Notes to the Buyers
Dear Buyers,
Congratulations! You are soon to be the new owners of an 1,840 square foot (not including the finished basement) colonial in a highly desired and constantly revolving neighborhood. This was our first home, both individually and as a couple. We brought three Boston terriers and two children (in that order) home through these doors, and we move on with a lot of excitement and a measure of sadness.
I wanted to leave you a few notes about the place we're leaving behind.
Between the two houses on either side we've had five sets of neighbors. We borrowed a pick-axe from one and a rake we forgot to return from another. The same rake neighbors borrowed eggs from us during a cookie-baking emergency, and we attend each other's kids' birthday parties. I hope you become as fond of them as we are, enjoy some drinks by their fire pit one night, and maybe loan them some sugar sometime. We will miss having them next door to us, and my kiddos will really miss playing with theirs.
Speaking of kids, I hope yours enjoy running up and down the length of the house from the front door, past the kitchen, and to the back windows as much as mine did. The walls are going to miss the sounds of wild giggling and spectacular truck crashes.
By the way, Mr. Clean Magic Erasers will help get rid of the line of toy scuff marks, which you will find grows in height right along with your kids.
That empty spot in the kitchen, between the island and the living room, is where we celebrated with champagne and family the night we got engaged in 2007. It was also where my son took his first wobbly steps the day after his first birthday in 2014.
I was sitting in the adjacent living room when I got the call that my mother had died in February 2007, and I was sitting in virtually the same spot when I got the call that my dad had died in February 2016. The dogwood tree in the front yard was planted in my mom's memory. I didn't plant anything for my dad because there was little I wanted to remember.
The curtain rods I am contractually required to leave in the dining room are probably crooked. It was the first joint project my husband and I embarked on after I moved in, and I was so proud that I only yelled at him a little. I remember feeling like this relationship might last. That was more than 10 years ago.
Sorry about the lights in the foyer. Three "Daylight LED" bulbs seemed like a good idea during waking hours, but at night the hallway is lit up like a creepy morgue. You'll probably have to learn to live with it, as it takes two people standing on an 18-foot ladder a lot of swear words to change it.
Good luck with the pantry, which is somehow the opposite of a TARDIS -- it's so much smaller on the inside. Things in the back get lost forever in there, while simultaneously things in the front are falling out because there's no more room. I pray your family needs less apple juice and snack crackers than we go through every week.
I apologize for the goldfish crackers my 4-year-old just confessed he dropped down the vent in the dining room. Maybe you have a dog that will enjoy the surprise snack one day? If you do, he will love napping in the sunlight that streams through the west-facing windows in that room. All of my furry boys (and both of my children) have spent hours at those windows, watching the world go by.
I'm actually considering buying a small stool to put in front of the (higher) dining room windows in our new house, just so the dog has a good view.
You're welcome for the ceiling fan in the master bedroom. I lived in Texas when my hubs and I first met, and he had just started building the house when we began dating. Unbeknownst to me, he had it installed because in the South we sleep under fans. I asked once what would have happened if our relationship hadn't worked out. He said he didn't know, but I suggested he could have laid under the fan and let it dry his tears.
My hubs installed the fans in the kids' rooms. He's not exactly a handy guy, so to prepare he read many instructions and watched many YouTube videos, none of which mentioned the insulation that would rain down on his bald head and into his eyes and mouth throughout the sweaty installation process. There's a good chance you'll still find bits of it every time you vacuum.
As far as the carpets go, we had the whole house professionally cleaned before we listed, but even they couldn't get the yellow mystery stains out of the living room floor. Your guess is as good as mine.
Also, there's a spot on the floor in front of the master bedroom door, about 18 inches to the left of the top stair, that squeaks. But only at night when you're putting the baby back to bed for the third time. Avoid it if you can.
Wasps and bees are very attracted to the dwarf spruce trees that flank the front stoop, but I couldn't bear to get rid of them because they smell like the East Texas piney woods where I went to college. On the subject of the Lonestar State, I hope you don't rip out the rose bushes in the back yard. I planted them because my mother grew six feet of climbing roses beside each of the front windows at the first house where we lived in Texas. She also accidentally created a giant monster of a banana tree at a different place, but that's a story for another house.
My thoughts are with you if your children knock anything into the deep darkness beneath the 15x20-foot deck. I've had to crawl under at least twice. I recommend knee pads and gloves. If you venture forth, please fetch the giant red ball that's been stuck at the back for two years now. We tried everything.
Watch the deck steps. The city building inspector made sure they're exactly even -- in fact, when the last one was half an inch short he made us rip out and replace them because "people expect equidistant stairs!!" -- but both kids have still managed to fall down them while stone-cold sober. I guess toddlers don't care how equidistant stairs are.
There are multiple humming birds who appear each summer and stare unabashedly into the back windows. In fact, I saw one today. Please remember to feed them. I'm kind of afraid of what will happen to you if you don't. The wildlife around here has no shame.
Regarding the woods that butt up to the back yard: The sun rises right through those woods, and I'm sorely going to miss the dappled sunlight on the emerald grass during long summer mornings. But be advised that the city allows bow hunting during deer season. You'll get a fun letter in the mail telling you that people can only maybe try to shoot you during certain hours, and only from above ground level. That should make you feel better, right? But in the fall, the trees turn colors you've never imagined, and there's nothing as beautiful as new-fallen snow on the bare black branches. I hope you appreciate the sights as much as I did.
This house has been good to us and for us. "Life was lived well within those walls, with love and laughter and gatherings of friends." I wish you many happy years here. Please make it your home.
Sincerely,
Sellers
Congratulations! You are soon to be the new owners of an 1,840 square foot (not including the finished basement) colonial in a highly desired and constantly revolving neighborhood. This was our first home, both individually and as a couple. We brought three Boston terriers and two children (in that order) home through these doors, and we move on with a lot of excitement and a measure of sadness.
I wanted to leave you a few notes about the place we're leaving behind.
Between the two houses on either side we've had five sets of neighbors. We borrowed a pick-axe from one and a rake we forgot to return from another. The same rake neighbors borrowed eggs from us during a cookie-baking emergency, and we attend each other's kids' birthday parties. I hope you become as fond of them as we are, enjoy some drinks by their fire pit one night, and maybe loan them some sugar sometime. We will miss having them next door to us, and my kiddos will really miss playing with theirs.
Speaking of kids, I hope yours enjoy running up and down the length of the house from the front door, past the kitchen, and to the back windows as much as mine did. The walls are going to miss the sounds of wild giggling and spectacular truck crashes.
By the way, Mr. Clean Magic Erasers will help get rid of the line of toy scuff marks, which you will find grows in height right along with your kids.
That empty spot in the kitchen, between the island and the living room, is where we celebrated with champagne and family the night we got engaged in 2007. It was also where my son took his first wobbly steps the day after his first birthday in 2014.
I was sitting in the adjacent living room when I got the call that my mother had died in February 2007, and I was sitting in virtually the same spot when I got the call that my dad had died in February 2016. The dogwood tree in the front yard was planted in my mom's memory. I didn't plant anything for my dad because there was little I wanted to remember.
The curtain rods I am contractually required to leave in the dining room are probably crooked. It was the first joint project my husband and I embarked on after I moved in, and I was so proud that I only yelled at him a little. I remember feeling like this relationship might last. That was more than 10 years ago.
Sorry about the lights in the foyer. Three "Daylight LED" bulbs seemed like a good idea during waking hours, but at night the hallway is lit up like a creepy morgue. You'll probably have to learn to live with it, as it takes two people standing on an 18-foot ladder a lot of swear words to change it.
Good luck with the pantry, which is somehow the opposite of a TARDIS -- it's so much smaller on the inside. Things in the back get lost forever in there, while simultaneously things in the front are falling out because there's no more room. I pray your family needs less apple juice and snack crackers than we go through every week.
I apologize for the goldfish crackers my 4-year-old just confessed he dropped down the vent in the dining room. Maybe you have a dog that will enjoy the surprise snack one day? If you do, he will love napping in the sunlight that streams through the west-facing windows in that room. All of my furry boys (and both of my children) have spent hours at those windows, watching the world go by.
I'm actually considering buying a small stool to put in front of the (higher) dining room windows in our new house, just so the dog has a good view.
You're welcome for the ceiling fan in the master bedroom. I lived in Texas when my hubs and I first met, and he had just started building the house when we began dating. Unbeknownst to me, he had it installed because in the South we sleep under fans. I asked once what would have happened if our relationship hadn't worked out. He said he didn't know, but I suggested he could have laid under the fan and let it dry his tears.
My hubs installed the fans in the kids' rooms. He's not exactly a handy guy, so to prepare he read many instructions and watched many YouTube videos, none of which mentioned the insulation that would rain down on his bald head and into his eyes and mouth throughout the sweaty installation process. There's a good chance you'll still find bits of it every time you vacuum.
As far as the carpets go, we had the whole house professionally cleaned before we listed, but even they couldn't get the yellow mystery stains out of the living room floor. Your guess is as good as mine.
Also, there's a spot on the floor in front of the master bedroom door, about 18 inches to the left of the top stair, that squeaks. But only at night when you're putting the baby back to bed for the third time. Avoid it if you can.
Wasps and bees are very attracted to the dwarf spruce trees that flank the front stoop, but I couldn't bear to get rid of them because they smell like the East Texas piney woods where I went to college. On the subject of the Lonestar State, I hope you don't rip out the rose bushes in the back yard. I planted them because my mother grew six feet of climbing roses beside each of the front windows at the first house where we lived in Texas. She also accidentally created a giant monster of a banana tree at a different place, but that's a story for another house.
My thoughts are with you if your children knock anything into the deep darkness beneath the 15x20-foot deck. I've had to crawl under at least twice. I recommend knee pads and gloves. If you venture forth, please fetch the giant red ball that's been stuck at the back for two years now. We tried everything.
Watch the deck steps. The city building inspector made sure they're exactly even -- in fact, when the last one was half an inch short he made us rip out and replace them because "people expect equidistant stairs!!" -- but both kids have still managed to fall down them while stone-cold sober. I guess toddlers don't care how equidistant stairs are.
There are multiple humming birds who appear each summer and stare unabashedly into the back windows. In fact, I saw one today. Please remember to feed them. I'm kind of afraid of what will happen to you if you don't. The wildlife around here has no shame.
Regarding the woods that butt up to the back yard: The sun rises right through those woods, and I'm sorely going to miss the dappled sunlight on the emerald grass during long summer mornings. But be advised that the city allows bow hunting during deer season. You'll get a fun letter in the mail telling you that people can only maybe try to shoot you during certain hours, and only from above ground level. That should make you feel better, right? But in the fall, the trees turn colors you've never imagined, and there's nothing as beautiful as new-fallen snow on the bare black branches. I hope you appreciate the sights as much as I did.
This house has been good to us and for us. "Life was lived well within those walls, with love and laughter and gatherings of friends." I wish you many happy years here. Please make it your home.
Sincerely,
Sellers
Beautifully said!! A home full of love and growth for all. A new future lies ahead, that will bring laughter tears and a world of love that will mold tbe love and lives of four souls forever. Enjoy your future together.
ReplyDelete"Home is where you go when you run out of home." - John le Carré
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