A New Horizon
I grew up in what was then a deeply unfashionable Victorian cottage on Epsom Downs. Never mind that we could watch each crop of yearlings being put through their paces in the racing stables opposite, when a mile up the road my best friend, Susan, lived on a modern estate in an open plan dormer bungalow with pampas grass on the lawn. Across the road from Susan, our friend, Mandy, had a house that was so utterly cool it had a split-level living room with a conversation pit! Unfortunately the conversation pit was a bit wasted on me; if Mandy’s older brother, Bill, was about it took all my effort just to stop blushing so any kind of speech was beyond me.
I daresay Bill grew up to be ordinary bloke and avocado bathroom suites and clumps of pampas grass have also lost that sense of the exotic, but part of me never quite got over my crush on Susan’s dormer bungalow.
In the last two years, three if you include a year of testing the water, we’ve been trying to sell our house. During that time we’ve come close to buying or selling more times than is good for a healthy bank balance. We’ve had buyers who’ve come in search of the country dream then taken fright at the reality, we’ve tried to buy a house that turned out not to be for sale, one which was found to have expensive structural problems and one with a water supply that was so private no one seemed to be able to guarantee access to it.
At last, a couple came who loved our house... except by then we couldn’t actually find anything we wanted to move to. For a while it looked as if we would have to move into rented accommodation and, once again, I must thank Preseli Mags for coming to my rescue and putting us in touch with helpful people.
In what’s been a difficult and trying year with worries about the health of some of my nearest and dearest, I was beginning to feel very anxious about where we would live. Then Tom, who’d been meticulously trawling the property websites said, ‘Come and look at this...’ Nestling in a valley sloping down to the sea, sitting in its own good-sized plot... was a dormer bungalow; we move there on Thursday.
See you when we’re out the other side!
Painting is a favourite, West Coast Surf, by Tom Tomos