Showing posts with label house swaps. Show all posts
Showing posts with label house swaps. Show all posts

Monday 16 January 2023

And on we go....

 2023.  Are you ready for whatever is going to be flung at us this year?  For South Africans, the year has started with up to 10 hours every day without electricity.  And the most upsetting part of this is the feeling of powerlessness that comes with it.  Frankly, it scares me.  There is no way an economy can grow, or even survive, without the power to work.  And from here, it is pretty much down hill into a deep, inextricable mire of societal issues.  Even more than we face now.

Despite my gloomy start to this blog, my year actually started off Very Well.  As midnight rolled the years over, we - the 5 of us - were still eating the feast that our son and his partner (S) had prepared for us in Cambridge.


  And what a feast it was - scallops on cauliflower puree with pomegranate seeds, cheese souffle, roast beef with potatoes and asparagus, and a rich chocolate tart - all locally sourced ingredients  cooked to perfection. What an immense gift to start the year surrounded by my lovely family.

Christmas was just as special.  S was still in Cape Town, so the 4 of us spent the most relaxing, leisurely day celebrating love, and being together.  Some days are stand out moments in life.  This was one of them.

We spent most of our holiday in Cambridge itself.  It is a beautiful place, small enough to have most things in walking distance, and big enough to find new places to explore every day.  I love the cobbled streets, the river, the quirky sense of humour scattered around the place.


(Check out https://www.dinkydoors.co.uk/ as an example.)

And we had SNOW.  It dazzled and delighted us. How wonderful to be surrounded by blankets of white fields.


We took a lot of photographs because snow is a strange phenomenon for us at the bottom of Africa. 

We ventured into London twice. (There is an excellent parking app if anyone is needing that sort of info - people let out their driveways or front garden space for a day, and it is much cheaper and works much better than trying to park officially anywhere in the outer London area. Park at the edge of zone 2, and use the underground - it's quick and affordable....)  Our daughter had prepared a "treasure hunt" (my description, not hers) and mapped out a route to see the unusual side of London.  So we went to Hoxton to see a Monster Supply Store.

  (It's really a front for something far more sinister than monsters - it raises funds for creative writing courses.  Monsters won't scare the world, but creative writing just might).  We found, after much searching, because it is UNDER the Bloomberg Building, the Temple of Mithras.
We went to Novelty Automation (https://www.novelty-automation.com/). We explored St Dunstans, a casualty of the second world war. Another treasure was an Algerian coffee store that has been around since 1887. 


Our visit there was fleeting because our feet were sore and it was raining.  We did the mainstream stuff too - Hamleys, Burlington Arcade, Selfridges etc and rocked up home at a respectably late 11pm.


I am worried I am making you all a little jealous, so I won't go on and on about all the fabulous times we had, or the delicious pub meals, or seeing beloved family, or the hilarious games we played, or our trips to Leicester, Norwich and Surrey.  Or the London Christmas lights and atmosphere, or the quirky house we stayed in (The house swap thing worked well) I won't even mention the Kings Speech bingo, or the swans on the river Cam. And I will avoid stories about the snow wanderings and wood fires with mulled wine. Suffice to say, you would have wanted to be there too.

I seem to have written myself out of my load shedding bad mood.  Remembering all the good stuff is an important balance when life seems a bit dark.  The Monster Supply store is definitely onto something- creative writing is an excellent way to tame a Kraken.




Wednesday 27 July 2022

With a bit of spit and polish, this old house will do nicely

 A few years ago we joined Home Exchange.  As implied by the name, it is a scheme to swap homes with another family anywhere in the world, to make holidays more affordable and comfortable.  We almost had our first swap a couple of years ago, but, you know, Covid...

 The angst that comes with leaving your home to strangers is real.  It's daunting. What if it isn't what they are expecting, despite the myriad of photos on the web?  We don't photograph the cracks or idiosyncrasies, do we. We wait for the light to be good, and take "best scenario" photos with the cushions plumped and slightly too short curtains gathered into a fetching pleat.

Or what about the practicalities? Friends who stayed in our house while we were away earlier this year, diplomatically pointed out that our house is, shall we say, "complicated". For us, it is just home, but for newbies getting the hang of the rain water toilet flushing system (and the pump decided to be glitchy just then) or that our hot water is solar panel heated except when it is too cold (and Eskom was making everyone's life difficult just then), or that our alarm is a little fussy about where on the pad you press the button (etc) can be challenging . We blip over all this stuff because we are used to our own muddles and systems, but for visitors it may require some explaining.

Which is why we are working on a home manual.  It includes all the basic information, and the quirks of the home: why our tortoises have to remain in their allocated garden sections; that a neighbouring cat likes jumping on the glass roof of one of the bedrooms (Alarmingly scary if you are not expecting it.) Or how some robins think this is actually their home, and fly in daily to see what's new and happening. Come to think of it , it is quite a long document.  (But indexed - order in chaos)

We are keen to go ahead with the house swap plan anyway.  We love our home, and hope whoever stays in it will love it too.

All this got me thinking.  According to good psychology, houses represent the Self in dreams.  And I wonder if the doubts about imperfections and quirkiness that I have about our home are similar to the doubts I have about myself.  I don't think I am alone here (or am I?) in thinking that sometimes we think we might disappoint others when they get to know the real deal, and not just the social or choreographed  images we share.  We all put on our "best scenario" selves in public, but what about the cracks and cobwebs?  Or perhaps I am too complicated, and sadly, no user manual can help with that - indexed or not.  External (what I look like, what I wear, for example) and internal (am I likeable, do I live my best) insecurities have almost always plagued me.  Nothing, and no-one is perfect, and that is something I can celebrate (yes, celebrate!) more and more the older I get.

I have a few houses that crop up in recurring dreams - one on a distant hill, one on a suburban road - the ying and yang of my life. And I still have dreams about projects I want accomplish and places I want to see in this vast world.  So house swapping seems like a really good idea.   Apparently a lot of home owners share my angst about their homes being suitable - there are lots of FAQ on the topic.

 With a bit of spit and polish, this old house will do nicely. 



 



Rowing into the blue(s)

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