Our eight legged squatter
Well there’s no turning back. We picked up the keys to the new house on Saturday and took some heart in the estate agent’s parting words of: ‘Well you bought at the right time, prices in the area are going up every day. You got a bargain there.’
It doesn’t feel such a bargain when you go up to the front door and can see someone has tried to break in and when you open the rotting, peeling door dreading the sight of squatters. But luckily for us, this was the only resident in the house.
I made a beeline straight for the garden, mainly because the dog needed a pee, but also because I wanted to take a picture of the dirty old rotting mattress in the garden to show you. I wasn’t sure you’d believe me that I’d really buy a house where the mouldy mattress is the only feature in the garden. But as you can see in this photo, the mattress has had its position of superiority usurped by a mass of angry, rampant brambles. That’s what a protracted, five month purchase time does for your best garden features.
As for the sunny garden I dream of basking in, well if I flattened myself against the fence on the right hand side of the garden…..I reassure myself that it’s February so the sun is still low in the sky. I’m in denial about the fact that the neighbours have built a roof extension so large that we’re unlikely to get much sun in our south facing garden.
Tomorrow we see an architect from Hogarth Architects. Their website makes me drool with anticipation of what they could do for us. We just might need to rob a bank in the process.
Web hits: 908 – nearly the golden 1000
Days until baby arrives: too many
Today’s observation: I miss the bones and sinews in my ankles, and look forward to seeing them again soon. My last pair seem to have been replaced by my grandmother’s.