I’m sorry I haven’t posted for a while. Last week was a very strange week – not just for me, of course, but for the entire country. I woke up (at 5am) on Friday to the news that no one saw coming and it really did shock and surprise me. I want to be positive about it, because there was actually a lot about the EU I really really disagreed with (not least the fact we never actually chose to join the EU as it manifests now), but I hate to see people already suffering the consequences of a decision that has basically split the country in two. I also cannot bear the fact it has given Nigel Farage something to be smug about, and, on a more serious note, given that tiny minority of racists in our country the confidence to air their views publicly.
I don’t really want to write more on this because one thing I have realised over the last few days is that there’s such a thing as TOO many opinions. TOO many voices, all clamouring for attention. I don’t want to be one of them. The media lately has disgusted me to the point I’m ashamed to call myself a journalist (and I know, I’m not a real journalist, I write about cushions but still, it’s listed as my profession on my car insurance…). I’m too ignorant and don’t think my thoughts consequential or erudite enough. All I’ll say is that I feel sad, and especially sad that there is so much anger and contempt on both sides at the moment, and that I hope that we can turn this situation around into something more positive. I don’t believe things are black and white – ‘in’ or ‘out’ with no middle ground. There has to be a compromise, a solution that both sides can bear. We need someone to take control now and show us true leadership – this is what I’m hoping for in the next few days and weeks.
In the midst of this horrible, historic Friday, something strange happened for us personally. You’ll know already if you follow me on social media, but we finally exchanged contracts on the house we’ve been trying to buy for two and a half months. There was a huge amount of uncertainty leading up to us finally getting the place, thanks to various issues further up the chain. A few times we thought we were going to have to pull out, and once the woman we were buying from threatened that she would pull out. So I can honestly say I never really thought it would happen. And in fact, up to about an hour before it finally happened I still wasn’t sure it would, as Oli was having serious doubts about buying somewhere when it’s very likely that property prices will now start to drop.
But we went ahead because we believe once you’ve committed to something for the right reasons, you have a duty to see it through. We get the keys today. Now I have to start choosing wallpaper, shopping for fridge freezers and washing machines (this hasn’t got any more interesting since the last time I did it, sadly) and dealing with the momentous task of moving house with a baby. All very exhausting already, but I’m excited.
I decided not to talk much about this house on my blog because after all the ups and downs we’ve had trying to find a home for our little family I didn’t want to jinx it. But I will say now that it’s not in London. We had so much soul searching around the decision to move out of the capital. We both love it here, but lately we’ve also both seen its real and significant downsides when it comes to children – the lack of space, the pollution, the traffic, the tiny gardens and the ridiculously steep house prices (ha! possibly not for much longer). So we’re moving to the suburbs. Back to Surrey, where I was born and bred. And ironically, to the very same town that I lived in until I was 13. That in itself seems super weird (not least because hardly anything has changed!) but I had a happy childhood there – pretty much the happiest of childhoods in fact, and that was enough to convince me that I wanted the same for Daphne.
Oli and I have both agreed there’s no way we would have bought this house if it weren’t for Daph. It’s scaring us both already. Stupid little things like not being able to use our Oyster cards at the station (you have to buy paper tickets – how quaint!). And we both love Wimbledon, and I’m going to miss all our little haunts so much. Hell, I’m even going to miss Colliers Wood’s Mothercare, where I currently spend 78% of my time waiting to get served. It actually makes me quite emotional even writing this – we’re planning to move in in a couple of weeks and I’m already making a list of things we must do ‘one last time’. Silly little walks that we used to do regularly, that kind of thing. I’ve lived here for five years now – the longest I’ve lived anywhere as an adult – and I really do feel at home here.
But the new house. The house is lovely (pic up there ^). It’s a 1960s terrace with an 80ft south-facing garden. It has a garage. I’m fairly sure it has an outside tap (the true marker of adulthood in my eyes – that and paying someone to clean your windows on a regular basis). I will have my own office, which fills me with nerdish joy. It’s in pretty good nick but we want to put our own stamp on it, and I am so excited about having the opportunity to decorate again, after so long in my tiny flat with its grey and pink colour scheme that now bores me to tears. I hope to blog about it a lot, so watch this space if you like interiors blogs. (This is meant to be an interiors blog, believe it or not, but I hadn’t had much to write about on that front lately. No such excuses now).
So yes, a funny old week. Life moves on, as it must. As Mr Hawking once said: ‘Intelligence is the ability to adapt to change’. Change may be hard, but it is inevitable, and change is good for the soul. The future is looking… different.