Monthly Archives: September 2017

Serendipity went splat

You know when things are impeccably timed and result in the most serendipitous events? For example, you walk out of a change room in a shop to swop a shirt that was on the wrong hanger displaying an incorrect size and you bump into a friend you haven’t seen since you left school 20 years ago as she steps backwards out of her change room to get a better look at her jeans? Well, we just had a moment that was the opposite of that. So you could say it aserendipitous.

Our house is on the market and, as I explained in an earlier post, the business model of the estate agency we’re using involves us paying a flat fee for commission and then we show the house ourselves. So, tonight was a show night and we had four people scheduled to arrive at 15 minute intervals.

The house has never looked so tidy!

The first couple turned out to be Seth Rogan (well, it could have been!) and his wife. I know! We were as surprised as you are. My husband greeted them and escorted them in through the front gate while I pretended I wasn’t there. The plan had been for me and the littles to have a picnic supper on the lawn watching Full House while strangers walked around our house. Because things with children don’t ever (ever ever) go as planned, that didn’t happen. The picnic ended when Seth arrived. There I was left watching Full House with two mostly untouched bowls of macaroni cheese, a dog with halitosis, and a couple of mildly suspicious weaver birds. The children promptly ran into the house to follow our guests around from room to room, like two curious chihuahuas.

We had four sets of people come to judge our living arrangements. The chihuahuas frolicked and minced, minced and frolicked while I tried to look simultaneously busy and invisible in the garden. By the time viewer number four’s arrival was imminent, the boy child (who has had a stomach bug) decided he’d had enough and went to pick daisies by the front door. I saw him stomping around on something wet-looking that, on closer inspection, turned out to be his own poo. It had exploded from his nappy like an angry swamp monster and run all the way down his legs. As I turned to alert my husband of the code brown, our last viewer pulled up to the gate. Husband grabbed boy and sprinted to the bottom of the garden, holding him with arms out stretched and a look of determination on his green-tinged face. I leaped inside and grabbed a small plastic cup, the first container I could find, which in hindsight wasn’t very effective, filled it up and tried to wash the steaming puddle of poo off the path and front-door step!

The last viewer wasn’t particularly interested in our house, which may or may not have had something to do with the fact that as she walked into our garden the first thing she saw was me changing a nappy that was so befouled my eyes were watering.

Speaking of watering eyes… the day came to a close with our five-year-old daughter pouring peppermint essential oil all over the bathroom floor and smearing it in her eyes. That led to a fun 45 minutes or so of her howling and lowing like an injured cow. You absolutely cannot make this stuff up.

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In this house, we break the rules

In this house we do things differently. We do admin and prep the hour before in the manner of people who’ve been taking coffee intravenously. We make four different dinners in a house of four. We’ve also been known to paint the walls at 9:45 at night. In our house, we have rules so that we can break them. We don’t like rules and we don’t do things because we’re meant to. And we like companies who break all the rules and do things differently.

In this house, we break the rules.

We’re selling our house and moving on. It’s bitter-sweet: we love this house; it’s a real family home and has just about everything we want. It’s just not in the right location. When we were looking for houses, before we found this one, I told Mr Bloom that our garden must be big enough for our children to play Thundercats in. Our garden is perfect for a friendly race between Cheetara and Tygra. It also has a beautiful, long swimming pool, excellent for imagining the shark from Jaws is chasing you when you swim alone. You know how you do? Because we like rule breakers, we are using the services of a market-disrupting company called LeadHome. They’re kind of like the Uber of estate agencies. You book them online, and potential buyers make appointments in your personal calendar.

It’s a family home.

Mr Bloom and I both love digital media. We spend time on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. I do a great deal of ‘research’ on Pinterest, too. We get our television fix from Netflix. Both Mr Bloom and I have experience in digital marketing. So it made complete sense for us to use a digital estate agency. Now, instead of show days where strangers arrive en masse (or not) to poke around in our undies and judge the guest towels in our bathroom, we’ll be showing potential buyers around our home ourselves.

Like I said, Mr Bloom and I like to break the rules. So maybe we’ll have our potential buyers join us for a spot of TV viewing. We can all sit together and watch an episode of Golden Girls or Vampire Diaries. Maybe we’ll ask them to help us out in the veggie garden. They will, after all, reap the benefits if they decide to buy. I like to bake on weekends. Maybe I’ll hand over my Le Creuset spatula and let a potential buyer bake the carrot cake or ice the cookies, while I sip my perfectly chilled chardonnay.

We may invite the buyers to help out in the veggie garden.

Whatever we decide, I’ll let you know on one or other digital platform.