Well. It’s all over Red Rover. We are now one house and several megatons of stress lighter.
For a while there it seemed things were set to end not with a bang but with that damned proverbial whimper. Our five likely bidders dwindled to a measly two over the course of the day. One couldn’t get their finances in time, another was in floods over the phone; one simply vanished from the face of the earth. What promised to be a jolly old bunfight was more an embarrassed cough in an auction room long on seats and short on bums. A few people sat around on their hands and with their eyes averted, trying to be invisible. It looked like a group therapy gathering for the chronically absent.
BUT! The auctioneer was wonderful, chatting them up, teasing them, cajoling them. The bidders found their voices, had a polite grapple and we achieved a sum almost exactly midway between our best and worst estimates. We were happy!
So, in terms of the Regency Wreck… Thunderbirds are Go!!!
Yesterday we interviewed a builder and the talk on the street is that he will start in a week’s time.
We are now on the hunt for somewhere to live for nine months. If anyone knows of a sheltered corner for rent where we might park ourselves, our chattels and The Herberts, do say.