Well it looks like we're going to have to learn Welsh. Or at the very least how to pronounce the Welsh place names.
We got the call from our estate agent today. We had our first offer. After a little discussion we refused it. They immediately came back with a better one - so long as the house came off the market and no more viewings. Fine by me. No more picking up Joe's socks or praying that George stays asleep while they're in the house (and doesn't take a visit to the litter tray). So offer accepted. Then an hour of pacing the floor. Wondering what to do next. Solicitor sorted. Offer confirmed with the Wales house. And Stu has already picked the ceiling rose for the front room. It does seem that it has all happened very fast. But for us it has been a long time coming. Months of browsing Rightmove for just the right house - at the right price. Assuming all goes to plan (surveys etc.), we will be moving to a four bed house that has a name not a number. In fact I have no idea what the road name is. It has a paddock, solar panels, wood burner for hot water and heating, a vegetable garden, views for miles (on a clear day), plenty of parking and only one nearby neighbour. It sits just outside the hamlet / village of Betws Gwerfil Goch. Approximately one hour thirty from our current home. Just down the road (particularly when you consider that where we stay in Norway it is a one hour drive for a pint of milk). And four miles from the nearest town (Corwen). It needs a lot of Stu's handiwork. But equally we can move straight in and live quite happily as it is. But for those who know us well - it's more likely that we'll have walls stripped (wood chip wallpaper!) within the first week. I can't wait to get started. Today's photos: estate agent images of the kitchen.
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DebbieMe, my life, my family and my travels Archives
November 2022
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