They leaned against a white pickup. Cleaning supplies were piled on the front step. One woman had a phone to her ear. The other was good to chat.

“So,” I said, “getting ready to list it?”

“That’s what the realtor wants,” she answered. “But we’re not going back in there without hazmat suits. You wouldn’t believe the black mould. I can smell it out here.”

The Old Town house is quaint and unique. But it hasn’t been occupied for years. Now I hear it’s an estate sale. On MLS soon.

Given its location — even with mould forcing a total gut (or worse) — the ask may be close to $2 million.

In other words, more than enough to justify getting those ladies N95 masks and shapely rubber bodysuits.

It’s a weird time in NOTL. The trends mentioned here recently continue. Listings are way up. Sales are staggering.

In the last 90 days, virtually nothing sold for more than $1.5 million. The average house takes over 100 days to get an offer — and six in ten are conditional on the buyer being able to sell.

There’s a year or two of inventory at the top end of the market, nine months on average in NOTL (way less in St. Catharines). Yet, prices are stuck. Sellers won’t budge.

Listings in Niagara are up about 60 per cent. Sales are down from long-term trends by a third.

Last month, more folks were trying to sell their house than ever before — 3,294 of them. Only 488 got offers. Just 24 of those are in NOTL. And most of those were below a million.

So what does this tell us?

First, we’re special. Of course. Price reductions are so, you know … Milton or Burlington.

No burg with a Lord Mayor, an endless bevy of brides or 48 gelato parlours need stoop to that level. Sniff.

Second, how can there be a housing crisis when we’re awash in places for sale?

As veteran broker Patrick Burke reminded me a few days ago, there’s a slew of places on the block not only available but, like the icky mould house, empty. Nobody lives there.

“Would you believe 30 per cent of the houses for sale in Niagara are vacant? There are estate sales, rentals not being rented, people who have moved and bought another house — a huge number. That’s here … so what does that look like in K-W, for example? Across the GTA?”

Yes, he says, houses are unaffordable.

“Asking prices are out of whack — there’s a busload of them.”

People are also waiting for interest rates to drop even more. But there’s also a crisis of expectations.

“People go into a house and if it’s not shiny and perfect, it’s not worth anything to them. Gone are the days when you could leave the bed unmade or dishes in the sink.”

Third, there’s some fear in the air.

Maybe it’s Trump. Maybe AI eating jobs. More likely it’s that people have pickled themselves in debt, have a small coronary when they hit the grocery checkout and an evil boss announced they must be back in the office two days a week.

Yes, car, gas and daycare. More overhead. Who can afford that?

Lately, the economic indicators have been all green. Inflation down. Rates down. Jobs steady. Markets up. No recession.

Despite that, surveys find 63 per cent of Canadians think we have a poor economy.

“What we’ve seen is the anger quotient has hit a new record,” says my pollster pal Nik Nanos.

He found a scant 11 per cent of people are optimistic. Two-thirds are pissed.

It’s a recipe for political change. But not for cheaper houses. Mouldy or otherwise.