Selling in a Down Market

Well, we finally did it--we put the house on the market. It took months of preparation--downsizing, sorting, and packing things away to unclutter the place, conducting serious negotation over what could go to Goodwill, and removing pictures from the walls that could detract from the archeterctural details of the vaulted ceilings. The windows were professionally washed and all routine maintenance completed in the house(hot tub, sump pump, evaporative cooler, fireplace, windows), the papers duly filled out detailing screened, cedar-lined pation, new roof, new high efficiency furnace, new water heater, and generous concession on the now-aging carpet. The garden was put into perfect shape. Up went the sign--and what happened?

One showing, and that person complained that our appliances weren't stainless steel.
Our real estate agent says no one else will look at the house because we have an industrial grade evaporative cooler rather than central air conditioning (never mind that an evaporative cooler is a good choice for Denver because it puts moisture into the air).

Such, it seems, is the way of selling a house in Denver these days. Apparently, I made the mistake of putting major money into maintenance (I have a binder of everything done to the house and it's thick) rather than glamour.

It's been a number of years since I last sold a house and I must admit I'd forgotten how vulnerable one feels-- and not just because one's furnishinigs are suddenly fair game for comment from people who would never otherwise be inside the house. "Not my style," said the person who wanted stainless steel. I hadn't thought it was about my style, but apparently it is. "It's price wars and a beauty contest," my agent says. Except, I have no idea of what today's buyer considers the criteria for beauty except of course for the stainless stuff.

I suppose this all results from buying a house in a development where there are lots of houses with only a few floor plans to differentiate them. It's like a predator with a school of fish. How do you choose? There they all sit with their standard four to five bedrooms, three to four bathrooms, three-car garages, representing the homeownership we are supposed to mortgage ourselves for and thus declare ourselves having lived the American dream.

Right now, there are approximately thirty houses for sale in our development and those around us. Thirty all roughly the same. I suppose I can't blame the agents and buyers for categorizing the houses in order to get make some sort of order out of chaos. Buyers also have to wonder whether the houses are going to lose value over time. I suppose they want to get as much as they can for as little as possible. It's a given that even with a full price offer, the financial loss on this house will be significant.

I suppose I should look on the loss as the cost of living in the house, which has been comfortable and welcoming. If I'd been renting, the money would have been gone anyway and I'd have nothing to show for it. Perhaps also I should look on the house as a sort of generational endeavor--the people before us did so much (actually they ran it into the ground and unloaded it when it started to give trouble, but no matter), we do so much, and then it's passed on. With this market, untold millions of people are probably trapped in houses they'd love to unload so maybe houses are going to remain in people's hands for longer. If there's a silver lining, maybe the home improvement people will benefit as bored homeowners try to prepare for the next beauty contest.

In the meantime, Sid says he'll check to see if we can change out the fronts on our black appliances to stainless steel.