I've pulled out of buying it. There was damp, the garden was much too big and wild for me to deal with, and it required far too much work to get it ship-shape. In addition, my hoped-for profit evaporated when my surveyor pointed out that there wasn't enough head height in the loft.
Every other bungalow had got a loft room but sadly, with this one I would have needed planning permission to raise the roof height and build dormers and I don't have that kind of money. I'm off to see a two-bed bungalow this afternoon that doesn't require any work at all. But it won't make me any money to move back to Highgate with, either. At least I'd have somewhere warm to spend the winter, though. Mr G has said ominously that he is going to turn off some of the radiators this winter, to save money. He'd save more by mending the windows and curing all the draughts!
Just a Quickie
4 years ago
10 comments:
How was the 2nd place you viewed?
I removed the post 'cos it sounded muddled (like my head!). 2nd bungalow was perfect. Fabulous garden, perfect decor, just my taste, but I couldn't do anything to it to make a profit for my 'move back to N. London where my heart it' fund. I just don't know what to do.
I think you're chasing an impossible dream with the supposed dream home in the dream location in north London. You have two options. You either sit tight and freeze and vegetate and moan and put up with a horrible man in the vain hope that what hasn't been achievable for the past number of years finally and miraculously does happen OR (and you might have an inkling that this is the option I would advocate) you seize the opportunity to move to a perfect (your own words) bungalow that just happens not to be in your supposed right place. You have the right to be happy in a place even if it isn't the place that you designated in your head as being the place where you would be happiest. You may not be the happiest you can possibly be in this nice bungalow but wouldn't you be a LOT happier than where you are now?
I've taken lessons in being a busybody. Being diplomatic has had its day.
Once again, Haz has hit the nail on the head. I'd come in here to say almost the very same thing.
I'm glad you agree, Jacula! hydra, I don't mean to be a bully or to be critical but you deserve much better than what you've got. You've been in what I'd call a swither, a good Scots word that describes the sort of anxious state where you don't know whether you're coming or going. Ultimately only you can make the decisions necessary to change your life but please consider that Jacula thinks you should take the bungalow, I think so too and we're usually right. (We're sure to be knocked off Mr Grumpy's Christmas card list, but we'll live with that.)
Swither. What a wonderful word. It describes it perfectly. Thanks for all the good, solid, caring advice. But ask yourselves this. Could you buy a house in a location where you don't know a soul and nobody ever visits you and you'd be sitting in your perfect palace feeling very lonely? Or is the answer to get stuck into some writing and forget about social life for a while? Oh dear, I'm swithering again, if it can be used as a verb!!!
Swither can definitely be used as a verb. You can swither, be in a swither and be a switherer, it's just a great multi-purpose word.
I take your point about moving to a place where you don't know anyone. But I'm sure there would be some activity you could join, some volunteer work, something that would force you to interact with people and make new friends. And surely old friends would make the effort to come and see you? Even if they didn't, you'd still have telephone contact or internet conversation - you wouldn't necessarily be cut off for ever from all social contact. I honestly think that if you are happier in your home situation and surroundings then you will be less browbeaten by circumstances and more motivated to make the most of your new start. And if it really IS awful, you can move again. Nothing is set in stone but at least you will have done something instead of being trapped in the paralysis of switherdom. (I'm perfectly sure that's not a word but it should be)
Again, I concur with Haz.
hydra - it's all in your hands now. We'll help you move in, decorate, settle in.xx
I realise that what you probably don't want to admit, either to the world or to yourself, is that you're scared. You don't want to be lonely, or alone, or feel isolated. You feel that you're not as young as you once were and that frightens you; no one wants to be old and alone.
Inside, you are still the woman you still like to think of yourself as - it's just that years of having your self-confidence chipped away by a needy and self-seeking bully, or maybe even a series of such people, has led you to believe you're worthless. I promise you, you're NOT! Now get out and LIVE!xx
p.s. I'll put an old poem and illustration in my blog for you on this subject.
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