We live underneath a power line -- a BIG power line -- and I suppose that residing under such a life-sapping monstrosity would result in a lot of things bad for the Haven Five: nervous tics, uncontrolled swearing, groceries already microwaved and ready to eat within seconds of pulling up the driveway, rotting flesh, etc.
Fortunately, nothing of the kind has happened in our almost three years living in Electromagnetic Hell.
Fortunately, nothing of the kind has happened in our almost three years living in Electromagnetic Hell.
That's good.
But I wonder if some of the 20-odd house hunters who have even remotely considered our house their next abode believe that is what's in store for them and their loved ones should they decide to relocate here.
Through the fall and winter we have been treated with compliments on our lovely property: "Nice home," one has said. "I love the layout," said another. "Do you like having the firepit in the backyard?" queried a nice gentleman who likes the odd backyard barbecue. However, four out of five "satisfied" clients who ended up passing on our house have commented that they don't like the power lines. It's frustrating, considering that one can see them from a mile away. It's not like our house conceals the power lines as people drive up, only to shock and surprise the otherwise contented buyers when they scope out the backyard.
"Whoa! You didn't tell me you had power lines out here!"
"Sorry."
I really don't know what the big deal is, though. Like us, most of the folks in our neighborhood have families, and so far I haven't seen any of our children sprouting third arms or an extra eyeball or two. Even the pets seem normal to me. That chicken we caught last week didn't smell even slightly broiled. But my sense of smell has been off lately. I could have been mistaken.
Well, anyway, as we enter our fourth month as motivated house sellers, we will continue to put the smile on our collective faces and try our best to convince that one lucky house hunter that this already is his or her home sweet home.
But we may have to steer them into the master bath to have a second or even third look at the huge garden tub they can't live without when they begin asking about that buzzing coming from the backyard.
Bill
But I wonder if some of the 20-odd house hunters who have even remotely considered our house their next abode believe that is what's in store for them and their loved ones should they decide to relocate here.
Through the fall and winter we have been treated with compliments on our lovely property: "Nice home," one has said. "I love the layout," said another. "Do you like having the firepit in the backyard?" queried a nice gentleman who likes the odd backyard barbecue. However, four out of five "satisfied" clients who ended up passing on our house have commented that they don't like the power lines. It's frustrating, considering that one can see them from a mile away. It's not like our house conceals the power lines as people drive up, only to shock and surprise the otherwise contented buyers when they scope out the backyard.
"Whoa! You didn't tell me you had power lines out here!"
"Sorry."
I really don't know what the big deal is, though. Like us, most of the folks in our neighborhood have families, and so far I haven't seen any of our children sprouting third arms or an extra eyeball or two. Even the pets seem normal to me. That chicken we caught last week didn't smell even slightly broiled. But my sense of smell has been off lately. I could have been mistaken.
Well, anyway, as we enter our fourth month as motivated house sellers, we will continue to put the smile on our collective faces and try our best to convince that one lucky house hunter that this already is his or her home sweet home.
But we may have to steer them into the master bath to have a second or even third look at the huge garden tub they can't live without when they begin asking about that buzzing coming from the backyard.
Bill
No comments:
Post a Comment