Wednesday, 7 November 2012


Our new house (but not our car!)
... is a virtue. Sadly, it's a virtue that I struggle with. Over the summer Mr B and I moved into a new house in a pretty little village called 'Bunny' (I kid you not, it's really called Bunny!) We've been hunting high and low for a family house for a while now, only half seriously, but when this one came on the market we knew we had to have it. At the time it didn't really feel real, and even on moving day I'm not sure I was prepared for the fact that we were ACTUALLY moving from our little new build townhouse into this; our 1930s, family, 'forever' home. In fact, even 3 months later, I still feel like I'm settling in and the pangs of homesickness(?) I feel when I pass our old house are only just starting to diminish.

The thing is, now we actually live there (here?!) the enormity of the task that lies ahead is just beginning to dawn on us. Moving into a house that's as old as this one (ok, it's not old old but it's certainly not new build) means we have got lots to do. At the weekend we sat down and wrote down a whole list of things that we either need, or would like to do to get the house ship shape and exactly how we want it. It's enormous: Everything from painting to double glazing, from insulating to buying a new cooker (that's a story for another time) - but obviously all of this requires money. Money that, given we have just moved and taken on a bigger mortgage, we simply don't have. Little by little I'm sure we will get there, and perhaps, as Take That would say we just need to 'have a little patience' - it's perhaps not a very modern attitude, but it's certainly one that I could do to take heed of - and one that I think the new house is intent on teaching me.

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