Eventful Times

Last weekend was eventful! (Is that why it's taken me a week to recover enough to write about it?)

On Saturday, we went to see a house. There are, of course, pandemic rules for house viewings:

• Only two people; no children.
• Only fifteen minutes.
• Masks and gloves must be worn; no touching anything. (The agent was permitted to open cupboards, turn on taps, etc.)

I took my mother, because if you can count on her for one thing, it's to find what's wrong with something. I wiped down my passenger seat and she masked up to ride with me. The children gave me orders to do a video walkthrough so they could see everything.

In short, the house was lovely. I really want a spare room so people can come and stay with us, but I'm trying to buy a four bedroom house on a three bedroom house budget. This house was far and away the best I've seen—its price brought down by a less desirable location but one that's convenient for us.

Because of the stamp duty holiday, we were buying in a competitive market, so I offered the asking price for the house as quickly as possible—the only thing I negotiated on was asking them to leave the cooker. It's possible the sellers would have sold it for less, but I would rather pay more than I strictly needed to than risk losing the house because somebody else offered the asking price.

Somebody else did offer the asking price, which led to a fairly frantic Sunday of me proving my finances to the agents in every way I could think of. The kids' Dad even emailed them for me. I have to say, as much as I struggle with our estranged relationship, I'm inexpressibly grateful that I can count on him for this sort of support.

Fortunately, while the other buyer was in a better position than I was, they wanted the house for a second home, and the sellers preferred to sell to somebody local. Once they were satisfied I could definitely afford the house, they accepted us, as announced thus by the estate agent:

"Well, the bad news is... that you've got to pack everything up in a few months!"

I could have cheerfully killed him for that, but as there's a big gap between accepting an offer and exchanging contracts, I refrained from homicide. One in three house sales falls through after this point, so we're touching wood while the seller looks for a property of their own and while my conveyancer checks that there are no hidden issues with the sale.

But for Sunday night, we could celebrate our own news, although the stress didn't end there. My brother and his wife were supposed to be having a baby on Sunday or Monday, but it wasn't until Tuesday night that they brought their son into the world. They're still all the way in the States, so I don't know when I'll get to hold my new and ridiculously cute nephew, but I'm officially an aunt again!

Celebrations all round! And a much needed pick-me-up for the start of a summer holiday where I wasn't sure what we would be doing. Now, we've got a project to focus on. After the transatlantic move last year, this move of five miles down the road seems like a fun little time-killer—and when the stress hits, we have a steady influx of adorable baby pictures and videos to coo over.