A Tale of Two Houses, Part One

I’ve had a lot going on lately with buying a new house, trying to sell my old house, and moving. Throw in a trip to North Carolina with my sisters and a ten day family beach vacation in the middle of all that, and life has been full. I’m also preparing to see off my daughter, son-in-law, and two grandchildren as they embark on a year-long travel adventure. My heart is getting pulled in many directions, and sometimes I feel as if I’m drowning in busyness. It’s all good busyness, but I feel like I need to take a break, sit quietly, and still my brain.

A recent blog post spoke to my desire for a new home, and you can read it again HERE. I found the right house, just three blocks away from the old one, and closed on it two months ago. Because I didn’t have to move right away, I chose to stay in the old house while I readied it to sell. This involved lots of declutterring, packing, and transporting to the new house. This way, I was able to stage the old house for potential buyers while starting the moving process. I also hired a handyman to fix a few minor issues at both houses.

The old house went on the market just one week before our trip to North Carolina. And thank goodness my realtor/sister was on this trip with me, because she was fielding calls and texts from interested buyers daily, and it was easier being with her to make decisions on the fly. Also, thank goodness for electronic document signing. By the time we got back in town, the house was under contract.

But that’s when the trouble began, and the contract fell through. I’ll share that saga next week. Because I thought the contract was solid, I hired a moving company to move me four days after returning from the beach.

By the time I was ready to move into my new house, I had already manually moved all of the items that I could physically move. That left only the heavy and large furniture. This moving technique was actually quite easy. The pace was relaxed, and I could pack and unpack boxes without sealing or labeling them, then reuse them the next day. It was good exercise too, transporting everything down my flight of concrete stairs to the street. I’m going to miss those stairs for their fitness value.

Moving day was a simple affair with five guys, one truck, and four hours. Well, it was simple for me. I wasn’t the one moving a baby grand piano or four very heavy outdoor pots. Because there were five movers and my new house has two floors, I was dashing around instructing them where to place all the furniture. Just as they finished, the sky released a deluge of a rain shower.

So now my old house sits empty, off-market, as I contemplate whether I should refinish the floors before putting it back on the market. I’m mostly unpacked in the new house, and it feels like I live here now, especially since I finally met a next-door neighbor. The larger square footage from the finished basement has proven to be of great help to my daughter and her family as a storage area for items they will not be traveling with.

Golly, I’m tired just writing this. I’m not going to know what to do with myself once everything has finally settled. Sit and read maybe? Write?

 

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