almost done it. We’ve given away lots. There’s a bunch of stuff put together to be recycled. The other stuff is organized (mostly), packed (mostly), and stacked neatly (somewhat) in the garage and the studio. The rest is little stuff, odd stuff, things we can’t throw away, but what do we do with them and they don’t organize well or don’t fit into the boxes. 27 years of living doesn’t always fit neatly into boxes. This is why we’re exhausted.

So… promise us… don’t peek. If you do see something that is not exactly approved “staging” for showing a house, don’t tell on us. There are clothes in the dressers and the closets, dirty dishes in the dishwasher, food in the pantry, and mud in the mudroom. We really do use our toilets and wash up at the sinks. The dogs track in leaves and mud. The kitten forgot where the litter box was today.

A little bit of our 27 year stay in this place of brick and mortar and dust bunnies is showing through the cracks. Be prepared to be amazed.