The Day Has Arrived

Today, one chapter closes and yet another opens - that's life. And with those deep and meaningful philosophical musings out the way, I will tend to other thoughts....

For those who do not know, these past two and a half years have been spent living a dream - to live and immerse oneself in another country for at least a year - I have spoken about this dream before. Today, this particular dream ends and we commence the journey home to our native Australia - before indulging in a childhood dream of going to Disneyland.

We are merely tourists now. Prematurely, in the midst of psychological displacement concerning ones whereabouts, I entered into a museum guest book, under the heading of address "Australia". I have no address there as yet, but we had recently sold our family home and I was confused as to where I belonged. Do I belong in Australia? I don't know, we'll have to see. I have felt displaced for so long, and have spoken about this in the past also.

One thing is for sure, I am ready to settle - ready to commit to a locale, a residence, a community and a people - home is where you make it. Is it not, and under such pretenses, Canada....or more precisely, Ladner, British Columbia - quietly poised on the Fraser River Delta, has been home for us for the past two and a half years. Our children have grown up there, we have made some very good friends there, we have had experiences there that we would not have had otherwise. We laboured over a rotten house and made it respectable. I am going to miss the friends I have made and I am also going to miss the land.

On Friday I attempted to taken in the surroundings of Ladner one last time. It was Mister's last day of school and all my errands had been done, Missy Mopps and I had only to kill time before picking Mister up from school. It was a bright Fall day, clear blue skies and a fresh breeze that stung my cheeks. We meandered along the school route alley way that ran behind our old place, the poplar trees had recntly dropped a million leaves; it was like walking upon a thick golden carpet. I sighed and said "thank you", acknowledging the uniqueness of the moment.

Yesterday we had a terrible wind storm. The power was out from 6:30am until 10:30 am. We could hear things being tossed about in the gale. Early in the piece, curiosity got the better of me and I ventured out from under my cosy bundle of blankets to witness the trail of destruction first hand. Neighbouring trees bent unnaturally, in the wind; autumn leaves whirled frantically against the fury of the wind, like panicked villagers scrambling for cover admist a surprise ambushing by henchmen and plunderers, while low dark clouds raced across the sky like a team of wild horses. It was a delight upon the eyes and all I could do was stare in wonder.

I had hoped we might yet experience one last snow, but we are leaving just a tad too early, but if I allow myself some quiet time, I can see the white world outside that, which was once my window, and I can hear the dry crunch of snow and ice under my heavy boots as I walked, and the eerie stillness of a land shrouded in a cold blanket - the memory goes with me.

The lush green of this land; its vibrant boating and fishing community; the birds, particularly the geese and mallards, I will sorely miss. In the stifling heat of an dry Adelaidian summer, I have these images to reflect upon, and only experience will tell me if these thoughts, under such opposing conditions, become points of torture or relief - nonetheless, I am grateful of these experiences; of the opportunity to discover and live these moments and to take away these and many more memories. I will miss Canada, and hope to return one day soon, but for now, goodbye and thankyou.

the results are in

Okay. Here are the photos after the stager finished her handiwork. Most of house was a mish mash of bits and pieces that were struggling to fill the space provided. The lounge room literally only had a couple of sofas in it and that was it, as you can see from this first picture.

I was quite happy to have a stager come in and do something with the area, since we aren't into buying more stuff mode, what with the move back and all, and the lounge room is the first room one arrives to upon entering the house, so it is important to make a good first impression.

Anyway, the whole point of staging is to draw attention to the house, rather than the things in it, or the ugly wall paper; hideous overly mirrored walls and dog piss stained carpet...as was the case when we bought this house. Yes, the aim is to give it enough that a potential buyer can see themselves living in the space, rather than picking up the owners vibe i.e staring at their wedding photos; checking out the diplomas on the wall and the books in their book case etc. It all has to be inviting, pleasant and reasonably impersonal.

The stager was actually at our place for a good four hours, which surprised me. The other surprise was that she not only did the one room, like she said she would, but she added a couple of bits and pieces to most of the room to tie it all in (I guess so people weren't immediately struck by how one room looked suspiciously lovely while the others looked so so).

The stager used many of our own things, but arranged them in different ways. She mostly added lamps and pictures to our vacant walls, and added a few other decorative pieces.

In the end the changes she made were quite subtle, but made a dramatic impact. She brought in the ottoman for the living room, which gave the room a great grown up look - that room was formally dominated by the kids and their stuff.

She also gave us a kitchen table which is not pictured here. She moved our own table into a space in the lounge room to make it into a formal dining room (pictured here). The kitchen table she gave us is a little rectangle one which gives our kitchen a look of so much more space. She did a really good job.

I think the biggest surprise came from Ashley's reaction. He wasn't sold on the stager idea. In true blokey fashion, he couldn't really see the point and did not appreciate the potential power of soft furnishings and a few well chosen pieces of furniture, but he was suitably impressed.... I am glad, because I just kind of said "we are doing this" and this was it.

To answer Muses query, the kids were great about the new furniture and stuff. The stager didn't touch their rooms, which was good. It is all a bit of a novelty stillm so they are presently respecting the rules about the new things. I do know, the longer the place takes to sell, the harder it will be to maintain the pristine look, so I am praying that it sells quickly so we can give this stuff back and get back to being the uncultured slobs we normally are, ha!

pre-wedding jitters..kind of

I took my daughter to ballet this morning, and upon my return was shocked to see a for sale sign leering at me on my front lawn - forgot about that bit. I feel a bit of the ole panic stations setting in and I am not really sure why. I am as nervous as crap, like I am staging an event or a wedding or some such theatrical performance where timing and atmosphere and all that was rehearsed must go according to plan or risk a bout of luke-warm reviews from potential ticket holders, or grumblings from the disgruntled guests who brought the expensive presents.

Speaking of staging, a friend offered to have the kids while the stager was here; she is here now. I asked her what I could do, but she shooed me away and told me to relax and make myself a cuppa. I must say, I feel entirely useless and don't really know what to do with myself (typical), so I thought I would blog instead. I could read a book I guess, but I don't think I could concentrate anyway. I promise I will post a piccie of the staged room in the next post.

I just hope the place sells quickly. We have been slaving away like who knows what trying to get this place looking like a vogue magazine on a TV week budget. I have ditched piles of stuff...one really doesn't need a whole lot to get on in this world, so why cart a whole lot of useless stuff around the globe only to have it sit there gathering dust readying itself for its next international voyage (God forbid).

Yesterday I stumbled upon a pile of suspicious looking folders. Upon opening them I found they were in fact my entire catalogue of school report cards from 1979-1990 (shudder). I remember my Mum giving them to me one time when she moved, but I don't think I have ever read them. Of course that led me to waste the next two hours as I scanned the horrors of my early academic history.

Actually it was a bit of an eye opener to read them all at once. There were some definite themes that perhaps should have been addressed: "struggles to comprehend written instructions", "extremely slow at working things out", "gets frustrated", "makes silly errors", day dreams", "needs to listen more carefully", "careless". I have long wondered if I am actually dyslexic, as such themes have continued to be issues for me - particularly the comprehension aspects. I tend to have a private panic attack whenever a timed written comprehension test is presented as part of a recruitment drive. Time and time again, this will be the part in the test that sees me exited from the program. But then again, what good is worrying about that now - the horse has bolted so to speak, and this is who I am - stick to what you are good at kiddo!

Let the show begin

Had a talk with the home stager today. I was expecting her to be all pretentious; turning up her nose at our very humble abode, while then preceding to pick the shit out of it, after which she might nominate our modest digs for a spot on Canada's Most Sad Arse Interiors...or something along those lines, but alas, I was rather wrong.

The stager was very thankful that ours was a vacant look problem, rather than hordersville.

Basically she told us that she could work with most of what we already had, move our lounge suite and dining table around a bit, add a kitchen table, coffee table here, some side tables there, lamps and a couple of trinkets and "done". I was really surprised. She was rather complimentary really - wanted to know who chose our paint colours - "moi", I said, batting my eyelashes. She reckoned they were great. Also said she wouldn't change a thing upstairs, and even gave some good practical hints for when selling a home; such as always remembering to put out white towels, because it make the room look cleaner; take all personal effects of the bathroom counters, dunny lid down; remove everything from magnetic from the front of the fridge; let the drapes hang to the sides, rather than tying them back, for an updated look, etc...

The cost for her services seemed very reasonable too, so I think we are going to go for it. I might even post a before and after picture when it is done, so you can see what you think - (silence will suggest "me no like"). Anyway, I just hope ME like, and potential buyers like!

We might even put the house on the market a week earlier to get a head start before the new school year stalls proceedings a little, but then again, there is a baseball grand final taking place on our street next weekend, so that might not make the best impression...we make the final decision tomorrow.

I am actually feeling a little nervous about the big sale. I think because once the house is sold, then we are officially moving back. In a way, up until the official sale of our home, we always have the option of changing our minds...not that we are in two minds about our decision to move back. I guess it is more the fact that our Canadian experience will officially be over, and as I have said before: I already fear that I will wake up one morning and think, "hey, did that really happen? Did I really live in Canada for nearly 3 years?" It seems I am already dreading that moment, and I feel I am trying to scramble at something intangible that will hold this experience in me, but I am not sure what it is that I can take or grasp; souvenirs and stuff don't quite cut it. So how DO I absorb the essence of my experience here, and hold it forever? Perhaps I already have, time will tell.