Linux, musical road-dogging, and daily life by Paul W. Frields
The real deal.

The real deal.

Today our realtor visited and we signed all the papers to start the process of listing the house. We are well underway with packing and making the house a little more bare, which for some odd reason is supposed to appeal to sellers. I remember clearly looking at homes over a decade ago (when we first bought this house) and feeling very put off by the sterility of many of the new homes, with their plastic-covered carpets and neutral-colored sameness. Nevertheless, our realtor made assurances that told me we’re odd buyers in that respect.

Tomorrow we have a painter coming who will be starting to paint all the long neglected areas in the house, which is most of them. Although the house is in great shape, and we keep it clean, we just never really got around to picking out colors or doing any of that other stuff — except in the kids’ rooms, which are colorful and fun, but not glaring, and will certainly appeal to many young families who look at the place.

I am so looking forward to those evening calls, though, asking us if we can vacate for a while so our realtor can show the house. But it’s all for the best, and now we can travel up to New Hampshire next month to do house hunting with a clear conscience. The current downer is that although we like our neighbors across the street, they are selling their house too, which could make this an interesting few weeks or months.


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