[ Friday, August 12, 2005 ]
It's so ironic.
We've been trying to sell our house. For eight months. We'd been getting more and more discouraged by the array of agents without buyers, or buyers without integrity, that had darkened our door over the long, long waiting period. Then came the nail in the coffin, or so I thought.
Our neighbour, a mechanic, has a derelict car in front of his house. e's been intending for a long time to fix it, but to everyone's eye but his own, it looks, well, derelict. Then suddenly one day, there it was. The derelict had a brother.
I felt my optimism finally beginning to crack. Surely now, with not one, but
two derelict cars, nobody, nobody, would ever buy our house. Little did I suspect the irony about to unfold.
The second derelict had an axle problem. The mechanic called a friend, and asked him if he knew a welder. The friend came over and while inspecting the car, saw the "for sale" sign on our house. The rest, as they say, is history.
Isn't it strange how the very thing that I thought doomed our hous to be forever unsold, turned out to be the very thing that brought a buyer?
Mike [12:10 AM]
