Happy New Year! I’m back lovely readers!! Sold, moved, settled and so very grateful to be ALIVE! Literally and figuratively. And now to 2021…
How exciting to have a whole new one to continue entertaining our Covid19 lockdown intentions? Mine included shedding a few kilos, exercising daily, sorting storage, becoming conversationally adept at French, writing, baking bread, and more. Reality? Donned the covid jacket, incapacitated myself via a squat, moved the stored stuff from A to B, learned precisely six new French words, and wrote a random blog or two. Oh! And proudly held aloft the complimentary sourdough loaf that came with the brew at my fave coffee shop (the only one open during lockdown), squealing, ‘look what I made!!’.
Sooooo! This year there’ll be no lofty goals. Instead, I’ve simply adopted a one-word mantra — a power word.
‘ALIVE!’
My power word forces me to consciously:
Don the face mask – it’s contributing to keeping us all alive
Make time to hang with my fave people – they make me feel so alive
Contort into that Yogic pretzel – an awkward reminder that I’m definitely alive
Hit the footpath for a morning walk – keeping the body active and alive
Lift my face to a rain shower or breathe in the beach – negative ions for vitality
Listen to inspirational podcasts – appreciating the guidance of others
Examine the neighbourhood– so buzzing and vibrant
Jot thoughts into the daily gratitude journal – how lucky to be ALIVE!
Of course, life isn’t always beer and skittles. When I find myself grumbling into my beer, desperately wanting to poke someone in the eye or sulking (in which I hold a masters), my power word starts hollering. ‘Suck it up, princess – be thankful your ALIVE!’
If you were to choose your power word, what would it be?
Hello, there lovely readers, been thinking of you as we continue grappling with our new way of being. If you’re in need of a little light entertainment, let me share the blood, sweat and beers that went into prepping my cosy little abode for sale. Yep, we’re on the market; new apartment currently being built, a stint on the coast with the silver fox in the interim – poor lamb, I suspect he’s taken out insurance to cover his psychiatry bills – but I digress, an exciting little sea-change during these crazy times.
As those of you who’ve been down the same path will attest, it’s a whole barrel of laughs turning your home into micky-spiff gleam for photography yet welcoming for the open house punters, isn’t it? Well, I did the homework, I’ll do anything to increase the chances of a decent offer, and if you’re yet to wander into similar territory, here’s what I learnt:
Minimal clutter? Too easy!
‘Clean lines, large open spaces and minimal clutter will make for great images, ok?’ advised the photographer and videographer. ‘Too easy, I don’t do clutter’ said I. Ha! Turns out a kitchen short on storage requires exceptionally creative ways to hide a toaster, kettle, fridge magnets and knife blocks. So too, a raft of cosmetics and a dingy full of shower toiletries, body scrubs and associated tools as well as scales, rubbish bins and bathmats. And let’s not forget family photos, magazines, books, ornaments, smart device cables, shoes, sporting equipment, keys, unruly open wardrobes, office paperwork, monitors and electrical cords. I could have kissed them in clear disrespect for social distancing when they said they never photograph a laundry!
One kitchen appliance? You’re joking!
Following the oracle that is Google, narrowing my home down to just one kitchen appliance, a couple of ornaments, a coffee table book, and a candle was no mean feat. Not to mention the urgent run to the nearest Adairs for fresh matching towels and Woolies for roses and a bunch of green apples for the kitchen bowl in a one-hour candidate cancellation time slot. Positively olympian! Inspired me to join Steptember – geez!
A lightbulb moment…
The one where Google said that when preparing your home for photography, every single lamp and overhead light in the place should be turned on and all lightbulbs the same colour. Wot! My bedroom lamps have a soft pink hue, the lounge a warm white thanks to ever so clever ‘smart’ bulbs; the kitchen and bathrooms all halogen. Shite! After an intimate engagement with Woolie’s lightbulb section, I said ‘feck it’, photographers can sort it. See? Lightbulb moment.
Where’s the toaster darl?
‘The toaster? It’s in the laundry basket hon.’ ‘No don’t use those towels, they’re for display.’ ‘Hey! Use the half-empty loo roll, not the new one on the holder ok?’ ‘STOP! Don’t walk on the carpet, you’ll leave footprints!’ I screamed as the silver fox turned helpless circles on a small patch of non carpeted floor on open house morning, desperate for food. Cushions chopped into random rabbit ears and blooms fluffed just like a seasoned stylist, fingerprints eradicated like a pro-criminal, I called to the now happily fed man ‘What do you think mate, that should do it huh?’
Cupboard peeking punters
The cluey man, drawing on a brief stint in real-estate back in the ’80s replied ‘Hon, you do realise that the punters will peek in the laundry and every single cupboard, cos’ that’s what punters do. What do you plan on doing with all the crap you’ve shoved in there?’ ‘They won’t look in my cane laundry basket in the wardrobe will they now’ I retorted. Who’d have thought I could repurpose that cane laundry basket so effectively? Took some dexterity to Tetris pack the toaster, electric jug, bathroom scales, soggy towels, toiletries, bathmats, bins, and loo cleaners into that basket. A great deal longer to get ’em out too. Three times for three open houses.
Speaking of toast…
Did I bake the bread, grind the coffee beans, or spritz the house with vanilla as the guides tell us? Heck no! Since COVID lockdown you may have been Instagramming your perfectly home-baked bread loaves, but faffing with dough and beans is just not my schtick. Instead, a few bunches of non-smelling roses, one subtlely fragranced candle and a bunch of green apples so as not to insult the olfactories of sensitive punters, done, the pub beckons!
Hear me, real-estate gods…
Well, the marathon results led to a sprint to the finish line, and on auction day we sold. I’m sad for it’s the close of a 12-year chapter, I’m bitter-sweet for I’m sure I could have sold for more but it’s an aging building with ridiculous Body Corp fees and a crazily temperamental solo lift, and I’m happy as the sliver fox will be joining me in the next exciting chapter. Now to packing up and renting while I wait for my beautiful new apartment to be finished – stay tuned! Meanwhile, will be off the air for a few weeks. Stay safe lovely friends.
figuratively. And now to 2021…
My power word forces me to consciously:
