Because I am quite stupid I have decided to sell my house. I don't need too. I just want to move to somewhere a little more vibrant. Somewhere there are shops and people under the age of sixty. Somewhere where potato growing isn't the height of entertainment. I've had plenty of viewers, all declaring love for my humble abode. And my bush-craft. Most viewers are renting or are cash buyers so are in a good position to buy, but they are waiting for prices to fall even further. Like vultures. This housing crash isn't the same as the one in the early nineties - when crippling interest rates coupled with high unemployment forced people to sell; the market was flooded with property and therefore supply outstripped demand. In today's market, supply is limited due to low interest rates and paying off a mortgage is easy peasy so long as you haven't overstretched. It seems to me that the property market is skewered; it is a confusing mix of what are known as 'distress' sales and people like me who just want to move. On Monday I received a very silly offer from a viewer I'd shown round my house twice. I am so cross that even if they come back with a sensible offer I will tell them to stick it [they would obviously be trouble throughout the whole sales process]. Possibly I look distressed? Of course I look distressed! The village shop sells Happy Shopper American Tan tights and the local hair salon is awash with blue rinse. Sigh. My other option is to rent my house out... which is probably the route I'm going to take, because if I do this then I will be quids in. And quite frankly the vultures can go hungry.
Anyhow, this is why I have been quiet of late.