So you might know that The Big House is for sale, and Open House weekends have seemingly become my life. Preparations (ie fucking house work) are a pain in the bum, but I reckon after a good few, I have come up with some short cuts.
Restrict yourselves to the absolute fewest bathrooms possible during the week. No that doesn't mean I actually shared a bathroom with Steve and his powder, nor did he with my bubbles and potions, but that meant only 2 bathrooms to scrub-a-dub. The others only needed a bit of a guezzz around, except for the downstairs loo and that needed a scrub too. Ho bloody hum. Oh and if you can stand it, use shit towels and save the 'right coloured ones' for showtime.
Don't bother with polishing the granite all week cos it will need to be done again ANYWAY, so save the effort and give it a go just before the punters get there. Have a BBQ for dinner on the evening between inspections to save filthying up the kitchen. That's the plan for tonight, so I will see how it goes.
Just hose off the pool glass that is all manky from the dog shakes. It is NOT necessary to go at it with a glass cleaner and a squeegee. BONUS!
So now the place is in good order and it's time to insure that you are not gonna be too inconvenienced by the lookie lookers. Well more than opening your place up to a bunch of complete strangers, cos that's just a given pain in the bum.
It's the age old question - to hide the toothbrushes or not to hide the toothbrushes. Yeh I hide 'em, cos I remember a story about some shitbag coming in and sticking a toothbrush up their bum and taking a picture of it and then sticking the toothbrush back and posting the photo at a later date. OOOOH YUK! Well even if this is an urban myth, I don't fancy taking the risk, so away they go. Bath plugs which are easily nicked for purpose or piss off value and Tellie remotes with nickable batteries can get all popped out of sight. The only trouble with this is remembering where you have hidden stuff. I have spent hours looking for those night lights and mozzie zappers, or maybe some bugger found 'em in their hidie-hole and nicked 'em. Anyway I reckon if they are still here, I will find 'em when I am packing up, if we ever sell the place.
Pack a basket with Doggie treats, your kindle and phone and be ready for the off when the smiling agent arrives, and enjoy the 3/4 of an hour to yourself forgetting that strangers are fucking up the floors, or that you have to do it all again tomorrow and next weekend.
I went to a neighbourhood auction just before today's onslaught and it was not an exciting one. No Sale and only 1 bid. I wanted to give out fliers but consensus was that that was not cool practice. Not sure why.
Come on the punters to the Big House.
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