Barbara's Blog: Can St. Joseph Help Sell House?

ByABC News via logo
September 28, 2006, 8:44 AM

Sept. 29, 2006 — -- 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?

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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 afamily with three boys, two fluffy cats, and thousands of memories over threedecades?

Answer: You stage it!
People don't want to see somebody else's house, they want to see theirown future house and, as sensitively as possible, we had to removeCliff, Ginny, the boys, and the imprint of those cats from Deer HollowDrive.

We put ourselves in the place of the buyer. Who are they and what arethey looking for? This is a family neighborhood, and the house hasplenty of bedrooms so chances are it would be attractive to ayoung couple/family.

With this information in mind we set about invigorating this ol' house.

Last night the brokers outdid themselves offering the services oftheir families as well as their own. Fifteen people worked their fingers tothe bone till 9 p.m. getting the place straight.

The son's room has been stripped of all its masculinity and painted abright and breezy yellow. Lamps now sit neatly atop bedside tables,and a cute valance frames the bed.

Whilst things were going swimmingly indoors, the exterior of the housewas an entirely different story. The cracks between the bricks outdoorswere something of an eyesore, so Lauren thought a daubing of cementmight make them look a bit cleaner.

Unfortunately, half the cement ended up on the bricks rather than between them. In a panic, we thought a splash of white paint might mend the damage, but through a series of miscommunications the brokers ended up painting everything white -- every step, every square inch of patio and driveway, and every pathconnecting them.

Instead of a fresh-looking house, we now have ablinding reproduction of Santa's homeland in the middle of New Jersey.

The remedy we have come up with is to wait for the white paint to drythen repaint everything a more acceptable tan color. I dread to thinkwhat the neighbors must be thinking.

Other than this slight setback, things are proceeding according toplan. The kitchen is spotless and entirely de-cluttered. We hung athree-tiered fruit bowl from the ceiling and filled it with the freshest-looking fruit we could find.

Every room has a bunch of flowers, and thebathroom and kitchen have been recaulked.