Once again we are living in a house for sale. This time we don't own it. This makes the entire enterprise harder to get comfortable with. You'd think it would be easier since it isn't our place, but the proscriptions on how to behave are much more precise for that scenario. You know you want the house spotless and you want to be exceptionally accommodating. Now, we just don't want people to think we live like slobs. We don't really- but our decor is definitely "grad school 101". No, my furniture in grad school was actually much nicer.
Anyway, Tuesday a photographer came to shoot images for the on-line listing. She brought her step ladder and a very wide angle lens. The result is a view of our house that has never been seen before. I feel like we must be living in a "fun house" and expect that the mirrors are all wavy so you look either 50 kilos heavier or very, very thin. (See how I slipped in that Australian metric measurement. Smooth.) You'll see she REALLY focused on the dining room- and totally skipped the "lounge"-- lounge population 1. one small end table/bookcase combo jobby and 2. two cans of clams sitting on the floor covering possible spider entrances. It is a fine room. It has a red wall. I often spread out my yoga mat and stretch in there.
You'll see I made the bed. I didn't hide the front of the drawer to the dresser that has broken off. The photographer didn't either. She probably didn't notice until she got home and looked at the photo. I'd have tried to photoshop it out. She did, however, remove some of the piles of papers that sit forever atop the desk in the computer room. It looks positively neat. Neat- with the world's crappiest love seat.
Saturday is the first open house. I'll be at work so it will be Kevin's duty to be scarce with the dog. He hasn't had practice with this. Hope he isn't too stressed! Zelda should be able to show him the way it is done.
