Life suspended. All upended. Life in limbo. Wait….
Really, despite the lack of space, difficult Saturdays with nowhere to escape – computer in the bedroom, papers on the dining table, TV blaring and nowhere quiet to just be still and let the mind wander – we are so happy.
But we are ready to be somewhere bigger, lighter, more nourishing for all of us. At the moment we are still slaves to the house-searching roundabaout and no matter how many times we say to each other – just wait until the end of the week – the temptation to hop online and scour the lack of houses is too tempting. Perhaps there’s one we missed. Perhaps there is a gem just waiting to be polished.
Last weekend we went to another auction – trying not to get our hopes up, and fairly sure that the agents story of the couple separating – having to sell, needing to take what they get on the day, and apparent the lack of interest meant that we were in with a real chance was a load of highly perfumed (and incredibly indiscrete) rubbish. Still we went, and hoped and fell again. It hurts every time.
Even when you are waiting for the punch.
It’s not a new story, and the optimist in me says that it’s all of us – with the cash, who go along expecting the worst and with more in the bank than we are letting on who are perpetuating the cycle. It may or may not be true. We explored the idea that maybe, if we went to a lower bracket and saw what was on offer – that we KNEW we had more than enough for that maybe we would be able to see through the cracks and bad wallpaper and imagine something lovely.
We don’t unfortunately, EITHER of us, have that good an imagination. One place had plaster actually falling off the walls. Another – I kid you not, had a couple of planks of wood holding up the ceiling in one room. I’d like to say we backed away quietly but it was actually more of a trot and we didn’t say goodbye to the the agent who was either slightly mad or putting on a good show. We have seen places that reek of death. Cold places that chill you to your marrow. Tacky and outdated hovels. SERIOUS rot or termite damage. And some nice ones that make you wonder about the honesty of the agents and whether it’s the bad houses that are worth the money they are asking for, or if it’s the good ones that have the shonky agents underquoting and if any of it is believable at all.
It’s so hard to know what anything is worth, knowing that the price is set by the punters with thedosh at the end, and it does one’s head in. To be dragging kids around while hunting is cruel and unusual punishment for all involved an I just can’t believe, that for the amount of money we are willing to spend that we can’t get something decent. We should be able to get something LOVELY. We should at least be able to get something liveable in a decent area.
What we ARE getting, and loving is this:
A weekly (or fortnightly) delivery of organic fruit and vegetables from Ceres Fair Food on a friend’s recommendation. Which is always delightful, yummy and super, super good. It’s astounding how eager the kids are to try vegetables that are organic. Funny buggers that they are.