I work from ‘home’ 2 days a week. I’m about to start a whole lot of renovation on my house and the place is a bit of a disaster area at the moment – reflective of other aspects of my life, where everything has been thrown up in the air, has landed and now needs some careful sorting and re-assembling.
I have moved 14 times in my life – 5 of those before my 12th birthday. I went to 3 different primary schools, 2 different secondary schools. I can settle quickly and make friends on the surface, but making deeper long lasting friendships is harder.
I bought my current house with my ex husband in 2005. We bought it as the house we would hopefully raise our family in over the long term, but it was first and foremost for our beautiful greyhound to stretch his legs in. Previously we had lived in a little Victorian end of terrace, and the garden was smaller than our kitchen. He loved sunbathing there in the yard but race track options were limited.
We separated shortly before Christmas 2006, and I bought him out of the house in August 2008. Since then I have lived here on my own, sharing the dog with my ex. In June this year, aged 12, our beloved Bubble had to go to sleep for the last time. It was an awful day but it had to be done as Bubble’s body had had enough (even if his spirit was still going strong – stubborn boy!).
My house is huge! I am small and tend to rattle round it…. but I am very emotionally tied here and feel it’s Home. Or rather, I did. Lately I am considering whether it is really my Home. The renovation needs doing regardless, it’s an old house and needs caring for as a result.
How I decorate and plan the layout of the house rather depends on my long term plans. Do I set it out and decorate to suit me, or do I do it with a view to selling up? It’s a lot of money to spend and make the wrong decision, but I can’t put it off any longer.
Why is it that I am willing to commit to a person, to a relationship, but not to a place?
I love where I live. My bedroom faces east, and overlooks fields for some distance. Some weeks ago, this was what I opened my curtains to. I took photos on my phone and on my camera, only the phone really captured anything like the colours I saw.
When I look out of my bedroom window, I wonder why I would want to live anywhere else. (Mind you, parallel to this on the other side of the house is a reasonably busy road, otherwise I would never have been able to afford the house!)
But really, I am trying to pin down what means it’s home. Things? People? Animals? A sense of peace? I’m really not sure but I hope to find out.