An anxious day ... until
The task before us this year was dawning on me yesterday as I faffed around to get the repaired oven back.
Downsizing means :
1) selling the house after April, when the tram come almost to the door.
2) redecorating in probably three rooms. Touching up in others.
3) dramatically reducing our books. Watch for treasures on Amazon!
4) and our furniture. Will this mean I have to sell my fake Brynmawr chair?
5) and the normal spring garden slash-and-dump
We need to get shot of:
sofas, bunk beds, wardrobes (unless we leave them here), tables, chairs, garden furniture, books, bikes?, LOADS of stuff!
So yesterday morning, thinking of our typical week, I wondered when we would actually accomplish these feats!
Then I wondered whether anyone would actually fancy buying our house, with all the foibles and drawbacks we have lived with over these years.
Then my crazy friend came round. My most unusual and barking mad friend, he is terminally ill with lung cancer (but has been all the years I've known him) and has taught me all the WORST words in French that I know I could never use. You can usually work out the meaning of these words, but reading Houellebecq confirmed my analysis.
Time does not allow me to list the proofs of his craziness. But yesterday he really helped me enormously. He LOVES our house. He imagines it fetching ENORMOUS prices. "Add a pool, it wouldn't cost much, perhaps 7000 euros, and you could sell this for half a million!" I'm sure he's wrong, and anyway, who has 7000 euros?, but it did make me think that perhaps the house has features and qualities that I am used to. and it made me think that perhaps we will sell it. Not for half a million, but perhaps we will sell it.
Of course, the real answer to these concerns lies in trust in the providence of God. And we know this. Before coming to France we sold a house that was impossible to sell in less than a week, to the first viewer, and for a good price.
But, unfortunately, sometimes stress and anxiety win.
Until God sends a crazy friend to visit who just takes the edge off!
Downsizing means :
1) selling the house after April, when the tram come almost to the door.
2) redecorating in probably three rooms. Touching up in others.
3) dramatically reducing our books. Watch for treasures on Amazon!
4) and our furniture. Will this mean I have to sell my fake Brynmawr chair?
5) and the normal spring garden slash-and-dump
We need to get shot of:
sofas, bunk beds, wardrobes (unless we leave them here), tables, chairs, garden furniture, books, bikes?, LOADS of stuff!
So yesterday morning, thinking of our typical week, I wondered when we would actually accomplish these feats!
Then I wondered whether anyone would actually fancy buying our house, with all the foibles and drawbacks we have lived with over these years.
Then my crazy friend came round. My most unusual and barking mad friend, he is terminally ill with lung cancer (but has been all the years I've known him) and has taught me all the WORST words in French that I know I could never use. You can usually work out the meaning of these words, but reading Houellebecq confirmed my analysis.
Time does not allow me to list the proofs of his craziness. But yesterday he really helped me enormously. He LOVES our house. He imagines it fetching ENORMOUS prices. "Add a pool, it wouldn't cost much, perhaps 7000 euros, and you could sell this for half a million!" I'm sure he's wrong, and anyway, who has 7000 euros?, but it did make me think that perhaps the house has features and qualities that I am used to. and it made me think that perhaps we will sell it. Not for half a million, but perhaps we will sell it.
Of course, the real answer to these concerns lies in trust in the providence of God. And we know this. Before coming to France we sold a house that was impossible to sell in less than a week, to the first viewer, and for a good price.
But, unfortunately, sometimes stress and anxiety win.
Until God sends a crazy friend to visit who just takes the edge off!
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