That’s an auctioneers term (I think). And that’s us right now. Yesterday I got the call from the estate agents that we’ve been waiting for (and hoping for in a very superstitious manner not befitting those of a logical bent). Our buyers are chasing us for a moving date, and it looks like they are fixed on the 31st of May.
The date is ok, as it follows a three day weekend, the weekend before. When we looked at dates, it is one of the “golden” free weekends in June. What can one say, we need to pull our fingers out and get packing. The vans back, I’m cleaning it this evening (this post will follow at around nightfall), and hopefully we’ll have boxes, paints and paraphernalia sorted by 11am tomorrow so can move some stuff and get decorating at my brothers so he can sell up and move to Sweden (but that's entirely different story).
It’s all a bit hard to take in. It does mean however that we won’t be doing anything wild and woolly for yet another few weeks ... and apparently I’m supposed to organise a wedding for some time in late August ... belt and braces and all that ... we’ll need two years off to get over the previous two years (we may have to call our travels the Long Honeymoon).