Cleaning should be done, they know, and probably some painting, but what else? How far should they go to get the house ready?

No sense in hiring a painter yet. First they have to do something with their stuff. Stuff in the closets, the basement and garage, the kids' rooms, the home office. They wonder what they'll do with it all and when they'll find the time to clean it out. They wonder if they should rent a storage space, maybe hire someone to help, rent a truck to move things there.

They think about how they'll find someone to fix the little things they never got around to fixing -- cracked glass, windows that don't open, dripping faucets -- and larger things like the caved-in garage roof, blackberries all over the yard, loose bricks at the top of the chimney.

Should the kitchen be redone? Where would it cost, they wonder, who would they hire to do the work, would they get their money back?

They are concerned about what a termite report will show. And what about disclosures? What will they have to tell the buyer? Water in the basement, surely, but the crazy next door neighbor?

They need to know what the house will sell for and how long it might take to sell. And if they will be buying and moving to another house when they present one is sold, there is another batch of questions.

Where will I move to? At what point do I start looking for a new house? Will I be able to buy something that I want with the money from my old house?

There is a lot to think about here. The parts of the process seem endless, complicated, hard -- which it certainly can be. And sometimes, in the thick of it, people decide that it just isn't worth it to go on. They'll stay where they are.

Which is just what happened to Paul and Jean, a couple in their sixties who called us for help last fall. For 35 years they've enjoyed their big, old 3-story house, raised their children, been friends with their neighbors. But they're older now, climbing the stairs will become harder, the house needs maintenance, and they'd like to live closer to their grandchildren.

"We have questions," Jean said in our first meeting. "We need to know, for instance, if it makes sense for us to put a new roof on now or make it part of the sale negotiations. It has leaked in several spots and winter is coming, but it's going to be an expensive job, and I really don't want to have to deal with the construction noise and mess if I don't have to."
As we toured the house with Jean she pointed out a shower stall that leaks, some worn hardwood floors that she would like to have refinished, rot in windows frames, old carpeting, and many other of her worries. Would they need to clean out the basement entirely? Put the cupboard doors back on the kitchen cabinets, lay linoleum over the soft wood floor?

Paul was not there that day, so Jean passed along his questions. How much will the house sell for? When should they order a termite report? Do we know someone who could be hired to work on the windows?

There is a lot to tell, too much for one sitting. We're sorry to say that the roof must be done, talk about termite reports, tell Jean we'll research the likely selling price and get back to her. And we talk about the overall plan -- establishing their goals, then proceeding. We tell her we must figure out the timing, getting the house ready, deciding on a price, getting it on the market. We must decide if they will move to an interim rental, take their time to look for a new house or stay in their house, rent it from the buyers, while they look.

Over the next six months, we meet with Jean and Paul at the house half a dozen times, talk to them on the phone more often. We've surveyed the market and come up with an estimated price for the house, a price that may be adjusted as the house looks better and as the market changes.
They do have a new roof put on, painting is in progress, and they're pruning and weeding the garden. Paul is working on the windows, carefully carving out dry rot and filling it, in hopes of whittling down the termite bid. We've decided to paint the kitchen and to leave the floor and cabinets as they are. The old carpeting will be replaced.

They've been spending Sundays looking at houses in the town where their son lives and they're worried. Prices are high. The house they now own is, by comparison, so much larger and better, they tell us, than anything they've seen to replace it. There's no point in selling, of course, if they can't buy what they want.

They have the floors refinished in the entry, living and dining rooms and they look marvelous. The clean, new surface seems to brings in more light, and because they had to pack away books and bric-a-brac before the floor people arrived, the rooms are appealingly spare. Jean likes this look a lot.

Things go along like this for another couple of months -- Jean and Paul cleaning out, painting, looking at houses on Sundays, calling us to ask if their house is worth more now. Then a neighbor says he has a friend who may be interested in buying the house and there is a flurry of talk around the subject.

We meet to talk about establishing a price without any market exposure. They want to know if we would be willing to represent both them and the buyer. We won't, so the question now is whether the buyer has his own agent. Would they credit him the termite bid, include the washer and dryer? And when would they agree to give him possession of the house?

Now that they're thinking about it, the idea of selling without having to show the house to a lot of people sounds good to them. But, in the end, the buyer decides the house is not right for him.

We never did get to setting dates for newspaper ads, open houses, and the like. One Monday Jean called. She said that she and Paul had found a house the day before that they thought would work for them. It was close to her son and the price was affordable. But they were sure there would be several offers on it and they just couldn't stand the thought of competing for it and losing.

Besides, their house is looking so nice now, they've decided to stay.