(This house was in Green Lake, WI, in 1988.)
We just put our house on the market [please remember - this is a story from 1988! We're not moving!] and I've turned into a housekeeping fanatic. "Lunatic" might be a better word. I've cleaned, I've scrubbed, I've painted the purple bathroom, I've cleaned out closets. Last week the realtor said, "Someone wants to see your house today," and I went into fifth gear with broom, vacuum, and mop, after which my son Fred walked on the carpet with muddy shoes.
Then there's the yard. I sure wish the house had sold when there was snow covering the ground. Now I have to keep the yard as clean and neat as the inside of the house. Fred goes behind me replacing sticks and rocks where he wants them, repairing his forts for his G.I.Joes. I use the hose to water the grass seeds. Fred uses it to make an ocean in my terraced planter.
Maybe it will sell before June, but I think I had better move Fred out ahead of time!
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