[Magdalen] Tiny prayer request
Marion Thompson
marionwhitevale at gmail.com
Mon Apr 20 14:14:49 UTC 2015
I am very happy for you! May both your two couples decide in your
favour and compete with each other!
At my end, after a week my painter has finished the loft over the
garage, in parlous condition after Pat, the lodger, was finally
extracted. Inside the house, all is chaos. Walls of boxes of books
everywhere, paintings and pictures stacked everywhere, bare walls
because of painting and as part of stripping down the house for sale
(May 8th listing). It is beyond depressing to live in such turmoil and
to have absolutely no idea how long I must live like this. Where will
all this Stuff go? What is the balance between staging for sale and my
being able to live any sort of life in what remains? Unlike Molly, in
town, I am in a historic hamlet on a well and septic, no gas in town, no
wifi unless you make your own connection somehow, etc., delightful if
you are of that ilk, but not all will be attracted to the unpaved road
which is my street, for instance. Until the house sells I must stay
here, because there is no money to maintain two homes.
The free snow plowing that I enjoyed over the winter has left me with
two of the rairoad ties, used for edging the drive, in the drainage
ditch downhill from my drive, and a large quantity of driveway gravel
obliterating the flower bed at the end of the drive. Mustn't grumble --
the plowing was a blessing , but the fall-out certainly reduces curb
appeal! The priority is inside the house; I don't know when I'll get
outside to deal with the garden clean up.
A younger person couldn't do it!
Marion, a pilgrim
On 4/20/2015 12:51 AM, Molly Wolf wrote:
> I had two couples look at my house today. We just put the house on the market in Wednesday. Both couples loved the place and are "sleeping on" their decision. A good offer, conditional only on inspection, would be very, very nice.
>
> Thanks!
> Molly
>
> The man who carries a cat by the tail learns something he can learn in no other way. -- Mark Twain.
>
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