Valentino and viewings

 Happy Valentine's Day - or rather, happy birthday to Uncle Tom. Aunt Ada was an April Fool and Tom a Valentine. The baby was Grandma.

He was named for Thomas, his paternal uncle, the man who would steal how mother away - or was her running Salvation? We will never know.

Hr had the sort of tight curl "the teacher used to pat it every time he walked past" until one day Tom snapped and, without raising his eyes from his work, took a ruler and rapped the annoying insect hard.

Grandma adored her big brother - her tale was she so loved her big brother that she could not bear they part, and ran away TO school at a very young age to be with him.

Which was just as well, because when their mother left their father put them in an orphanage as he could not work and look after three children.

Perhaps he was too proud to turn to his sisters and share his bewilderment. His own paternal example was a man who abandoned his family. (I have just realised that there is a strong history of abandonment in that branch of the family!)

Therefore Tom, aged about five, became the man of the family - one older bossier sister of about seven and the baby aged three.

They lived in various foster situations - but the rest is a story for another day.

Today I went viewing houses. I was so organised. You see, until this week there had been nary an interesting house to see - maybe one a week and generally not so exciting as to go to the extra effort of checking it out. 

I have been to only a handful over the past few weeks.

Today I had five on the list - two between 9 and 9.30, a 9.30, a 10 and a 12.45.

The first not too far from my work. It's near the top of a hill, which after the nearly two decades of the flatlands, is interesting. 

Rooms led to other rooms and no corner was square. You never knew what surprise you would find beyond the next door. I could have loved it there. 20 year old me would have swooned at the potential. Unfortunately 20 year old me wasn't buying houses (how cheap they would have been then) and I wasn't buying for 20 year old me alone.

As there was another house to view in this timeslot and it was across town, I set my phone to navigate and went to see the other.

It is in this little neighbourhood where there is this secret park that about three of four dead end streets end at it. 

I got there with three minutes to spare but the moment that I walked in I knew that it was not me. The agent opened with the fact that there was already a Southern offer on the table. There was a sunken lounge with a balustrade, a tucked away kitchen it was definitely waiting for a different family.

The next was in a different part of town and it is right at the very extreme end of my budget - but there was plenty of bang for that buck.

All of the boxes plus that little bit more. We want 3 bedrooms and maybe an office - this one has 5, an office AND a big-a$$ed media room. Want a pool - one so inviting I could see myself attracting many friends! Walk in wardrobe! Bathtub in BOTH bathrooms.

Way out of our league! Way way WAY!

Cherry on top is - you know The Griswalds? The Christmas themed neighbourhood they lived in? That is what this neighbourhood is renowned for - although doubtful that anyone could throw such a party, as the roads are closed during the peak pedestrian hours every evening.

The fourth house was in the same neighbourhood but the poor relation end. Yes a pool but the clothesline blocked one garage, a rainwater tank didn't attach to the broken gutters and one bedroom had two doors entering it side by side.

I know, picky picky picky.

I abandoned my quest before the fifth. It was in a further part of town near my worst ever workplace. That workplace has now moved but my Spidey senses said "you're not going to live here" and I listened.

Still, one of the blessings of the offer we have accepted is time. So we will keep using that.