I can't remember a time when it was easy to move out of a house, no matter how long we were living in it. Some places we rented, we had to meet very strict exit inspections to be able to get our deposits back or, once, even leave at all. One spring we rented a house in Barstow for two months, even while the owner was performing a flip on it (we were desperate, and rentals there suuuuucked). We left that house better than we found it, not just because she had done work flipping, but because I was bored the whole two months, and cleaned like crazy, on the old grout in the kitchen and the used appliances the owner bought (I made that nasty stove look brand new). Leaving the last house in New Mexico was a bigger deal, not because we had a property manager to deal with, but because we were trying to sell. We did so many repairs, of things that were in failing condition when we moved in that we ignored for years, and we upgraded things I had dreamed of having the whole time. I can't tell you how sad it made me to wish for beautiful quartz counter tops for three years, and only get them a few months before I moved out. I was okay with waiting for new carpets until we were on our way out, all things (and all pets) considered. It's the same thing we'll do here, as soon as we can wrangle the herd out of here.
We are in that stage of this move out now. My man went to Lowe's to buy glue. Glue. A four dollar item. Over the course of the next few hours, he came home with a replacement closet system for our second guest bedroom, two much larger ceiling fans, and eventually, an enormous ten foot aluminum ladder, that dwarfed the room and made him look like a little kid scaling it. But no glue, unless he remembered it on the trip back to get the bigger ladder. We didn't necessarily have to replace the old shiny brass ceiling fans to be able to sell this house, but by doing it we create an impression that things are updated and new and move-in ready. And really, that is what will sell. And I'm sure it was fun for him to climb around and prove that gravity means nothing to him. I prefer my feet to stay on the ground, and he dances around on the ceiling. It may not be fair, but at least we each know where we are comfortable. I just take pictures from below to add to my ever-growing photo album of The Boy and His Ladder. (Although, now that there are four of them, I should say "Ladders.")
We had another rain delay on the outdoor project, so we made the most of it and worked inside. I've boxed up another third of my wardrobe, and consolidated down into one of my two dressers. Once we have finished staging and photographing our room, we can start emptying it in earnest. The former office/second guest bedroom is in the same state of transition. The man removed a useless built-in desk from the closet, and we will replace that with normal shelves and clothes hanging bar. I cannot believe how many boxes have come out of there, and gone to the garage, and it still looks like a war zone. I don't know how we will ever get to the point of staging and photographing it. No amount of emptying ever seems to make a difference.
We saw a few more listings from out West, but so far nothing really feels like our next house. There were some contenders over the last month, but until that condo is sold, we can't even pretend to make an offer on anything. So out I will go next week, to prep it for sale. I need to be present when the new appliances are delivered. Once again, we are upgrading and making a house beautifully move-in ready for the next owners. It sure would be nice to have someone do this for us.
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