Rob took his sofa, box spring and mattress with him so there was much scrambling this morning to find approximations of living room and bedroom furniture.
Haig and Ann loaned me their inflatable mattress, which has a slow leak, but held out for the two-hours. I dragged my formerly beloved and mistreated Art Deco armchairs out of the basement and screwed the loose pieces back on.
Vallee, who lives across the street had offered a painful assessment of the house a few days ago, when there had been no offers after a week and a bit. "Austere" was the gist of it. Too white, too bare, needs rugs, light the fireplace and candles, do some seduction. When the neighbor is an interior designer, I figure it's probably a good idea to listen.
So I went a bit rug-crazy. One from the rug store, two from the auction, one from a thrift shop, and I even brought over our living room rug. Vallee gave me the pretty candlesticks.
The result: lots of compliments at the open house and a couple of people very interested, I'm told. Will there be any more offers? Will it matter? Who knows? What do you think?
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