Guess what? We still have a house for sale. And believe me when I say that an hour’s notice before a midday showing is getting really, really old.

Our house, along with three billion others in our area, has been on the market since May and no real estate is moving. But the wait is giving me time to get used to the idea of moving. I no longer cry at odd times when I catch a glimpse of the realtor sign, and I’m getting better about not calling things mine: it is not “my kitchen”. Those are not “my rose bushes”. I am taking care of them for someone else.

During school holidays, in between sucking up sleep like the dead, we have been working on this house, a few updates that make it show better. Want to see? Here’s what we have been doing.

In our dining room/front room, there was a wall-length mirror that was cracked and damaged. My dad and brother-in-law helped take it down and replace the drywall.

 

The cat thinks she’s helping.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After.

 

 

 

 

Jenn’s former bedroom, once painted “Satan Red”, is now a neutral cream.

 

 

 

 

 

And then there was the kitchen. I have learned that when you tell people your old oak cabinets look dated, anyone with wooden cabinets will take it personally, even if your cabinets are thirty years old and theirs are five. Regardless, my cabinets needed updating.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I also learned that painting cabinets is much more work than painting walls. I was glad to be done with the job.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

By Christmas Eve, it looked like a new kitchen. Now we just need a buyer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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