OK, threw 'best of intentions' to the winds, and bought a six pack of 'tallies' yesterday. Am a bit discombobulated at the moment (but not so far as to get stuck into the Port. That is reserved for when i feel 'safe'). Mebbe I should call on Anne's Faeries.
The first 'open inspection' was held yesterday.
Only for an hour and a half, thankfully. A dozen or so strangers wandering though my "private" space. Not my bloody choice.
Dunno how valid it is, but felt 'violated' somehow, glowered at them all and wasn't very friendly. Had a chat with the Real Estate Agent beforehand and half jokingly said "How about if I point out all the cracks, crumblings and iffy ceilings". He wasn't impressed, "Do that and I'll sue you. Best to say nothing." was his terse reply.
Unfortunate, in a sense, that the owners could not have waited until I'd departed, and they could have had an empty house to ''show''. Have, I suppose, been a bit "critical" of the owners, but they really are nice people. Mr. D is a pastor, or parson of some sort. Went to America (Arizona) some 15 years ago, and apparently don't have much money. The house requires much 'refurbishment' so the only option they have is to sell, but is still homely and livable, . (Please Mr. Custer, I don't wanna go ..).
They came to clear out their shed last week (has been locked for 15 years, needed a locksmith to 'break in', and contains much of their furniture and an old Morris Minor Panel van.). He has the same sort of problem as me .. what to do with it all. Not worth a pinch of shit to sell, and too expensive to buy back again.) Gave them a cuppa tea one afternoon. Mr. D. is very nice, and has developed a soft, rolling sort of American accent, but we sort of connected in a strange way. Mrs D. is the boss , harder accent, and seems to run the show. Frankly, I wouldn't give tuppence for the 13 yr old daughter. Arrogant little shit with big tits and braces on the teeth..
Am hanging on to the vague, and probably futile, hope that whoever buys it will let me stay on for a while. The consensus is that the estimated value ($3-350K AUD) is mostly land value and the house will most likely be bulldozed.
Am battling with too many multi-directional choices at the moment. Should I just throw up hands in defeat, sell everything and go "back on the road"? Have to admit that i feel a closer affinity with the 'lost and discarded' grit and gumption - than with the Stuffed Shirt, snot up the nose, Wall Street/ASX, tied by the necks, twin-set and pearls, botox and perms, sort of pretentious pontifical vacuous incompetent prickles.
Put all my stuff in storage and try to find another residence?
It took me six months to find this one. Close to my main work area, small enough to maintain, back yard to put 'stuff' in, and a driveway with no gate, which makes getting the trailer in and out hassle free.
One of the big problems at the moment is that it will probably take three to six months to sell my business. Where the heck am i going to stay during that time? Seems silly to move everything out, then find that the house sits empty for six months before they bulldoze it.
Have tea-chests full of stuff from 45 years ago .. Dunno how valuable all the books and LP's are... though could probably throw away the shoe-box full of the old test tubes, pipettes and ''chemistry set'' stuff. (um.. one vague option would be setting up a “Meth” lab .. heh heh.)
The ancient Box Brownies and Photo developing paraphernalia has to go. Bill Gates and his ilk have given us more digits than i can cope with. (not altogether true. Have been happily working all day with a freebie digital video editing system that i found on the web. British designed, simple, elegant, bloody marvellous.)
Ornaments and furniture inherited from mother (and father). Dunno. Who knows the value of 'antiques'. Most of the stuff is sentimental, not Sotheby's.
Tools. Sheesh, have pretty well every tool known to man pertaining to construction of basic habitat. All i need is an uninhabited fertile island somewhere in the South Pacific .. heh.
3 comments:
I met a Turkish man in Bodrum when I stepped of the ferry from Greece. He became my tour guide for a few weeks and I spent many weeks staying with his sister in Istanbul. We parted company in the Grand Bazaar. He carried all his worldy possessions in a sports bag. I very much admired that. There's nothing like travel to make you realise how little you actually need. My advice? When in doubt chuck it out (or sell it). Have a garage sale.
I can't believe the Real Estate Agent said that to you. What an arsehole. It would be so easy for you to make the house utterly repulsive, nothing like a bit of smelly filth lying around to turn people off. He's clearly too stressed out and too much of a fucktard to realise that it would serve him better to keep you onside. and to have taken your joke with the good humour in which it was offered. I'd be inclined after such a narky comment to not be terribly cooperative at all.
Agree with Link. You could shave bucks off that place by leaving open bags of garbage everywhere.
I will ask the faeries of Down Under to help you find new and better shelter. They'll want you to go live under a bridge, but in the end they'll see the light and git you a house.
Real estate agent has no sense of humor.
I hate having my space invaded, even for legitimate reasons.
Hopped here by accident. I like it here. Mind if I stick around?
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