We’ve got our house on the market. I hate moving house. Packing up a house full of belongings takes an eternity and the home becomes less of a place of comfort and more like a warehouse with all the boxes and crates stacked everywhere. Yet it’s exciting too because packing up signals new beginnings. A fresh start. Something different. If it happens. Because even worse than the boxes everywhere is the stage we’re in now: the waiting. When will it sell? Will it sell at all? For an impatient person like me, this kills!

If I hate moving so much, why are we doing it? We like our house but we don’t love it. It’s on a lovely little estate, it’s a good size, and we’ve decorated it how we want, but it’s just not us. You see, we love old properties and ours was built this century. We love thick walls, beamed ceilings, picture rails, sash windows and everything that gives an old property that incredible character and, for me as a writer, gives inspiration.

Which begs the question, why on earth did we buy a new property when it’s not us?

It was actually a means to an end. We lived in a large three-storey five-bed property in the centre of town, but we wanted to move out of town for various reasons. This was six years ago. The housing market was difficult and we were struggling to sell. We managed to do a house-swap. The owner of the home we live in now wanted to buy a property abroad. He’d been struggling to sell too. Buying our house and renting it out meant he could release equity to buy the property abroad, and we got our wish to move out of town, even if it wasn’t a move to our preferred village or type or property.

Six years down the line and we’ve decided that it’s time for a change of scenery. We’re ready to move to the character property of our dreams. We’ve found somewhere we really like and have to just hope that it’s still available when we get an offer on ours. It’s a three-bed terrace cottage with thick walls and beams, shutters on the windows, and gorgeous features. Even better, it has some enormous workshops that have so much potential to become an incredible creative space for a writer and a photographer (hubby’s passion).

The workshops require work, but the rest of the property is in great condition with just a bit of decorating to do here and there. Today, we thought we’d better check out another property just in case the one we’ve already seen sells before ours. It was a very different type of house. Still old, with thick walls and beams, it was an empty property that hadn’t been updated for many years: a project.

I’d like to think that I can see beyond old fashioned decor, swirly carpets, and overgrown gardens to visualise what a property could become. Surely for a writer who imagines new places and people all the time, this should be second nature. And yet I couldn’t quite muster that imagination today. The house has an incredible amount of potential and I’m sure that, with time and quite a lot of money, someone will turn it into a beautiful home. That someone won’t be me. I don’t have the time. I don’t have the money. And I don’t have the will. Because the main difference between the two properties was that the first felt like a home for a writer and the second didn’t. I could picture myself in the third bedroom of the cottage or in the workshop, tapping away at a keyboard and creating a fresh novel. I couldn’t imagine myself doing that in the house we saw today. Something was missing. So when (if) we sell our house, the house for today won’t be our new home. It won’t be the place where I pen my next novel. But I’m glad we looked around it because no experience is a lost experience. The rooms, the garden, and hubby falling through the floorboards in the attic room could all be used at some point, somewhere. Hee hee. Can’t believe hubby fell through a floorboard. I really shouldn’t laugh. We’ve decided that perhaps that was a sign that the property didn’t want us either!

Keeping everything crossed that we’ll get an offer on ours quickly and the cottage is still available. Looking for a new home for the blue plaque my dad made me for Searching for Steven‘s launch day!