There's a good local free magazine, much beloved by small builders, local care homes wanting staff, and estate agents. Mrs Scroblene asked me to pick up a copy last week, as there was a name she expected to see inside, and I was drawn, inexplicably to the property pages, there was nearly an obsessive need to read every page, and Scrobs usually succumbs quite happily to all sorts of obsessions, mainly those with an ABV of about 13%...
Somehow, all the pictures of houses led me to the next one, then the next, until the top one leapt out, as deep down, I probably knew it would!
Yup, our old family home is back on the market!
And looking through the particulars, I'm saddened really, that the place has changed, as it must have done without Scrobs Senior's direction and taste, and nothing seems right at all. The windows just don't seem to fit, there are carpets over some of the best oak flooring available when the place was built, and the garden is just a mess!
Of course, I'll never get to see the house again, as it would be a farce for me to try and pass myself off as a prospective purchaser; I'd be rumbled as soon as I noticed the nails I banged in the garage roof, or spotted the air-gun slugs still embedded in the utility room ceiling, but I suppose I can tell the estate agents a little of why the old place - now sixty years old - at least has some form and history, from a grateful Scrobs and his dear sister.
11 comments:
Be it ever so humble.... One always has fond memories of one's childhood home and the usually happy times spent growing up there.
No point in pining for the fjords though, is there?
Ah - a flat roof by the drain pipe. A compulsory climb if ever I saw one.
Oh, Mrs S always said that she wouldn't want to live there, although we had some great times when the children were tots, Reevers!
Fond memories, as you say, are just that really!
You are so right, Mr H! It was the sort of cast iron pipe which you could rasp and pull upwards, although I was always slightly worried that it might just be the first c.i. pipe to shatter under the attack...
The flat roof was supposed to drain the water away, and it never did for some reason! Dad always said that it kept the house at an even temperature! I still reckon the drain was in the wrong corner, but he wouldn't have that!
My mum leaves our family home on Friday and I'm spending the next couple of days emptying it of 50 years of memories....quite difficult.
I wouldn't dare go back to our old 'pile'. It would sadden me too much.
The town has been twinned with Lagos.
What did they do to the windows! Our "family pile" got knocked down in 2007 by the developer who bought it. He built a footballer's pad then couldn't sell it. As far as I know it still hasn't sold. We couldn't drive past now as there is a security gate at the end of the road. I never liked living there anyway :-)
Lils, its a nasty feeling you get from driving by the old place.
To answer your question, Dad used Crittall standard windows back then in 1952 - they were metal, and timber wasn't cheap in the early fifties.
They were cold to touch, and lovely to sit by as a seven-year-old behind the curtains in a storm (I did, in the ones you can see), and they worked!
The new owners put in the aluminium things, and lost the plot!
If your email address is the same, as you're a lovely chum, I'll email you some more if you want..;0)
Thud, it won't get any easier, I'm afraid.
Sorry to dampen your thoughts...
Elecs, its unfortunately a way of life, and doesn't improve, but think what you're living in now - great move you did!
Still the same email Scrobbers, although we haven't had that provider since we moved! For some reason it still works...give it a try :-)
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