Getting Close!

She says she wants it.  She says she will pay the price asked for.  She rang the realtor.  The realtor rang me.  Said he would email her a contract today,

Driving into town this morning, I thought my heart would burst with joy.  I didn't realize how important moving close to the sea was until it became possible.  Seeing things with the mind's eye can make things real.  Most days when I do yoga I listen to #13 of the ABC Hush Collection.  There are several pieces, one right after the other, which evoke the sea.  Specifically me in a kayak on the sea.  Me in a kayak riding big smooth wave sets.  Me in a kayak riding big smooth wave sets while watching humped back whales glide underneath. 

Every day I listen to those songs and every day I see and feel me on the water.  The harp and piano equate with sun sparkled water.  The rise and fall of the violins, the rise and fall of the waves.  I just close my eyes and I'm there.

Now I am calling the Universe to provide the perfect property, one with a view, with birdsong from the bush with paddocks suitable for the horses, with a characterful house, and something which provides for Richard all that he requires (big shed and a location where the bush doesn't enclose the house.  He has a thing about trees being too close to the house).  

The house we missed out on at Burringbar provides the benchmark. The house pad was clear of trees yet the bush rose in a wall behind the house from which the birds sang symphonies.  The house was high enough to provide a stunning view of serried hills to the west (and coming storms!).  The house itself was perfect.  Two wings, each with bedrooms and baths and private decks, with the living areas and kitchen in the center.  It was as perfect as I could imagine. 

We've seen, desired and watched other perfect properties sell in the time we've been looking so I know they are out there.  Am not convinced the properties in contention number among them THE property.  But I could be wrong.  It all is in the viewing.

Which hopefully I'll be going to do next week.  Once we've signed the contract, I'm contacting realtors and Helen (for a bed to stay in).

Is the House Sold or Is it Not

Waiting to see if we've sold the house.  A woman viewed it, loved it.  I liked her, felt the house would fit her and vice versa.  Wanted to see her in it rather than that hard-edged woman we'd had before who was fine about her dogs 'sorting out the bandicoots' - but that's another story.  Anyway, this woman; whippet owner, Egyptian Mau cat owner, said up front she couldn't afford the $399,000.  Told the realtor she'd make an offer of $360,000, which after toting up the numbers, we accepted, just to see the house 'go to a good home' so to speak.

Blow me down, she reneged.  Said all she could give us was $350,000.  We said no even though (despite her saying previously she had to check with her bank) that the $350,000 was a 'cash' buy.  Then today, she offered $355,000.  Said no.  Finally came up with $357,500.  Said no.  Why can't people say what they mean and mean what they say?  We dropped $39,000 to meet her.  In response, she drops another $10,000!  Told D last time he rang to tell her 'good luck with her house hunting.'  He rang back immediately after we'd hung up to ask would I still accept $360,000 or was I just pissed off and done with her?  Yes, I would  accept but must say I've got a bad taste in my mouth.  The gloss has rubbed off and now I wish I'd stuck to my guns about price.  If her eyes were bigger than her stomach, that's not my problem.  The price is clearly marked on all the ads.  It's not a secret.

Anyway, waiting for that final call.  Think she'll have her panties in a twist now and won't come up with the extra cash. 

Another boring non-productive chapter in how not to sell a house

Answer?  Stick to your guns and don't listen to wheedling realtors or prospective clients who hope you're going to cave just to make a sale.

Sitting with my muzzle buried in the warm fur of Siamese cat Matisse who's on the desk just at the right height while my fingers move over the keyboard.  Yes, it's bloody cold.  2 degrees this morning, and this house is like a fridge.   It takes forever to warm up.  But at least my nose is warm, thanks Matisse.

Another couple coming to look at.... nope.

Next day.  Realtor rang Sunday morning. Clients cancelled.  Spoke to him today.  They looked at other properties in, lets say, the more boring side of town.  Yes, the land/houses are cheaper but the soil is poor, the land is flat and your neighbour is likely to have multiple car carcasses.  Not to be mean but that's the truth.

So then we had an email from earlier prospective buyers.  They wanted to meet with us to 'discuss the property',   Pseudo speak for 'let's cut out the realtor and make a deal between ourselves'.  Shot them back an email saying no way but very happy to answer bonafide question about house particulars.  Heard from the realtor, they made another poor offer which we promptly refused.  They are getting tiresome.

When they made their first somewhat insulting offer we made a counter offer.  Split the difference, you come up half and we'll come down half.  Instead, they keep making ridiculous offers, hoping to wear us down I suspect.  Even the realtor said today, it's only $7000.  Yes, $7000 on top of the huge reduction we already made.

They are starting to annoy me.

So we'll wait.  Surely there is someone out there who will see the very reasonable price as reasonable, see the beauty - hills and valleys and quiet, see the excellent soil, see the many improvements we have made - and not piss us about with pis-ant offers.

Can you tell I've had enough?  

Just now had a call from the realtor.  The prospective buyers want to have another look at the property before accepting our counter offer.  (They made an offer, $34,000 cheaper than we were asking.  We countered with the 'meet 'em halfway' offer).  So it could be a goer.  Gives me flutters in the stomach just thinking about it. 

And makes me restless.  Just got up and wandered around the house.  There's not much more we can do to make it presentable.  It is what it is. 

After a year and 3 months, is it possible?  Perhaps they will decide against it.  That is a distinct possibility too.

I can't sit here though.  Have to do something.  Guess I'll dust.  Raked leaves this morning, so that's good.  Can clean the shower and toilet this evening.  Doesn't need mopping again, just dusting.

Gosh, it could be actually starting to happen!

Today Is Not That Day

Had our second viewing (in a year) of the house.  A nice couple from NSW wishing to downsize and be near their daughter who's attending UQ Gatton.  They spent a long time with the realtor traipsing around the property and going through the house.  Thought, hoped, that perhaps we had a reason to be optimistic, until, when they were leaving the man said, 'Thanks anyway'.  Heart sank.

Now I'm just tired.  We scrubbed, pruned, mowed, polished, dusted, rearranged, swept, mopped and did everything but vacuum the cats getting the house ready.   It looked a treat.  It's a lovely old place, over 110 years now.   But its age is only obvious in its grace and beauty.  Structurally she's a rock. 

Thought I had a reason to be hopeful.  Even the elements seemed to conspire to create the perfect picture.  One of the orchids in the fernhouse is blooming, a glowing rich magenta.  It had rained enough to turn the grass into an emerald sea.  The weather was cool.  The skies were grey, threatening rain so we turned on some of the lamps which showed how warm and cozy it can be.  Still. No deal.


Then there were the nerves.  Not sleeping, pacing in my sleep, tossing and turning in anticipation.  All to naught.  Like Richard said, we won't be doing this again.  Once we move, that's it. 

So I feel a little deflated and a lot enervated.    Until next time when we go through the process again.

Realised that not selling our house and buying another in the past year has actually been a good thing as we've refined our ideas of what we want.  Whereas before we would have been happy to go as far as Crystal or Nobby's Creek, now we want to be on the east side of Murwillumbah.  Also, we want a view.  No matter how nice the house is inside, without some elevation and a view, it won't do for the long term.

We find houses that are perfect in imperfect surroundings or perfect surroundings and lacklustre houses.  So the right place hasn't appeared. 

Yet.

Just heard on the tv 'but today is not that day'.  That's for sure.  Another day will be that day.  Of that I'm certain.

Richard's gone to town. All morning to myself. Should be cleaning the bird verandah, which I will, just later. Doesn't work expand in the time available to do it or some such thing? If it does it will take me all morning and part of the afternoon to do the chores. But that's okay. Feels good to be alone and know my time is my own without interruption. Don't get me wrong. I love Richard and do not wish to live my life without him. At the same time, I believe spending time completely alone is necessary. I breathe more deeply.

I have a pastel painting going that I'm excited about. It's a departure from what I've usually done. It's gone through two metamorphoses already. I'd seen, of half seen, this painting on the wall of a room on a television program. This often happens. I see something or partly see something and it sparks off an idea. In this case I visualized a big big sky, a desert sky with pale blue shading down to a pale sand colour. In the back ground were two somewhat horizontal black slashes of colour, like beetling eyebrows and in the foreground, right near the edge of the paper, was a black sphere. But that painting didn't eventuate. The colour wasn't right to begin with and along the way the impact of that mental image vanished. Then I remembered an intriguing water stain that is on the back of an old horse head sketch. Copied it loosely onto the paper. The big black circle from the previous painting didn't fit so I wiped it out. Now I have this sinuous dreamy painting in greens, yellows and blue with some pink. It's kind of abstract but in it is a woman's anatomically incorrect body and a large face in 3/4 view. Not clearly delineated but they are there. Without intending to I've drawn inspiration from Birgit Erfurt's Karma Tarot. Perhaps in the curvy shapes and shadows but definitely there. Still, I like it. It's a far cry from the meticulously (for me) drawn pencil sketches where I lose myself in the details. This is much looser.

A few years ago I went to the Toowoomba Gallery and saw this painting, totally abstract, that was filled with light. It was almost spiritual this light. I kept returning to have aother look. Unfortunately I don't remember the name of the artist. That painting has stayed with me. This last work has the merest touch of that painting. A glow, a sense of things unseen. Admittedly, it's been fun to work with colour again. Even Natalia is cooperating in not playing with the pastel sticks.

The success of the application to quarry the mountain made for a couple of crappy days. It was as though someone had died. I grieved at the same time as I was angry. Rather than pretend I wasn't feeling those things, as useless as they were, I just let them through. I was mad and sad and that was that. Luckily the feelings passed and I'm my usual cheerful self again. In fact, in the past two days there's been this subtle but pervasive feeling of joy. Perhaps because it is finally over. When living under a shadow for such a long time, one forgets what real sunlight feels like. There's a long hard road ahead. We have to make the house saleable which means painting four rooms and, once the house is ready, cleaning the outside of dust and cobwebs and then keeping it that way. I ceased to worry about the thousands of black house spiders which make their homes under the eaves. There are so many and they are so tenacious that almost as soon as they are removed they return. Richard has to clean out the shed, a mammoth, nay Herculean task. He's been collecting 'stuff' for twenty years in case something might come in handy. There is some concreting to do and some gardening but otherwise just maintenance stuff. I'll have to clean the feed and tack rooms and keep them dust and web free as well.

Then comes the balancing act of putting the house on the market at the same time as we start looking for a place of our own. I've searched for real estate from Tenterfield to Nambour, from Byron Bay to Nanango. I am confident we'll find the right place - then comes the move. Thirteen birds plus two others that must be caught to take with us. Felicity won't survive without supplementary feeding and as Suki is her mate he needs to come too. Moving aviaries and birds will be the most logistically difficult - but not impossible. But first things first and the first thing is to clean the ruddy bird verandah!