Tuesday, September 19, 2017

Back to Gabriola

Today was a day to relax — no stress about selling and no open house. I went to see Dr. Shoja and then checked out a table at EQ3 that will do excellently for my desk. It’s on sale, so that’s perfect.
We have to catch the 6:20 am ferry to Nanaimo tomorrow morning to be there for the building inspection; Dwayne’s picking me up at 5:30 am. I authorized septic and water inspections for Thursday so there’s no removing my subjects until Friday. And that’s my plan: Remove subjects on Friday and party all weekend by buying stuff for the place.
But tomorrow night I party too. I’m taking Dwight, Laura and Robin to dinner at Ancora to celebrate the sale of my place. Thursday, Friday and Sunday nights I’m dining with friends, too.
Regardless of the inspections, I’m living life believing the cabin’s mine — almost all water problems and septic problems are solvable with cash and that’s something I’ve got right now.
I’ll be back Friday.

Roman pillow. Spare me please!
My kind of "Roman" pillow.

My Condo's Sold

It's mine! Well, technically, I've the inspection to go through tomorrow, but I'm taking this place.

Yesterday at 3:30 my hopes started rising. I got a request for a private viewing so I hoped that realtor Dwayne and I would be looking at an offer after all.
At around five, Dwayne asked for more time saying he was waiting on an agent. He asked for 90 minutes and then he added: “All good!!!” By now I was certain an offer was coming but fearful of subjects.
Then he arrived and everything went far, far better than I expected. The buyer offered $601,000 with no subjects. That, you cannot beat. But the capper was a letter he wrote.
The buyers name is Michael. He’s a firefighter and an only son and he wrote his letter to go with his offer explaining how much he loved and wanted my suite. I’m going to write him a letter to try to make him feel as good as he made me feel. I absolutely love this stranger who will care for this place and love it as I have. What better outcome could there be?
And I’m going to leave him a big bottle of Veuve Clicquot in the fridge.
Cathy and I went to Musette for lunch. When we ordered our food I saw the delicious looking apple and blackberry pie and so we decided to get a piece and share it. I went to the clerk to get it and, first of all, she started laughing when I used my cross mouth sign to indicate my problem. I just persevered, trying to explain that I wanted one piece of pie and two forks.
When she charged me $12, I realized she thought I wanted two pieces of pie so I tried to mime again what I wanted but she just couldn’t understand me. I just kept trying. What else could I do and then, as I was deciding to give up and go back to my back and get my pen and note pad I heard a woman say: “Excuse me young lady, but it seems clear to me that this gentleman wants one piece of pie and two forks.”
I looked at her and she went on: “Am I right? Is that what you want?”
I nodded affirmatively and did my usual praying hands thank you sign and the young women began trying to figure out how to calculate the refund.
Then I heard the woman reminding the girl she’d laughed at a person’s disability and that by not looking at me when I was speaking (miming) that she’d done me a disservice. She was kind and gentle with the girl, but appropriately instructional. She made me feel great and so I kissed her hand.


Monday, September 18, 2017

D-Day (?)

The plan, as outlined by realtor Dwayne over a week ago, is that he’s to present offers — well at least one — tonight. It’s D-Day.
I go up, go down. Dwight called this morning and we were talking fine and then suddenly, bam: I lost my speech completely.
Someone’s called for a viewing at 3:30 today. I’m getting a good feeling from that — plus the fact that so far, Dwayne hasn’t cancelled our date for tonight. And … I got an email from him this morning about a home inspection of the cabin. He’s proposing we be there Wednesday morning while it happens and he’s lined up an inspector.
But surely he knows I won’t want to pay for the inspection of a place I don’t get so he must think we’re going to get an offer. God I hope so.
Sunday was gray. Attendance at the open was modest. I went to see The Viceroy’s House about the partition of India while it was on; it was a pretty crappy movie.
Late Sunday afternoon while the rains fed our poor parched gardens and lawns I kept thinking of a fire in a log cabin. In the evening I tired to watch the Emmy Awards. What a mess of self-absorption that was.
My hands and arms have been working normally and I’ve not had any episodes of staccato breathing in the two weeks since I decided to list my house and move. Interesting, eh?
Now I’m off to lunch with Cathy and then for a wander while the viewing happens.

Sunday, September 17, 2017

Last Open House ???

It’s Sunday and today’s the last open house. And today’s the last day I have to live in tidiness extremis. And I’ve only today and tomorrow to live with my stomach in knots of insecurity and anxiety.
Seventeen people/parties came through yesterday and the same potential exists for today. Surely I’ll get at least one offer and if I do, I’m taking it. Everyone except me is absolutely certain I’ve nothing to worry about.
As for the inspection: I’m not worried: It’s Norse Log Home and I read about them online. They’re built in Lantzville and all I read gave me lots of confidence about them — and mine is only twelve years old. So if my place sells, I’ll consider Violet Crescent bought.
And I’ll go on a shopping spree tomorrow.  I’m going to get a lot of things delivered here in advance of my move so that the mover’s take to the island: A patio set, patio heater, a desk, two guest beds, a freezer, a bar-b-q and some shelving.
My anxiety about the purchase and sale is my own doing. Realistically, the purchase was easy. I made an offer, they countered, I accepted. And if the sale of this place goes as everyone except me expects, it will have been easy too: Three open houses and then an offer accepted on the fourth day.
The packing and moving will be a lot of work but a total joy. The administrative stuff — dealing with my mail, and changing my address on my ID and with all my doctors and everything — will be a total pain in the ass. I’m going to get as much done here as I can before I move.
My meeting with Rob yesterday went okay. I said I hoped he’d come to Gabriola. There’s a chance our friendship may survive in some form. Or not.
An interesting observation: I’ve lost my ambition for The Defiant Dress. I don’t really care if anything happens with it. I’m way more invested in my move and my new life but I’ll be bringing my ladies over to my new studio once it’s fixed up and fixing them. Several were damaged in transit — the chopstick dress in particular. I chopped off tons of it.