There is yet another land agent

coming to look at the property today. 

I am growing increasingly disturbed at the way the company responsible for the execution of the Senior Cat's will is handling all this. Whatever their "processes" need to be this is bordering on the ridiculous.

Part of the problem is undoubtedly that they use a business of some sort in another state to advise them who to engage to sell the property. Oh yes, they assure me that this is done in the best interests of the estate. The problems however are obvious. Interstate companies do not know local areas.

I was supposed to be contacted earlier in the week. I was "advised" to make myself available. Wanting to get things moving I made myself available. There was no contact made by the agents who were supposed to be contacting me. It delayed other things I needed to get on with but I gritted my teeth and kept my claws retracted. 

At the end of the business day I advised the contact at the executor company that no contact had been made. I suggested they go with one or the other of those who had made contact. No, that would not do. They need at least one more "appraisal". They would advise someone else to come and "advised" me to be "available". I went to do some shopping for Middle Cat who is home but unable to leave the house. The agent called me and was at least reasonable enough to suggest the following day. It matters not to such people that this is the weekend. I agreed.

But why? The house has now been "appraised" seven times - this will be the eighth - and "valued" twice. I am under pressure to keep the place ultra-clean and ultra-tidy. Our land agent of choice (the one Middle Cat knows well) has of course seen the house in a state of chaos. It did not bother him. It is what he expected to see when packing was taking place.

On top of all that a friend dropped off some new cleaning materials which she had to remove from a house belonging to an aunt who has gone into a nursing home. There were bags of these - seven garbage bags in all. S... went off on holiday for the next eight weeks leaving a note to say, "Can you pass them on to that church...?" I knew what she meant but I could not rely on Middle Cat to drop them off this time so I sent frantic messages to the lovely person in the office there. An hour later I had a call from D..., the priest. He would come and collect it all for me. 

He arrived and stacked it all in the boot of his car. He told me how pleased everyone was that I was staying in the district. It made me feel a bit better. Now if my BIL and N...have worked out how to get the two big armchairs I don't use to the charity N... works for...  I am taking a deep breath and hoping the executor company will just get on with the job as well.