A Man of Property

I will admit I was skeptical, but those Real Estate agents really know their stuff. We followed all the sprucing-up advice — commands, really — given by our Realtor and… well, see for yourself the stunning transformation of our humble little shack into a veritable Dream Palace:

Amazing what a slap of paint here and there will do. The only way it could be improved is if it were made out of Legos™.

It’s too rainy this weekend to hold our “moving sale,” and so we will postpone reducing our tonnage until the next clement Saturday. I wonder if anyone has actually sold their house to a moving sale customer? It’s not impossible, you know. We’ll stick a price label on the siding just in case.

Say, Friend, if you’d like to gawk at the interior of our “stately colonial,” please help yourself to a hearty click on the words I PEER WITH UNBLINKING EYES THROUGH YOUR WINDOW.

Wanna House?

Need a house? I have one for you. The Realtor listed it yesterday afternoon and already people are tromping through. If you’ve endured the whole house-sale incursion experience, then you know what it’s like. If not, not. I won’t burden you with my bellyaching.

We have been using Google Streetview along with listings from our L.A. Realtor to view possible new abodes in Woodland Hills, Encino, Thousand Oaks and suchlike places. The sticker-shock is tolerable, I guess, but I just hope that the next time I go shootin’ at some food, up from the ground will come a bubblin’ crude.