This morning was nerve-wracking; something went wrong and I didn't know I was live on air until a voice in my ear shouted "START TALKING." So I did, and as you saw the place is looking fabulous.
Sunday is getting too close for comfort and of course I am getting worried. I worry about most things I can't control. I keep reassuring myself that I only need one real buyer and everything will be all right.
Thankfully I've had a lot of help. Toms River is a great little town, and everyone we've met has been so kind to us. We've been running everyone ragged with all of our schemes and they just keep surprising us with their kindness.
Probably the nicest person in Toms River and maybe the whole state of New Jersey, is Elizabeth Engle of Keller William Realty, the broker working with the Freunds. I can't thank her enough for all her help.
If you were out and about in Toms River earlier today you may have seen me being yelled at outside your local Target store. I was trying to put one of our signs up but the staff weren't happy.
If you didn't see me, perhaps you saw my colleague, Lauren, being blown off a traffic island by a particularly violent gust of wind. How are we supposed to put signs around the town when even Mother Nature herself stands in our way?
I've been staring at my newly constructed bid box for the last hour imagining it full of bids.
Back in the office the team have been trying to find cleaners who are willing work this Saturday for very little pay and for a very long time. Who knew something so simple could take so long?
There isn't a cleaner in Toms River who isn't either booked up or willing to work weekends. As a last resort we are have placed an ad on Craigslist asking for anyone willing to clean.
To add insult to injury, late Friday afternoon, I told Caryn she has to find me a DJ by Sunday morning.
Simon thought he was finally done with those signs but I rattled him back into action this morning. He made his 43rd trip of the week to Kinkos and had another 200 flyers made. I fear if I say the word "sign" to him one more time, he'll (re)sign.
Meanwhile, I must replace my 12-year-old alarm clock.
My husband, Bill, had the treat of a lifetime this morning when my curvaceous make-up lady, Kim, crept into our bedroom and roused us from our slumbers. It was 4:15AM, but Bill thought it was worth it.
Sept. 29 --
Question: How do you sell a house that has been used and abused by a family with three boys, two fluffy cats, and thousands of memories over three decades?
Answer: You stage it!
People don't want to see somebody else's house, they want to see their own future house and, as sensitively as possible, we had to remove Cliff, Ginny, the boys, and the imprint of those cats from Deer Hollow Drive.
We put ourselves in the place of the buyer. Who are they and what are they looking for? This is a family neighborhood, and the house has plenty of bedrooms so chances are it would be attractive to a young couple/family.
With this information in mind we set about invigorating this ol' house.
Last night the brokers outdid themselves offering the services of their families as well as their own. Fifteen people worked their fingers to the bone till 9 p.m. getting the place straight.
The son's room has been stripped of all its masculinity and painted a bright and breezy yellow. Lamps now sit neatly atop bedside tables, and a cute valance frames the bed.