The passing parade of real estate agents

So it looks like this move is going to happen.

When and how is another issue. 

We are talking with attorneys about selling the house ourselves because we have people who want to buy it. 

We have real estate agents on our doorstep so we have options in case one of the people who want to buy it don't meet our price. 

And we have had moving companies in and out of the door giving us estimates because when you move interstate, it's by the pound and by the mile.  Ugh. 

The real estate people are interesting.  Some people throw out a huge number because they want your business. Some people think the house is fine as is "because it is livable without anything that has to be done."

Then, other agents want the whole thing redone, top to bottom.  

Other agents tell us to subtract furniture and lighting, while still others tell us to not subtract lighting and not replace it, in case it leads to unseen, unknown problems.  

"Why replace a ceiling if you don't have to?  Leave that light right when it is." 

But it's the prices that are freaking us out.  Let's start with what we think the house is worth, and we'll call that X, today. 

Realtor One says:  "Of course, you can get that, but I would list it  at X+Z and let's see who bites."

Realtor Two says: "As of today? I think your price is optimistic.  I think you are overinflating the price by Q.  So I would put it on at X-Q, or G.  Or we could put it on at X+F, but then you have to spend some money on upgrades..."

Realtor three says: "In a perfect world, it should bring X.  But who knows?  I say X is good, or X - 5, and get people in a bidding mood."

Then there are their suggestions. 

R2: "Replace this, that, and that bathroom floor."

Us: You can't just do that. We'd have to pull the whole bathroom, and what guarantee is it that we would get our money back?"

R2: "We you won't get all of your money back, but you'd get 90% and it would make the house sell faster."

UGH!

All of it, UGH!

Anyway, we have two more relators to interview, then we will put out all of their suggestions, and compare. 

And this doesn't even begin to cover the buying side of the equation, which is a mess, in Ohio. 

Ugh!

Cliques at the Nonprogressive Progressive Dinner

 

Seriously? What the hey?

As you all will remember, I wrote about the catfight that erupted between two neighbors over yard debris.  One neighbor had her landscaper blow her into the neighbor's yard, and when that neighbor blew her back, things got catty, and very mean girls meets junior high schoolish nanny nanny bo bo.

And coming up was the neighborhood potluck, and folks wanted an update about what happened when the two hellcats met up at what is usually a big event for the neighborhood.  

Well, we had the neighborhood potluck, and NEITHER party showed up.  So instead of fireworks, we had a wet sparkler.

But what was really disappointing was that the neighborhood potluck was, up until COVID, and fun and festive affair for us in the neighborhood.  You had people of all ages and backgrounds.  And if you were new, you were introduced by neighbors to people they know. 

In fact, for an event that used to draw 100-125 people 12 years ago, this year only 75 RSVP'd that they would be there.  Of those seventy-five only forty to fifty showed up.  

But by dessert, which the people who were supposed to bring didn't, the group was down to less than 30. A lot of people just ended up leaving after dinner with an Irish Goodbye.

No, each street is assigned a duty.  If you live on X, then you bring a main dish. If you live on Y and Z, you bring a side. Q and R bring an hors-d'oeuvre for the cocktail hour, and finally, M brings dessert. (X and M are the longest streets in the neighborhood, the rest are short.)

So X Street stepped up, and everyone else, well, just came to drink and socialize and treat it like Wine-O-Clock. Hell, the M Street people only could muster a frozen cheesecake and a "vegetarian soy "Puddin'' with currants.  Dutifully, I tried it, after all someone made it. It was something that I had not had before and the flavor was, well, let's say there was a flavor there. And I hate currants, but I ate some. 

It's kind of hard to have a progressive potluck when people don't hold up their end of the deal. 

It's not the only time recently this has happened. They treat any event like this as wine-o-clock.

Worse still, the progressive potluck was an event designed to help people meet the people in their neighborhoods. Now it seems to have been taken over by unsocialized packs of wine-o-clock mommies and bro-dads.

And these play date parents, do not let non-parents in. Nope, they don't know what to do with you. 

But the 30-45 crowd only socializes within their clusters.  And maybe that's the way things are changing toward. I just find it really sad.

So this may be our last event. And if we go next year, I am not wasting money on making food that doesn't get eaten and gets thrown out. 

But one thing is for sure, I am detaching from this place.  In my mind, we've already moved. 

Vacation Interruptus

 

Well, it was bound to happen in these times of COVID.  

The Husband and I left for the Ohios last Monday.  This trip was a long, long-planned annual visit to see friends, family, and of course, "Shrine of the Family and Ancient Locations," as we like to call it. 

Monday, we had dinner and drinks with friends, no issues there, although someone got very loud and very drunk.  Not me, not the husband. Enough said.

Tuesday, we shopped, bought, and acquired "stuff" that which we cannot get here in our self-imposed exile in Maryland. So that was good. 

Tuesday, we had dinner with more beloved friends at a favorite place. Delightful!

Wednesday, we made a trip to tour neighborhoods in Cleveland Heights, and Shaker Heights, that we are looking at, should the near future take us there. And we spent the day visiting those Ancient locations of my youth. And while it seemed like just yesterday for Cookie, let's face it, that was in the previous century.  

We do have an affection for Lomond and Sussex neighborhoods in Shaker.  We both got a huge neighborhood hard-on for the Euclid Heights neighborhood of Cleveland Heights. Both the husband and I were in love with the location and the feel of the neighborhood.  So much so that we literally moved emotionally. 

We visited with family, ate at our favorite deli, then headed to Columbus.  By this point we were exhausted, so we got pizza and headed to the hotel suite we chose to pamper ourselves. 

That's when we got the text.

Our friend "Myrt" texted us to say that her husband, Horace, who was fine the night before at dinner, woke up sneezing his head off, running a fever and sick, and tested positive for COVID. 

That meant we called everyone in Cleveland that we had a contact point and let them know.  I texted the doctor while The Husband spoke with Myrt, asking about Horace.  Then we called all the people we were going to see and canceled those plans.  

We reinforced to Myrt and Horace that we were grateful they called, and despite her saying "you probably hate us...", no, we love you all the more.  But I did point out that Mryt and Horace were going to buy us a good steak dinner the next time we are back home. 

So we sat and brooded, mulled over options.  We are fully vaxed, still, we were worrying. Was the exposure long enough, could it have been passed in conversation? We shared no meals, but...

In the end, we made the call to get in the car in the morning and drive the seven hours back to Baltimore. 

No fun. 

The whole way back we were messaged, texted, and were otherwise contacted by friends. telling us we made the right decision.  I mean no one wants to be with someone who possibly could expose them to COVID - Cookie would certainly not want that. 

Still, our disappointment was evident.  

We told ourselves that at least we could get the dogs back early, we missed them something awful, and we did get our points back from the hotel without any type of bureaucratic kerfuffle.  Face it, I said, they were glad we were leaving before we got everyone sick there, too. 

And yes, we are making plans to go back later in the summer, and for longer. Still, it was quite a blow in the present. 

So now we wait, six full days before we can take a test to see if we test positive. If we do, may it be mild. Then it's another 10-14 days in total isolation to clear the virus.  Good thing we like each other. 

But the whole thing crystallized one important thing - if we were living there, this wouldn't have robbed us of a vacation.  Our friends would be people we could again see all the time. And we wouldn't have to bumble about in a car for all those hours. 

Moreover, we could be back home where we yearn to be and belong. 

So COVID may score one on us, but in the next year, Ohio, here we come.