14 June, 2010

Great expectations rarely deliver.


The Great House Hunt has stalled slightly. *lol* We viewed the two properties in Eastcote on Saturday, with slightly disappointing results.

The first of the two was the one I was most excited about, as it boasted a large garden, a conservatory, and three, count them, THREE bedrooms. It would have afforded us the space to dedicate the smallest of the rooms to my burgeoning craft supplies and sewing machine, and still leave a proper guest room for visitors to the House of Gabs. The garden was a blank canvas, completely undeveloped and waiting for a loving touch to bring it to life.

Upon viewing, we discovered that the bedrooms all contained moldy window frames, rotting door frames, shredded carpet edges and dodgy paint features. Opening the bathroom door revealed bubbling lino on the floor, a buckling tub surround, and imminent tile collapse in the shower. The conservatory's sealant was dangling around every pane of glass, its foundation was crumbling, and the garden was smaller than the pictures portrayed it. Basically, it could have been a great property if we had the time and money to completely gut the place and start from scratch. Himself says no... *insert open mouthed cough here*

All I could think while we were stumbling from room to room was, haven't these people seen House Doctor? *lol* Mold is easily cleared up with an application of bleach and good circulation of air. The bedrooms were cluttered, one of which obviously belonged to a teenage boy as it proudly ensconced a bar in one corner and had stolen road signs in another, none of them smelled particularly fresh, and the master bedroom had peeling wallpaper and ivy growing over the single window, blocking out most of the natural light. Himself made the point that as it has three bedrooms, the listing price is only as low as it is (£288,000...!!!) because of the state of the place, and it's obviously a single-parent family from the set-up. She likely just didn't have time between shifts as a policewoman to sort the house out. I sympathise, honestly, but that house just wasn't going to happen for us.

The second isn't even really worth too much discussion due to its general ordinariness. We left there, and the only thing we could say about it was that it was better than the first. *lol* It didn't create emotion or opinion for either of us, it was just ... there. So, another no.

I'm sure we'll find the right place to build our lives in a more permanent way, it'll just take more than a day's worth of looking. But then, anything worth having should take time and effort. I'm desperately looking forward to decorating new surroundings, to having properly appointed space for my budding Etsy business, to bringing family over and having enough room to put them up comfortably, and all of these will make the finding of the right place for us even happier.

Until then, we'll tick along happily in the current House of Gabs, watching tv scrunched up on our battered red couch, me crocheting and Himself unwinding the wool as I progress, both of us attempting to chase the moggies away from eating the strands before they can be turned into a blanket. Homely contentedness.

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