The Old House, Eight Years

I found these two images of our old house. I didn’t realise how similar they are. The oldest of a young (old) family moving into a space which would become their home.

old house 2010

A baby H not quite crawling, nowhere near walking, but getting the hang of it. Having this huge space to move around in and working it all out. When we moved from our old place, she could reach to grab things. When we moved to the old place she had to work out how to move further.

It started as a happy place. We had ups and downs, but it was our home.

In the old house our floor seemed to be a shelving unit.. with piles of things left everywhere.

Old House 2018

The keys are back with the letting agents. We’re waiting for our deposit to be returned.

The reason we’ve rented for so long was the lack of affordable houses near us. Our only option was Shared Ownership although there was nothing locally.  Local developments which had houses earmarked as affordable seemed to switch to the riskier Help to Buy option. With only 21 years before we (potentially) retire, it isn’t an option for us.

With Shared Ownership there is no holding deposit. This house is ours. Nobody is going to sell it and force us out. Nobody is going to insist we keep everything neutral and to the landlady’s taste. It’s ours.

There’s one major difference in the two photos. The radiator. We had central heating installed after our carbon monoxide leak.

It’s now our responsibility to get our gas boiler checked every year – not someone else’s to forget about. Gas Safety Week 2018 is in a couple of weeks.

That chapter is closed now we’re out of the old house. The old, painful memories aren’t there every day any more.

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