It’s 13 weeks since our initial meeting with the Letting Agent, and it’s the day the tenants are moving in. I’ve had two more sets of keys cut for them and I feel I’d like to be there to wish them well, but the agent said they would take care of everything.
The last two weeks I’ve been frantically trying to get the garden ship-shape, despite it being the longest heatwave since 1976! Three more bags of garden rubbish were ready for collection yesterday, and my last job before leaving was to wash the kitchen floor. My husband thinks I’m silly, and I know my sons would laugh – they always thought it was funny that it was always the last job I would do before we set off on holiday.
A few weeks ago, I felt a weird sense of satisfaction when the removal men said they’d noticed that I’d cleaned the top of the wardrobes they were collecting from us. I know what you’re thinking, but I have “got a life” – and it’s time to get back to it!
It’s been physically exhausting at times, and sometimes emotionally difficult. The saddest thing is not being able to talk about it with Mum but, when she understood the world around her, she always said we should let her house for rent after she’d gone. Well, we’re stretching the meaning of “gone” a little but feel sure she would approve of what we’re doing.
We can’t expect much of a profit this month as the agent will take 75% of the first month’s rent. After that, they will take 12% monthly. What we’re left with will only pay for one week in four of the care home fees we’re trying to meet, but we’ll give it a try for a year and see how things work out.