I fall to pieces

A Saturday morning where you find yourself humming the lyrics “I fall to pieces”  as you brush your teeth, is obviously a day on the edge.

That was how the day started for me. We were down for an open house showing by our realtor. It was timed for just 45 minutes from 12 noon to 12.45, but of course the pressure was on to transform the Flamingo Dancer abode. Just what I love to do, first thing on a Saturday morning, especially after the very busy week I had at school, but that is life.

I pushed through with the last minute stuff as much as possible on Friday night, but was still up at 6.30 to tweak everything. Mr FD had a more substantial list to complete, but somehow even he got everything under control eventually.

Supermarket opening time saw me buying bunches of flowers – roses for the ensuite, carnations and diosma for the living room, and a mixed bunch of lilies for our kitchen. I even had croissants artfully arranged on a bread board. Am I manipulative, or am I manipulative; going for the emotive vein?

We left as the realtor arrived and went to a nearby restaurant for lunch. I brooked no excuse from Son and insisted that he lunch with us – something he will only do under extreme threat and sufferance. Apparently he feels that we socially embarrass him by exhibiting unpredictable and often rather eccentric behaviour on a regular basis. Ungrateful spawn.

We were back home soon after the end of viewing, but already the realtor had moved onto the next house on his schedule. He left a written report, and two bottles of water (?) bearing their logo. Two couples had viewed the house.

One commented that the house was too big for them (one of our reasons for moving now that we have only Son) and the others had only just started their house hunt and may return. In our price bracket I think that is about as good as one can expect.

We three were so exhausted from the effort of turning our castle into a palace, or a sow’s ear into a silk purse, whichever view you wish to take, and our tummies so full of food, that we all tumbled into bed and slept the afternoon away. I was heavily into a dream about mind control when I woke at 5pm!

Mr FD and the realtor are making noises about a repeat next week. I may be doing a little more than just humming a few bars by then.

9 thoughts on “I fall to pieces

  1. Must be hard, selling the family home.
    And each visitor will have a picture of what they want which won’t necessarily match your house.
    Won’t last forever though and then you’ll have your new Flamingo Palace to build. 🙂


    • It took me a long journey to get to this point as our last move was extremely stressful as it was accomplished over a full year and between two cities, but now that the ground work is laid, I am ready to move on and start a less encumbered life.


      • I used to read a blog by a woman in her 50’s I think who sold up and she and hubby bought a travel home. When I ‘met’ her they were gate keepers at some sort of huge industrial site in the boondocks of America. Everything was compact and close to nature. They had large chunks of the year planned into travelling and working. (not suggesting this for you FD for a moment – calico is so course)


  2. Our place is up for sale as well but we’re not doing the open house thing – people just come as they want and it’s funny what people do and don’t like about the place. Someone didn’t like the garage, someone did like the cat and dog doors(!), someone wants to knock the office wall out and make the bathroom bigger. We’ve had about six lots of people look at it now over the month.


    • Open house seems to be the thing in Brisbane and there are dozens every weekend. It only takes one buyer and on average it takes approx 28 viewings before a house without problems sells. In Qld everyone is nervous as the Qld govt is sacking everyone, and there is a steady flow of flood properties hitting the market, so I just hope that we can be resettled by Christmas.


  3. They don’t do the “cinnamon trick” over there? Over here, it’s not uncommon to have some form of cinnamon potpourri, or even an actual pan of cinnamon heating in the oven, when buyers come through. The “home baked apple pie” smell is said to increase a home’s appeal!


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