The termite Gestapo visited the house today, and pronounced it free of wood chewing buglets.  Which is good, because it's a wooden house.  No termites now, no evidence of them being there before, or of them being "treated," aka exterminated, squished, poisoned, sued for criminal trespass, running for political office and retiring in the garden on their ill gotten gains.  Building inspection tomorrow, appraisal in progress, insurance quoted but not finalised, proposed buyers stressed out of their minds, seller promising to waterproof the dungeon, the unfinished part of the basement where the boiler/furnace lives.  Hubby wants to paint the walls of the dungeon black and hang a pair of rusty manacles in there.  I agree with Pat Forhan: if Hubby does that, his decorating privileges are revoked.

In case it's not clear, we put an offer in on a house at the weekend, which was accepted.

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