Should I stay or should I go?

Thoughts on moving house.

I’ve always liked the idea of living nearer the river. (It’s the Mersey, not a pretty little countryside thing)

This house needed lots of work doing, I found that incredibly depressing. I didn’t really have the spare cash, and was reluctant to spend money I didn’t have. But it got to a point when the very fact of the thing was stressful. I avoided thinking about it. This caused friction with my son. He’d mention that something was broken, I’d fly off the handle.

Eventually, things got better financially, but I was reluctant to spend as by that point, I just hated the house. And the things that needed doing would a) cost money b) be disruptive and c) probably highlight other areas I hadn’t previously thought of.

Every time I thought about it,I went back and hid under my virtual duvet. Ignored it for a while, in the hope it would go away. But it never did. Some things, like the teeny tiny leak in the flat roof over the bay window would just get worse.

Some things just plain broke, and needed to be fixed straight away. Like the oven, that gave up the ghost on Christmas Day one year; fortunately just after the turkey was cooked.

Or the hob. Which I didn’t know was broken (a tiny crack in the glass) until it tripped the electrics. And we had to get the Electric Board out, and they basically condemned the electrics. So goodbye old Bakelite fuse board, and welcome to a modern consumer unit. And a new induction hob.

I love the induction hob! I don’t know how I managed before. I’ve got one as it uses a 13amp plug, so doesn’t put too much load on the electrics.

But eventually, things changed. I turned 60, and, on a whim, asked for my figures from my Local Government pension. Turned out that by taking my pension 5 years early, I lost out to the tune of £200 a year. So I took the pension, and the lump sum.

I now had proper spare cash, so had some things done to make the place better for me.

Double glazing. I absolutely hate most of it, but if I sell, it will be something that will be used to negotiate the price down, so decided to bite the bullet. The poor surveyor didn’t understand that I wasn’t really interested in anything fancy, just something that did the job. Fortunately it was a local firm, so no pressured sales patter.

I had the back of the house done, with a date set a few weeks later for the front. Then guess what happened? Yep. Lockdown happened.

And I realised that it’s quite useful having shops at the bottom of the road, where the queues were minimal. Small independent grocers within walking distance. If I moved to a flat near the river, I’d need a car to get to the shops. Or have a really long walk.

Now I’m re-evaluating the future. Maybe I should just stay here. At least for the next 5 years. By then, I’ll have no mortgage. I’ll have my personal pension and my state pension. That should be enough to live on. 

So maybe I’ll stay.