We finally got the keys to our lovely house at 4pm on Friday. And of course, it being me, it didn’t all go to plan. At 11.30 we called the estate agent hoping to be told that we had completed and could get into the house. No such luck. Queue calls every hour, by 3pm I was starting to think it would be Monday before we got them. Our solicitor (the monkey trained one) insisted that the money had left their account but it hadn’t reached the seller’s. So I asked the obvious question of "you did send it to the right account didn’t you?". This was met with a slight pause and "oh of course, we double checked that already" (i.e. "as soon as I get off the phone I’ll be checking that immediately") and so the money was lost in cyberspace. Then at 4pm we got the call, hurrah!! Turns out (the solicitor’s secretary probably shouldn’t have told me this) that their computers were down in the morning so the money wasn’t sent "first thing" at all and that explains why it took so long. If they’d just admitted that in the first place I wouldn’t have minded so much, at least I would have known not to have all the family down at 11.30 sitting around tapping their feet and drinking far too much coffee.
So we are house owners. And despite all the stress, tears, nervous breakdowns and arguments, it has been well worth it. It’s such a weird feeling having your own home, I’ve lived in rented flats or houses of one form or another for about 12 years, and I have never stayed anywhere longer than 2 years. (I’m not on the run from the law, I just move a lot!) So knowing that I will probably be in this house for years (well until I can face the prospect of selling – so that will be never) is a bit odd. But exciting too. There’s so much potential (and so much to be done too!) that it will take about 20 years before it’s how we want it. We have an apple tree and a runner bean rack at the end of the garden – I must be getting old, as I was so excited at the prospect of growing beans and tomatoes that I thought I might be sick! (I am ignoring the fact that I have no idea how to do this much less taming the garden itself). Long gone are the days when I got excited at the prospect of going dancing every night and being sick from vodka abuse every morning. Hellooo old age!