Thursday May 4, 2006
“It’s not Lydeard St Lawrence, it’s Bishop’s Lydeard,” I said.
“Why didn’t you say so yesterday, then?”
“Oh, once you get a name in your head only hard evidence will shift it. Anyway, what about Bishop’s Lydeard?”
“I love it. It’s a proper village, with shops, church, village green and houses of all ages. And very, very pretty. I didn’t see a duck pond but I bet there’s one somewhere.”
“Sounds nice. How about Cotford St Luke?”
“Bit of a disappointment. A new housing estate in the middle of nowhere. Apart from the name, it has nothing going for it that I could see.”
My house hunt was cut short today as the temperature rose to levels beyond my limited endurance. It would have been a purely lovely day to sit in the shade and enjoy an early blast of summer but not a good day for pounding pavements between agents. I do however count the location of a place where I’d love to live, close but not too close to the major town of Taunton and with good public transport between the two, as a significant step forward.
It’s not time to jump yet, though. I still have to talk to agents in Taunton itself, and then to stretch the search area over to Bridgwater and out to Glastonbury. I’m not progressing as fast as I’d hoped but I do have the luxury of time.
To be honest, and it’s foolish not to be, I’m finding the job rather hard physically. It’s not easy spiritually, either.
I’m getting the groundwork done, though, and that’s the important thing. This has been a busy week for Graham, and next week will be even more so. Then he has five weeks of almost zero activity before the beginning of the season proper and during that time he’ll be free to come out with me to do the detail search and take over a chunk of the pavement pounding. I’m aiming to have the initial search finished by then so that we can get productive quickly, without wasting time looking in places that are neither practical nor desirable.
I did view one house today—a tiny new home on the edge of the Cotford St Luke development. Too small, no garage, and right next to the scuzzy end of the estate where they’ve squashed in the required 25% of ‘affordable’ housing. We’d never get our stuff in it, and I doubt we’d be happy with the neighbours. It was priced right at the very top of our budget, too, and for the same cash we’d get something more practical over in Bridgwater.
There’s an appeal to a brand new house. It’s clean, the walls are blank, and all its dreams are undreamt. In this one however, those dreams would have to be awfully small. And stay that way.
Hey ho. It’s early days yet and I still have a lot of ground to cover.