The background: the real estate agent who sold us Marmalade Cottage is sympathetic to the amount of work the place needs, so he's been quietly giving us extra access. So long as we don't do anything to change the place, he figures it doesn't hurt. This has meant we've been able to get the place pest-inspected, take a heap of measurements, and get a plumber and an electrician in for a quote.
Since the place has been empty for so long, and is wearing 50 years of cigarette smoke on its internal walls, we took the opportunity to do some scrubbing. As an afterthought we scattered some sprigs of bay, growing in the backyard, about the house to help with the smell.
The nutcasery: it turns out the daughters of the deceased owner visited the house. Two of them are quite reasonable, the other one is mad. She was, the real estate agent reports, incensed that we'd moved some of the furniture. She also took the appearance of the bay sprigs as a supernatural sign that her late father was turning in his grave! We believe coniptions were had. The poor real estate agent got quite an earful.
Annoyingly, it means our quiet and non-destructive access to our house prior to settlement has now abruptly ceased.
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