Done deed.

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.