Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Sun Sets on House of Pants

This is the glorious view from House of Pants at dusk. We have another buyer. I dread even to type these words as I am now convinced that the minute I announce even the slightest upturn in my fortunes, that demonic force in which I do not believe but nonetheless seems determined to ruin me, will cast a cloud over my being that will make Frodo the Hobbit's trek to Mount Doom look like a Saga Holiday. Call me hellbent.

Incredibly, after a weekend where the housing market in Britain threatened to crumble into a million little pieces of crazy paving, we have a buyer who has this day paid a large deposit. This is far farther down the line of exchanging the admittedly dinky and gorgeous House of Pants for an unknown wilderness future than I and my purr-petulantly ungrateful hypo-allergenic owly-cat Barney have ever managed before. Perhaps Barney has become the guardian of the ring. That would certainly explain his sudden invisibility when there is any packing to be done.

It all happened quite painlessly that Saturday when I went to see Atonement and Barney was trying to work out whether the owl or cat part of him was better qualified to stalk the new batch of coot chicks that had hatched out in a nest very appropriately built on the remains of a Maclaren push chair that had been dumped into our water feature.

I had resisted deploying the inhumane practice of crowding all potential buyers into the flat and goading them into believing that if they didn't commit to prostituting themselves to the Royal Bank of Sodom for four lifetimes within five minutes of entering the sacred Pants Portal, some other bastard would beat them to it. However it does seem that buyers in London don't feel as if they've bagged themselves a des-res unless they've had to arbitrage a dozen other contenders out of the way.

I feel even more relieved than I did after that unfortunate episode with the faecal furball earlier this year. It takes me a day and a half to get House of Pants into a condition where it is even vaguely habitable and only an hour and a half to trash it to the point where Environmental Health might think about closing us down so you can only imagine the strain it was to keep it clean for weeks of random enquiries. The limited viewing scenario seemed to work well for all concerned. My living quarters only stank of bleach for a day, the agents only had to do two hours work and the buyer felt like she'd won an egg and spoon race.

So the countdown begins again. I look out at these superb September sunsets and reflect on the lovely weekend I've had doing Open House London and the Thames Festival and wonder what my new life will look like. There is trepidation there but I still have one up on Barney. I haven't yet told him there are snakes where we're going. Shhh. Revenge will be sweet...


Reading the Signs said...

Is House of Pants not a place that you can carry with you everywhere? There is good news and poetry in the air and I am happy for you - strange, though, to think of you there rather than here, though here is just as much there in cyberspace. Anyway, this method of selling - I do not think they will do it like that here in the sticks, but I should bear it in mind. Do you have a Date set?

Andrew said...

Well done Pants. It must be a relief. Or mixed feelings?

That's so pants said...

Hi Signs

With the aid of the trusty kodak, every cobweb in House of Pants has a place in posterity. No date yet but I'm aiming for end of December. I suppose that puts me on the same timeline as Santa. I must learn to be less competitive. I recommend the Pandora's Box method. Never mind getting matching walls and curtains. Mystique is what it's all about.

Hi Andrew

There are still about three months worth of panic ahead before relief gets a look in I'm afraid.



Kris said...

oh well, at least you can keep the deposit if it all goes tits up.

phil said...

All best wishes to house of pants and cat.

The bloke who came to repair our pool at the weekend regaled me with a story of a pool he'd done the previous day: quite murky and all, he put his suit and weights on and got in to do whatever it is he does with the walve at the bottom and he saw a rope all curled up on the bottom. "Dirty buggers" he thought and then the rope started to swim away...

Tell you cat that.


That's so pants said...

Hi Phil

Gasp! My Mum has had a black snake in her pool. Fills me with horror but I'll have to learn to live with it. Barney is very much in touch with his owl identity at the moment so does not like to be reminded that he is half cat. He does believe that in a close combat situation, he would have the edge. He has been watching reruns of Under Seige all week on E4 as well.

Hi Kris

I finally get a serious buyer and the economy collapses! Is it just me or does this whole thing suck rather a lot?



R.H. said...

When you get here I'm taking you to All You Can Eat For Ten Dollars.

Have nothing for a few days beforehand, that's what I do. Last time I ate two hundred dollars worth they reckon.

DaveHill said...

Face it. You're trapped here forever! [Exit, stage right, uttering Evil Laugh]

That's so pants said...


I CAN eat $200 worth of food but I would prefer it comprised a bottle of Krug and a doz oysters, if that's OK with you.

Hi Dave

Oh, so that was you!



NMJ said...

hey pants, really hope the house sale pans out and you and barney can get to australia!

. . . but, please, no more talk of black snakes in swimming pools, or i can never come back to your blog!


That's so pants said...


OK. I'm kind of done with snakes myself too. And now that the world economy hasn't collapsed, the owly-cat one and I stand a chance of planning a future, hurrah!



trousers said...

Yes, hope this all works out, it sounds very hopeful.

That's so pants said...

Hi Trews

Thanks. The economy didn't collapse. It's looking good.



R.H. said...

When you said Krug I thought Kruger. Sonia Kruger.
She's forty-two but age won't weary her, only I could do that.

Janejill said...

I am now anxious about your sale as well as my purchase; I am even more anxious about the thought of snakes. I had some in Spain, and once met one on the way to the pool (him, not me - I can't swim) but I was assured they were harmless; so were the pink tarantulas which used to emerge from the logs. Fingers and other things firmly crossed . Yes, I am back x

That's so pants said...

Hi Jane Jill

Miraculously, it all seems to be going fine - thanks. I hope yours is OK too.



Anna MR said...

Hei Pants, I am a little late with my greetings but hoping the sale and the move both go well. You will keep the blog house going, though, I take it?


That's so pants said...

Hei Anna

I'm not decided yet about whether to keep That's So Pants going or start a new blog. It mightn't be so 'pants' where I'm going, then again it just might...



Ann O'Dyne said...

Pants will be DownUnder.

I have been face to face with a fifteen foot rattlesnake.
TRUE. shaking its rattler like mick jagger with maraccas and coiled to strike at a kitten.
the property owner shot it with a pistol and I was still hysterical 5 hours later (actually, maybe 30 years later I am still hysterical).

and above
DaveHill said ... "[Exit, stage right, uttering Evil Laugh]"

when he meant 'Exit stage left ... chased by a snake'

That's so pants said...

Hi Annie

Don't even joke about that.