Realtors contacted. 5 emails went out this afternoon at 1, by 2 PM I'd heard back from all but one of them. Have arranged a series of appointments for next week, starting Tuesday afternoon for them all to come out and look at the house. Sothebys already trying to do a hard sell with me, using Peg's name and career, links to all the NY papers and beyond etc. Didn't start well when he asked for "Mr. King" on the phone but--we'll see. Will ask each to prepare a selling plan and then choose which one seems to be instinctively the right one, but will only sign for 3 mos and see how they do.
House is in good enough shape for realtors to assess, at least. Will do a number on it when it's time for pics.
Latest is the Dynamic Duo Ken and Laurie want to come back, in a week or so. Stay another two weeks. I am toying with the idea of asking Ken to stay here until either the house sells or he finds a place to live. If he can chip in with utilities it would be a comfort to me to know the place isn't empty. Bonnie and Outside Bob will be checking on it/doing mail and so on after I go back home but--still. They will not unearth marvelous things in the lower garden--and my Ken Doll will.
I had a night away in CT last night with my Very Select Reunion group (as I have dubbed them) from high school. 8 of us. Marvelous. And fun. Love them to bits. And I got to spend a night in a big cozy bed with no coyotes baying through the screens trying to get to my throat and other soft bits. The only downside, not counting a 30 mile detour on a dirt road because they were doing something to highway, was dropping my £££ prescription sunglasses onto the tile floor and knocking the stem off, plus the little silver bar that holds it in place that says Burberry or Calvin Klein or Don't Buy These Suckers Again. However, Tom, Peg's fan at Berkshire optical over the mountain has fixed me up with superglue and as soon as I get prescription sent from the UK (closed on Saturdays and Bank Holiday Monday, good old England) he will whip me up a spare pair.
4 packages/boxes mailed off to relatives today, GAP Outlet to buy jeans--have only 1 pair here and it's getting cold here in the mountains--then to West Stockbridge to help Tory pack up her house. I take my hat off. She's leaving--a life. I get it, not just on some level but on every level. Things her mother saved, her aunts and so on. A beautiful house full of beautiful things (i.e. 9 million antique quilts her mother collected) but she's selling the lot. That's the way to do it. An estate sale in 2 weeks. Needless to say I am adding to the pile and heading over there in a truck tomorrow with things I've been dithering about as to keep, ebay, or consignment shop. I have a new favorite category for boxes now: TORY.
I went through 3 folders last night in preparation for scanning: Peg's letters and cards to Odd from 1948-49 and her letters to his parents in Norway. Marvelous stuff. She details every aspect of writing, rehearsing, performance--all so they can understand what she does. One of them slayed me: she wrote to them about what an imposter she felt, how the world is going to suss her out any second, that she's just writing 'plain old ordinary family' stuff and should't be getting all the fame and adulation.
Also did the CONTRACTS file, rather a large one, dating back to 1937. And letters from Peg's mother to Norway, also good, since they also detail what Peg is doing, career-wise (and how adorable Baby Astrid is, so keeping THESE).
Out to dinner last night, out again tonight. I am being well looked-after. But miss my home, and my bed, and husband and son and dog and mates. And my M & S long underwear.
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