“…the home he had made for himself, the home he had been so happy to get back to after his day's work.”
House-hunting is stressful. I thought it would be fun – and at times it is – but it’s mostly stressful.
The more you look the more you realise how picky you are. And how little your budget can buy you (even though it’s all the money you’ll ever have in the world). And how little you know about how much renovations cost. And how little confidence in your ability to barter and secure a bargain.
I know you’re supposed to just know when you walk into a house that you want to buy it. You’re supposed to get a magical feeling that flutters up and down you, filling you with warmth and a happy glowing warm-happy-glow. I imagine you feel like Harry Potter does when grasping his wand in Ollivander’s wand shop. Oh err. “Grasping his wand” doesn’t sound quite right….Moving on!
I have looked round a good handful of houses so far and have yet to get anything like that. The only strong feelings I get are “this place is so gross”.
I get caught up with all the bollocks you shouldn’t – the décor, the cleanliness, the nicks and marks and loose floorboards and all that jazz. I want to look and see the space, the lines of sight, the potential a house might have.
We have set ourselves the goal to buy a house sometime this year. We have decided to look thoroughly where we currently live. We like it there. It’s quiet. You can also get more house for your money owing to the proximity to a thing which people don’t like to live near but we think we can live with (forgive the vagueness, I just don’t want to advertise where I live).
But we are picky little pandas. Although our current two-doubles-and-a-box-room rental is way too big for us, we are only looking at houses with a bigger footprint. We want to buy a forever home (because we hate searching and looking round houses) so we want to make sure it has the room to host us, any potential little ones, and have a guest sleep over (preferably in a real bed). Plus a decent garden. And not feeling too overlooked or crammed in.
Like I said, picky, picky, little pandas.
The fun bit is when you see a house online you like the look of. Imagining what you’d do with each room, where you’d put bits of your own furniture (essentially, where the kettle will go). But that in itself is dangerous – falling in love with a house purely based on online photos. I know houses can’t catfish, but they can do something not far off. Rooms that look spacious turn out to be boxes. Gardens that look rolling and lush run parallel with main roads. And did I mention I’m not good at looking past what’s in front of me to see the potential?
I know we have the next 10 months to achieve our goal – and there are no consequences if we don’t – but I can’t help but long for my own home. Somewhere I can make changes without having to ask a landlord for permission. Somewhere I can give out my address without warning people that it’ll probably be out of date in a year or two.
Not to mention not paying rent. That one won’t be so bad either, I imagine!
*Quote from Kenneth Grahame
