The stager

So if my spelling a grammer are a little off, forgive me.  I am half way through a bottle of wine and fully intend to finish it.  Here's why . . .

With two different jobs a day off is a rare event.  Like maybe once every couple of weeks. My excitement at not being called into the Disney Store was quickly overshadowed with the annoucement that "the stager"  would be arriving at 10am.

Appearantly, when asking this much money for a house, it must look like something out of a magazine.  This requires the services of someone called a stager.  Part designer part drill sarget it appears her mission is to turn a comfortable home into a show worthy house.

This particular stager started by touring the house.  Then she started talking about the "challenges" of our house.  If she had been consulted earlier she would have "toned down" the colors in the kitchen and dining room.  Really these are the only rooms with anything even closely resembling a color.

Next, there was too much art in the dining room and living room and not enough in the other rooms.  She informed me that anyone looking at our house would be the "pottery barn" type and expect a certain level of design.  It was here mission to showcase the "Linstead (our neighborhood) Style.  Who knew our neighborhood had a style? So out goes my mother's crystal to be replaced with what was left of a bottle of expensive rum and the letters of JRR Tolkein.  Half of the good china stays out the other half I saved from having my husband throw it unwrapped in a plastic box.  She went from room to room creating piles of things, my things, that were no longer "needed' and then going through every cabinet and drawer looking for things that were more appropriate.

My running medals need to go.  The wine rack needs to go (hence the bottle I am now drinking) several pieces of furniture are now at goodwill.  There can be desks in the rooms but they must be empty (really, it's tax season) and there can't be chairs.  Apparently, everyone comes out of the shower dry as there can be no rugs in the bathroom.  Towels need to be purchased and they must be beige.  I also got a twenty minute lecture on how all the bed pillows must be the same height and that I needed to spend money we don't have on beige bedding that I will probably burn the day after the house goes under contract.  The womean left piles of things in every room.  It was like cleaning up after a two year old.

What amazed me was the anger and depression this engendered.   We had already done so much, there hasn't been a family picture out for months.  It already felt like we were living in a hotel.  Now it will be a hotel where even the hairdryer must be hidden.

Oh where is my hairbrush?

So along with "vanilliaing" and "hoteling" of our home comes the "organization".  Now I use this term loosely.   Lately, I have been unable to find everyday items.  Andy empties counters and loads the items in drawers when having the agents tour.  Finding those items afterward is a matter of asking and hoping he remembers.  The classic husband yelling "where's my. . .  as become the wife not quite yelling but still wanting to know where my stuff has gone.

 I spent several hours last week in the kitchen going throug and reorganizing the drawers.  I guess Andy took this example to heart as the next day the pantry was organized.  The day after that my favorite coffee cup was missing but the cupboard was organized like a photo shoot was about to happen.

 When touring the house the new agent remarked that there could be nothing on the kitchen counters.  The next day the toaster was missing.  The day after that the toaster oven (I found it in the basement).  Today the counter was empty except for my coffee maker and a bowl of fruit.  Breakfast for the next month is going to be a challenge.  If the coffee maker goes missing, I swear there will be hell to pay!

Fifty shades of beige

Andy has been systematically"vanillaing" our house over the past several months.  Our kitchen floor was replaced with beige tile.  The bedrooms have been painted  one or antoher of the  "fifty shades of beige."  The two rooms that needed recarpeting are now sporting an oatmeal beige shag.  The hallways now sport light beige.  All in an effort to make this place more marketable.  I am starting to feel like I am living in a hotel.

We love art, and we have lots of it.  Mostly Disney but other things picked up during our many travels.  Most of it is now residing in closets as it has been taken off the walls.  What is left is some of my favorites.  But I miss the others.  It will seems like having old friends return when we get to a new house and I get to have a hanging party.

The agent

So, part of listing a house is hiring a real estate agent.  I have turfed off this assignment to Andy because a) he is now retired and since he doesn't even want to look for paid employment till June has lots of time. b) even if I took this on I would be second guessed and this would just piss me off.  After interviewing three agents he has made his choice.  This agent sold our neighbor's house in 8 days.

This man with his vast amount of knowledge prices our house at &799k. and expects to us to see 745K and it to be sold within 1 month.  Yes I know it's a nice neighborhood with a community beach.  I know we are walking distance to just about anything we would need (God I'm going to miss that) but that seems like an extreme amount of cash.

One of the other choices was the agent who sold us the house.  She lives in the neighborhood.  She noted that because of our neighbor across the street and his fondness for parking boats in his yard, we would take at 50k hit on the price.  Odd, that when we bought the house we paid full price and it wasn't an issue.  I personally love my neighbor as he owns a snow plow and bailed us out on numerous occasions (God I will miss that too)

The contract will be signed on friday.  Let the madness begin.

They many ways of getting smaller

For those of you who don't know me welcome.  I am a 56 year old happily (as of the moment) married mother of three and soon to be grandmother of one.  I have a demanding job with the center of immunization research which is part of the Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public health.  Currently I am working on a dengue virus trail funded by the Gates foundation.  That is a long way of saying a bunch of rich folks giving away money is the reason I have a job.  There is also a second, much less demanding job with the Disney Store.  My Disney store is an outlet located in Arundel Mills Mall next to the Maryland Live casino.  This makes for some interesting "guests" but that is a story for another time.

When not busy with the above, I have become increasingly fond of running.  Over the years I have progressed from fair weather "I'll run when I feel like it" to "yes I can do a half marathon and put in the training even in winter.  Running has helped my downsize from 155lbs to 136 as of yesterday without a whole lot of dietary modifications.  Even my DH has noticed that I have become "more compact"

After 33 years with the public school system my husband decided to retire at the age 59.  While his income has dropped dramatically, our expenses haven't.  Thus the decision was made to put our house on the market and look for something smaller in a neighborhood  where we didn't have to think about the school system.  So we are now in the process of "downsizing"

This blog is meant to cronical both the running and the retirement.