I have nothing substantive to say.
I know — can it be? But it’s true. Yesterday was a whirlwind of neighborhoods and choices. Getting to know our agent, her getting to know us.
And it was Victoria Day. (You all celebrated, right?) Celebration of the queen’s May 24 birthday. Many offices were closed. The karma was strange.
Our agent was most perturbed to find that at three of the houses she’d scheduled to show us, people were at home. Which she says almost never happens to her, let alone thrice in one day.
At one house, we poked around, then wondered at the light on the coffee pot and the fresh cigarette smoke hanging in the air (no, really). Then we heard the hair dryer running upstairs. Too weird, so we snuck back out. Fortunately we’d seen enough to know we didn’t like it — or rather, we didn’t like the big oil-pumping rigs parked across the street.
Then there was the house where some enterprising but misguided soul had sealed the garage door and drywalled it to make another room — windowless and reached only by passing through the laundry room. This was listed as a “custom upgrade.”
The house we liked best is in a lovely location with an amazing deck off the master bedroom, but an unfortunate urine smell in the upstairs rooms.
It’s been a while since we’ve done the good, bad and ugly house tour. But our agent promises today will be better — that we’re going to what she thinks we’ll like and we’re ready to be in her hands.
No promised fireworks over the Parliament Building last night, due to the steady rain. But it looks lovely lit up at night.