Quart into a pint pot

I woke up this morning and started to think about how on earth the contents of a 3 bed house + loft could be squeezed into a 2 bed flat. And the € is still dropping :(

BUT I must remember that a lot of the house contents can go to France - there'll be a 4 bed house to furnish & there's NO WAY (unless I buy that lottery ticket!) that we can afford to buy all we need.

Hips

Hooray! I managed nearly another whole night's sleep!!!
The HIP (what a waste of money!) has come through so now everything can start moving faster. And if it doesn't? Will I just feel fed up? Cross? Will we get what we've asked for the house??
Too many questions - pass the wine!

In the public domain...

The estate agent has made our house look great! It helped that it was sunny when the photos were taken. It'll be in the public domain from tomorrow!
The good news is that I am sleeping all the way through the night! For the moment the awful anxiety has subsided so I'm trying to make the most of it!
A bientot!

The first call

No sooner had I finished the last post than I had a call from the estate agents with the first person who wants to view our home. (Must stop calling it home!) She hasn't seen any photos, nor any plans, her house is under offer - this is moving too fast. And all the time the Euro is dropping like a stone. If it drops too far we won't be able to afford it. More stuff to worry about!

On the market

So - measurements have been taken, floor plan drawn, photos taken and asking price agreed. And I did it all without sweating, getting tearful or screaming 'Go away! I've changed my mind!'

This afternoon sums up everything I will miss about living here - space, light, quiet, garden. BUT France will be great! Just got to start the business of finding somewhere to rent....

Talking to myself

I'm pretty sure no one is reading this - so it begs the question why I'm blogging? Is 'Because I can' a good enough answer???

It's Sunday. My contribution to getting the house ready is to go through my wardrobe and get rid of the clothes I will never fit into again and take them to the charity shop. R is beavering away in the garden making it ready for tomorrow's photographs.

I'm still into reality avoidance - so bread is baking, supper is in the oven, and a cursory throwing away of magazines isn't really that helpful. The wine supply ends tonight - so I have to get through all this without a % proof crutch!

I just have to keep reminding myself what it's all about. But is it worth it if we only get to stay in the place for a maximum of 4 weeks a year? I wish I could win the lottery (memo to self: start buying a ticket if that's what you want) or that our premium bonds would come up - I'd grab the chance to move there straight away.

Day 3

Curled up on a comfy sofa, I can't quite believe this won't be the scene for much longer.
I've been out of the house for most of the day - and i's just so nice to come home to the familiar.
But I must remember how much I hated this place when we first moved here - everything seemed to break down and we haemorraged money! They were bleak days and I don't want to go through that again.
Maybe, just maybe, I can sleep easier tonight.

Another sleepless night

4.45am and my mind is racing. So many anxieties, such an enormous decision, so many uncertainties. Will I look back this time next year and laugh at these fears - or .....
Anyway, perhaps the best thing is to make a cup of tea and surf the net for a while. Maybe I'll get a couple of hours sleep before the alarm goes off.

Peter - not Anthony!

Got the name wrong - but the estate agent came anyway. How do you put a value on a home? And how do I now start untangling the many threads that bind me here?

Waiting for Anthony

That's the name of the estate agent's valuer. I'm not sure I want him to come.
As I walked down our road, I thought how much I like it here - the views, the feeling of space. Opening the door - knowing what would be inside. It's rather sentimental, but I just know how hard this whole process will be.
And yet - can I feel just the slightest stirrings of excitement? Of an adventure creeping over the horizon?
Part of me desperately wants to be free of the sense of attachment to this property. I ought to find my security elsewhere. All I need is somewhere to live, and I WILL have that. But my fear of returning to the poverty I grew up in is deeply rooted. It will take a lot of careful hoeing to remove it and allow me to be replanted, and flourish, elsewhere.
So for now I'll sit and wait for Anthony.

2am, 4am

It was a sleepless night - my mind has churned over the possible things that could go wrong. We could become homeless; no one would want to buy our house; we move to a noisy area (my WORST nightmare!). I'm waiting for the 'this is exciting - let's follow the adventure and have fun' thoughts to kick in!!

The estate agent comes tonight to value our home - and then we're really on the move.

Did I REALLY make that phone call?

So - the original plan was to one day buy a wreck, do it up, and have somewhere for holidays. One day - future tense. But that's not how it's turned out!

This is the bed & breakfast we stayed in - this is the property we're going to buy! The story will unfold but today's the day reality kicks in. We received the email with the proposed time scale - and I've made the call to put our house on the market.

By Christmas, we need to sell, find somewhere on a long term let, make our wills (French Inheritance laws make that a necessity), sign the deeds, move - oh, and write some Christmas cards.

I'm terrified - and hope that the terror will give way to acceptance and then euphoria! And along theway I have to learn to let go of my attachment to our current home. You're welcome to join the journey - and if you have advice/tips about how to make it all easier, then please share them. This is the first day of the rest of my life - eeeeeekkkkkk!