To move or not to move, that is the question…


Our living room during the last move

My hubby can answer that question for you. NOT to move. I’ve spent a little too much time perusing Rightmove over the last week or so, which has inevitably led to me finding the odd property I can’t help but think it’d be lovely to move into. My husband being more level headed (on this occasion) about the whole thing realises that we don’tΒ needΒ to move, we’re saving money by staying where we are, and it’s very convenient for work.

However. However. We’ve been in flats for 3 years. They’re fine, don’t get me wrong, we don’t need more space. But there’s just something about a house. Going upstairs to bed. Having some outdoor space, maybe even a bit of grass. Your door being the only thing between you and the wheelie bin. HAVING a wheelie bin (we have big industrial ones for our block of flats). It’s the little things πŸ˜‰

Seriously, though. A 2Β bed terrace with a little garden in the area we used to live, closer to friends and family? We could take a look. A 3 bed terrace within walking distance of church that has an attic room? Don’t mind if we do. Both are a little more expensive than we’re paying now, but a house. A house!

As my darling hubby gently pointed out, as our working hours are pretty different, I’d be the one doing most of the packing. We’d be back to spending evenings boxing up, and we’ve acquired far more furniture than we had on our last move. A big ass wardrobe and a king size bed won’t move easily! I’m obviously looking back on our past moves with rose tinted glasses; I remember the last one was Stressful, with a capital S. Constantly finding more and more stuff to pack and sort. Boxing it up, sealing with duck tape and labelling it (I was well organised with my tape, labels and a Sharpie). I can’t quite put my finger on what was so stressful about it, but I remember being anxious and pretty tense about it.

After our move last summer, I for one was certain that we wouldn’t move again until a) we had to change cities for work, or b) we bought a house. Yet here I am, 14 months on, looking at other rented places. Have I got the itch? Having moved every year for the last 3 years, am I just raring to put ourselves through it again?

A few days later…

The answer, I think, is no. Having now taken the prospect of moving a little more seriously (booked a few viewings, gone to one, another tomorrow), I’m not sure I can face it. We looked a lovely, if a little small, terraced house this evening. It was sweet and in our dream location. It had a garden. And a wheelie bin. My feeling? Whilst we were there – wow, this is great, when can we sign up? When we got home and walked into our light, spacious flat…how on EARTH would we fit all of our stuff into that little house?! There’d be no space for a dining room table, we’d have to sell our wardrobe, we’d struggle to get any big items of furniture up the steep, narrow staircases…

We have a pretty sweet deal where we are. Ok, so the area isn’t ideal long-term, but it’s alright for now. We have a decent sized bedroom with an en-suite, a second room big enough for a bedroom which we use as a study (space for 2 desks, a chair bed and my bike), a family bathroom and an open plan lounge/kitchen/dining room. We have windows in every room (except the family bathroom), it’s bright and light, our landlord is a good guy, our neighbours are pretty alright…I find myself asking the question, in what universe would it make sense to move house? And the answer: it doesn’t. So unless that 3 bed terrace tomorrow is stunning, we’ll be staying put.



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