The big news is that we are buying a house.
Well, we are attempting to buy a house.
I was going to post about this a week and a half ago when we got our mortgage agreed.
Then, as I was mulling it over, we got a phone call from the mortgage company that said: ‘We are utterly gittastic bastards. We need your grandmother’s DNA, signed photographs of Hengist & Horsa, ukulele lessons and a cloned mouse, or the deal is off.’
We wept. We gnashed our teeth. We ran around frantically thinking of alternatives:
- Life in a rental house in Broughton Astley forever and ever and ever amen.
- Selling the cars, buying a motor home and taking to the open road as modern day gypsies, without the big fat weddings. TOOT TOOT!
- Upping the stakes, selling the children into slavery and using the extra money to buy the mansion of our dreams.
- Falling into the slough of despond and weeping and weeping until we are sick whilst singularly failing to do anything of any use at all.
I favoured this last option, but Jason is made of sterner stuff (chin pie and corduroy), so we were brave and we did not blinch.
In the end we just decided to comply with their ludicrous demands, because everyone else’s demands were even more ludicrous.
Plus we could not agree on what motor home to have.
It has taken us all this time to get this sorted out, and to get them to say that they have accepted all our burned offerings, and no they will not renege on their word – Again.
I am not being excited, even now, because we still have some negotiating to do and as with all house purchase there is bound to be many a slip twixt the cup and the lip, as nobody, ever, except in books of proverbs has ever said.
The house is lovely. The area is good (we are moving back into the city rather than staying out in the county). The schools are fabulous, although Oscar and Tallulah will stay where they are, because they love it there and I do no see any reason to take them out. The commute will be slightly longer than the one I do every day, but not much, and as I am at the school nearly every day myself I do not have to worry about getting back and forth twice a day.
It is bigger than our last house. The layout works very well for us, and it ticks a lot of our boxes. There are things that need doing to it, but then it is a house, and things always need doing to houses, so unless we move into a tent, which Tilly used to want to do when she was four, but has since abandoned as a life plan, that’s the way it goes.
I am not at liberty to divulge photos etc in case you rush round and move in before us. We are looking to move in some time in January, at which point I will bore you silly with photos because it will be too late for you to move in by then.
And that is our big news, and once we have finished negotiations and filled out eleventy bajillion forms, and signed away our entire life savings, and reconciled ourselves to the fact that we are going to be unbelievably poor for quite a long time, I might get round to being excited.
In the meantime I must away to browse the sales for washing machines, and steel myself for the inevitable trips to Ikea in the New Year.