It was love at first sight. For both of us. We weren't looking for it.
At the first open for inspection both Will and I were mad for this house. Four children's bedrooms, a study for Will, a studio opening to the garden for me, a pool out the back. We wanted it badly.
It set in train a flurry of activity at our house. Painters, handymen, landscapers, real estate agents came calling. Everyone was hard at work.
There was much ruminating in the middle of the night. Thoughts were shared: "I'm worried we may not love that house as much as we love our current house"; "There's no wall for the piano"; "Not all our furniture fits."
We were torn. We were in, we were out. By the time the auction came around we were out. The house sold for an absolute steal today. One fifth less than we thought it was worth. (Since when does that happen?)
But we're OK with it. All those pesky odd jobs we needed to do around our house have now been done - from a broken fence paling at the front, to school bag hooks in the garage out the back. Fresh paint, a decluttered house and garage, a spruced up garden and look:
Is that an impressive toy drawer or what? Flylady would be proud.
And thankfully I don't have to turn my studio into a formal dining room for our own auction campaign. That would have killed me - trying to run Townmouse and packing up all signs of it for open-for-inspections twice a week.