i have lived in this house since i was 5. before that, we only lived next door, so i have a very strong sense of where home is. as of tuesday though, my mum will be moving to our neighbouring village, and ‘home’ will take on an entirely different form. not least because the buyers of my house will be knocking it down.
this house holds so many memories for me, the garden contains the buried bodies of countless pets and the walls contain more secrets than you could shake a stick at. i know which floorboards to step on to get to/from the fridge in the wee hours without making a sound. i know all of the winning hide & seek spots, all of the sun traps, and exactly where to put buckets when it rains to catch the drops that fall through the roof. i know where the scissors are to trim the ivy as it starts to grow through the plug sockets and floorboards, and where in the garden polly has buried her favourite bones. i know every tree like the back of my hand, and could show you which branches to step on to climb them the quickest way possible. i will miss looking out my bedroom window in the springtime and watching the squirrels brazenly throwing nutshells down at my cats to scare them, and the family of blackbirds who chase the cats through the catflap into the conservatory. i won’t miss the lack of central heating/hot water though, and i look forward to my mum being able to have both of these things on a daily basis. what a luxury!
goodbye, garden croft, and thanks for all the memories.
