Orange budda head: It's what's for dinner

Before the paperwork on Saturday our realtor Phyllis walked through each room here to make suggestions on how to best present our space. We watch a lot of HGTV, and we've sold a few houses in our day, so she didn't have a ton of notes, but she did have a few.

We adore Phyllis. More importantly we trust her, and Brett won't make a real estate move without her. But she's not a dog person at all. I think she'd prefer we ship the boys off while we're on the market, but of course that will never happen. I've borrowed a doberman-sized cage from the boys' Uncle Mike, and they'll be hanging out in there in the laundry room during the day. They'll bark like hell, and Phyllis is right when she says that makes people not want to stay, but there's not that much to see in the laundry and after a quick look and a "God those dogs are loud" they can close the door. All this of course when Daddy Brett can't be convinced to take them to the office with him.

The other thing she wanted us to do was to clear the kitchen counters. Of everything. So my utensil crocks, knife block, salt and pepper, and the Kitchen Aid were stowed away. On the island there's usually some dish soap, hand soap, and a big ironstone basin where I toss whatever fruit or vegetables I have around to cook with, which all went under the sink. When we were done you could certainly see there's lots of counter space, but it was a little bit off-putting and stark. Still, she's been right in the past.

At lunch today Brett called and asked where I put everything. Phyllis and the photographer were at home shooting pictures, and sure enough, the kitchen was looking a bit uninhabited. I told him most everything went into the lower cabinets and figured she'd find what she wanted.

We got home from work, and she had found the big utensil crock. Apparently that was all though, so she hunted through the laundry room storage shelves and the cabinet in the entry, and at the other end of the counter was a blue art glass pitcher and my orange Crate & Barrel budda head.

I'm dying to see the pictures. I can't imagine anyone looking won't think "what the hell?"

4 comments:

Toad said...

Best of luck with your sale. I know the tension it causes all too well.

Raina said...

I love that you have a realtor named "Phyllis." If her middle name is "Sylvia," I am going to pass out.

David said...

HA! Phyllis is great. She's from NY originally, and the New York comparisons come fast and furious. Such as "people in Manhattan kill for a terrace like this", or "eh, it's like living in Queens."

But most importantly, if she thinks a property isn't a good investment she tells you, and tells you why. That's the sort of realtor everyone should have.

hello gorgeous said...

I am loving your tags, D.

Keeping fingers crossed for you.