For the first weekend in a while, I’m not going up to work in the mountains. The tiny cabin can do without me for a little while. I stayed back and gave another stab at my actual profession, holding the first of two open houses this weekend.
Today’s house was different than most of them I’ve shown. It was built in the late 70s, and still had a strong 70s vibe in a lot of it. The sellers put their money where all the conventional wisdom says to spend it, in a well done kitchen and baths, but left up paneled walls and dated railings. It’s hard for me to say whether the right buyer came through today. There were a couple who seemed like brave souls, who could tackle the outdated parts of this house, plus a little deferred maintenance on the yard (an overgrowth of Virginia creeper, for one, and a large dead tree in the corner of the lot). I tried to be encouraging, so we shall see whether an offer comes through.
There was modest foot traffic, with maybe 7-8 groups total in 2 hours. I had a few moments of silence to write some notes to myself for the story under development and to catch sight of a large grasshopper on the window, chewing industriously on a leaf stuck to the glass. He ignored me at first, or just didn’t see me until I was trying for a third time to get a good picture of him. Then he seemed to startle and carefully move away from the leaf, never taking his buggy gaze off me until I walked away.
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