The weekend was filled with grandparental/great-grandparental adoration. It also contained some excellent meals (my mother can cook), a shopping trip for new clothes for Jamie, who is fast growing out of everything he owns, 37, 560 repetitions of “Peekaboo, I see you” from my grandmother, a lot of exhausting moving of Jamie away from enticing looking boxes and plastic bags (my mother is in the latter stages of getting a new kitchen, and there’s still a lot of stuff sitting around waiting to be put away), and the discovery that Jamie does not like hummus. Not that this is likely to have any sort of impact on our menu choices, but I thought it was worthy of note, since it’s the first thing we’ve discovered that he doesn’t like.
What it did not contain, however, was a phone call from the R’s assuring us that they had finally found a house.
So why should this bother us, you ask? Surely this continued silence simply means that we opt for Plan B and put in a bid for the other house? Yes, that was indeed what we did, last week. We agreed, after some debate, on their asking price. We waited for the estate agents to call us back confirming their acceptance so that we could breathe a huge sigh of relief and enjoy the sensation of having a clue where we were going to be living in the foreseeable future. And, indeed, on Friday they called Barry back to tell him that, yes, the offer had been accepted – and, oh, by the way, the owner had just accepted a big contract at work and didn’t want to move in the middle of it, so he wouldn’t be moving out until November.
That’s nice for you, sunshine, and I’m sure you’ll have no trouble finding someone to sell the house to at that time.
We, meanwhile, are looking elsewhere. Of course, by now we are running a bit short on elsewheres, and last night the prospects were looking bleak as Barry scanned estate agents’ webpages, something he has now done even more times than my grandmother has repeated “Peekaboo, I see you” to Jamie. But he somehow managed to find three decent-sounding houses in our price range for us to go and see tomorrow, so we are hoping, against all odds, that at least one of them will not only meet our requirements but will be owned by someone who isn’t trying to play silly buggers. Don’t miss next week’s excruciating instalment.
On the plus side, apparently somebody is actually reading this blog, which is a great ego boost (waves at Kitty). Thanks for the interest!