Entre Deux Mers(e)

So we have a new house in Duns. All ours from 10 October as long as we can get the specie to the right place before the right time. But now the hard bit. The Old Manse is on the market and we are living in a brochure-or rather trying to live up to a brochure. We already have had one prospective buyer poking around and another is coming tomorrow. They will already have Knight Frank's puff http://www.knightfrank.co.uk/webuk/flash/search.aspx )_-either the hard copy brochure or scanned the website from where these images have been taken. Advice on the hard sell rings in our ears:

(a) Sun to shine
(b) Garden to look neat and tidy
(ditto house)
(c) Smell of baking bread in Kitchen
(d) Fire blazing in sitting room (in the fireplace, ideally)
(e) Fresh flowers at strategic places.
(f) Match the brochure if possible

Saturday went well-sun on cue especially and as we had only just returned from Norn Iron we had not had the time to make a real mess but as time goes on it will be increasingly difficult to leave the sitting room looking as if HM the Q is expected at any moment and the Dining Room laid for a posh dinner party involving the Lord Lieutenant and two members of Legs and Co. As for the Bedroom. Sleeping in a stage set has never come easy and it gets tiresome to have to make the bed look like exhibit one from MR John Lewis' 'Bridal Collection' as soon as we have vacated our pit.

One small scare was the dumping of the most massive amount of slurry on the old Glebe Field immediately behind the house by the nearer Farmer C. People who have a rather idealised view of living in the countryside sometimes find such aromas challenging. But with a brisk wind from the south nary a waft came our way-doubly fortunate as we had no baking bread on line to mask other odours.

And then of course there is coping with the Wife's profile of the ideal buyer. No Developers need apply. Organic gardening, bird loving, charity supporting, Lib Dem/Green party,environmental huggers, Guardian readers only. And if they come roaring up Kirk Lane in a gas guzzling Beamer or tastefully metallic green Chelsea Tractor they can jolly well go roaring back again. Says she.

The wife is away until tomorrow evening. Fascist developers-Times readers, BMW and Fake Barbours now's your chance.

Carpe Diem

Labels: Hutton, Merse, Selling the Manse

  ¶ 12:53 PM