When we first looked around the house across the street it had only been half cleared. Though many of the previous residents’ most personal effects had been removed, heavy 1950s furniture remained, a thick marble slab in the pantry, an empty vase or two on a shelf – things like that.
Opening a cupboard in the master bedroom we found a handwritten sign inside the door ‘Happy Anniversary you gorjus crittur. 55 years of paradise’
So, here we are, the end of the first full day working in the house. I’ve been oven cleaning, scraping old underlay from floorboards and mounting an attack on The Smell (more of which in another post). Nick has been teaching himself how to do the electrics, and it is by mere coincidence that I have put a fire blanket up in the kitchen.
We’ve had the keys for a few days now, but today was our first chance to get in there and get moving. All our worldly possessions arrive tomorrow, so before the chaos begins, I wanted to give you a little tour of the house across the street. Enjoy!
I hadn’t imagined that we would be the people who moved across the road. It had always struck me growing up how odd it was that we lived just two streets away from the house my parents bought before my sister was born – I peered suspiciously into the drive as we passed wondering whether a little more distance would be more comfortable.
Now with children just a little older that we were for that first move, it feels easy to understand.
The place we live – half publess village, half offshoot of the nearby town – is warm and comfortable, full of familiar faces, walkable to preschool, infants, juniors & high school, just about near enough to the train to London. I’m not sure suburbia can be paradise but for what we have in the way of money, and what we need in terms of practicalities even the estate agents we discussed moving with couldn’t find a better suggestion. Paradise or not, there is a place in my heart for our leafy half village, and the people we and our children know and will know for the next 10-15-20 years. And so we stay.