Back To Where We Were

The man who was negotiating the sale of the house for us is ready to send in his bill. His work here is done. Seeing as how the purchasers melted away- and he didn't do that good a job anyway- he's offered to reduce his fee by half- which is decent of him. I regret the house in Hastings- which seemed like it was ours- but now- barring unforeseen developments- never will be. The sadness mainly hits me in the late afternoons.

I jolly myself along with housework. Yesterday I rolled up my trouser legs as if going for a paddle and scrubbed the shower like it has never been scrubbed before.  Today I cleaned the hearth in the living room and polished the kitchen table. 

We have home improvements lined up. Tomorrow we're taking possession of a new dishwasher- and there's a plumber coming round to size and price up a complete refit of the bathroom. While he's here he might also like to change a few washers. We'd put a lot of things on hold because of the projected move- but now we're back in the groove.