A new place to live

“Character home” is a nice way of describing an old house built long ago. In the case of the place we moved into the weekend before last, “long ago” would be circa 1950. We’ve gotten so practised at shifting, we did it in 2 days flat this time around, just the two of us and a borrowed trailer.

I had my apprehensions about moving into an old house. I think flowered wallpaper and light fittings, taps and hinges that don’t work. I think dingy and drafty, creaky and overgrown with weeds. I think it’d be someplace where everyday living would be a battle, because i just don’t know how to improve a home and coax it to my desired configuration the way Princess can.

In the last 7 years i’ve lived in at least 7 different places (i’ve lost count by now), and it’s always been a case of me/us surrendering to the place’s idiosyncracies, rather than the other way around.

But as i have discovered over the last 4 days of moving, my doubts couldn’t be further from wrong. The house is old and rather quaint, yes, faux chandellier light fittings, ornate ceilings and all, but everything works beautifully, and while we had a bit of a drama flushing fat black spiders from the seperate laundry area, moving in was otherwise a charm. The interior is spacious and as i discovered, full of workable corners and cabinets and places to put things. The only flowered paper in sight is what the last tenant used to line the cabinets and drawers, which stays nicely out of sight! It’s the first time i’ve ever lived someplace with wooden floorboards, and they are wonderful on the feet and the eardrums - they make piano music especially, sound like the instrument itself is in the room.

Far from being at odds with the character of the place, as we thought, we are finding that it suits us quite well. A large part of this owes to the fact that this house, unlike all the previous, modern ones we’ve lived in, appears to have been built for the practicality of everyday living, rather than to impress on one’s sense of aesthetic. Plenty of leeway for furniture and odds and ends and after all is said and done, there is still a place for us to put our feet up and look out the window at the 180° view of the city skyline (which we will be losing shortly as soon as the people constructing in front put up their 2nd storey).

And importantly, there’s plenty of workspace for car-related actvity, something i never thought we’d find, especially so close to the CBD.

This was going to be our last move in a while, whether or not we found a good place, so i’m glad we are this well situated. Neither Mr C nor i have the energy to up and move every year any longer. Plus, when moving is such a priority, you start to realise that your entire life pretty much revolves around the surprisingly long and involved process of finding somewhere to live. Personal plans and long-term goals are put constantly on hold because moving upsets all sorts of clocks, rhythms and essential stability. It starts to seem kind of pointless after a while.

We’ve done the whole living by the beach thing. It’s everything it’s cracked up to be and more, but it was wasted on us, as we’re distinctly not beach people. The river surrounds are more our speed/atmosphere.

Snatching brief moments to read while the sun sent rainbows dancing in the room through the prismed window panes, it certainly seemed like i could relax and forget about being poised to bolt for a while. There is an ineffable quality to the place that just feels like home.

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Due to the difficulties i’m having with telecommunications at the moment, posting will continue to be non-existent for the next 2 weeks at least, until i get the internet back at home. I am experiencing major withdrawals.

(Another reason i’m over the moving thing: every single time we’ve shifted, i’ve always had massive difficulties with either Telstra or my ISP. A month to get your phone and internet up and running properly stops being amusing when it happens all the time)