Thursday June 23, 2005
“We’re getting a bit slack on the house selling thing,” Graham said.
I took a sip of my iced orange juice and replied “I dunno about you but in this heat I’m getting slack on just about everything.”
“Well, perhaps so, but we mustn’t let it slip. Keep up the pressure on the agent. Get that house website up and running.”
“I’m getting there with the website, just one page at a time ‘cos I don’t seem able to sit long at the computer before I start dripping on the keyboard. Been thinking about the agent, though.”
“Oh? Like what?”
“Well, we signed up for a sixteen week sole agency contract with them. I’m thinking that I should trot along for a meeting and suggest to them that they should think about giving us something in return for staying with them longer than the contracted term.”
“A significant reduction in fees would help.”
“Ah. That sounds good. Bet they won’t do it, though.”
“Well, if that’s so, we’ll switch to another agent, get a new, fresh approach, and a brand new advertising campaign.”
All of which may sound rather hard nosed but estate agents generally tend to do as little as possible in return for their fees and you do need to keep them on the ball if you’re going to get your money’s worth. I shall trot along to see them next week, weather permitting, which will coincidentally be half-way through the contract. If my prior experience is anything to go by there will be a marked increase in their efforts when I’ve told them of my intent.
It’s not the time to be all dynamic and forceful, though. Still too hot. The air is almost still, with no breath of a breeze to provide relief. And, would you believe it, this evening a neighbour down the lane decided it was time to have a really stinky bonfire. The word ‘neighbour’ is not really suitable. Seems I’m not the only one to think badly of such activity because, at the height of it, I heard raised voices and extremely strong language coming from the source. Stupid, stupid thing to do at the height of a hot spell. Very ‘country’, though.
I have done very little. Finished ‘The Da Vinci Code’—a slow read but increased in pace and excitement as it went on and concluded. It’s good but not earth-shattering, not worth the hype. I reckon it’ll make a darn good movie. Turned to the next book on my reading stack: ’52 Ways of Looking at a Poem’ by Ruth Padel. Promising, particularly at this stage in my poetry famine. Not sure I’ll make much headway on it, though, until it’s a little cooler. Or a lot cooler.
On past experience this heatwave will end with a torrential downpour or a major thunderstorm, or both. The weather forecasters think so, too, and the possibility keeps appearing in their ‘next few days’ predictions, only to slip along the bar as those days actually arrive.
I’m being sensible, keeping up the liquids and avoiding excessive physical effort but even so it’s beginning to get to me. This evening I found myself popping and huffing a little as I breathed, not much, and it was at the height of the smoke assault, so I’m not getting silly about it. Needs a careful watch, though.
My magnifier/lamp arrived and very fine it is, too. A precision instrument such as you’d find on a horologist’s work bench, or in a dental lab. I’m looking forward to putting it to use as soon as… you guessed it, as soon as the weather cools down.
And, finally, by the same post came a little, low-cost eBay present for myself—a small picture frame made to resemble a traditional beach hut. I love it to pieces, every detail, right down to the wonky perspective on the door. To my great surprise, Graham likes it, too. I need to find a suitable picture to put in it but for the moment I’ve taken a scissors to a failed watercolour postcard, trimmed it to 3″x2″ to fit, and used that to bring the frame to life. What it really needs is a picture of the interior of a traditional beach hut. I shall take a trip through my memory banks and paint one… when the weather cools down.