Published: 11/04/2009 00:00 -
Updated: 29/01/2010 13:08
TODAY, April 11, marks exactly a year since we completed our house purchase, picked up our keys and moved in to our new house.
It's hard to believe it was 12 months since Lizzy ran around all the empty rooms in excitement, squealing like a distressed goat.
It's been 52 weeks since we called on the help of some of our best friends, hired a van, and started moving all our stuff in.
And it's been 366 days (yes, that is right, think about it) since we sat in our empty living room, eating chips out of the paper using packing boxes for tables and chairs.
We've learned an awful lot in the year we've been homeowners. We've spent a lot, worked a lot, and generally thoroughly enjoyed having our own roof over our heads.
Financially, even though the economic world has imploded since we moved in, we've managed much better than we thought we would do and our year has been surprisingly affordable.
I like to think this is partly down to my ruthless penny-pinching, but we've certainly both settled in to a spending routine that doesn't deny us the odd meal out or a nice bottle of wine.
Our bills have been much less gut-wrenching than we thought they would be. We've re-calculated our water payments as they were too high, our gas has been over-paid a little all year and electricity will probably be the same.
Because of the way it was worked out last year, our council tax will actually be dropping this year, so that's another few quid's worth of pressure off us each month.
If we'd not been stupid enough to fix our mortgage rate that would have been cheaper and, mercifully, the house has cost very little in repairs and maintenance.
All this has meant we've been able to afford to treat our house with a few nice things over the year.
Our garden is furnished with some interesting foliage, and there's a plethora of interesting green things growing in the house at present.
We've put up shelves, bought a few gadgets, set up a big fish tank, added a rabbit to our family, and indulged in a few silly little things that help us put our own stamp on the place.
On the downside, we still haven't had the house-warming party we promised everyone we'd invite them to. We still can't get decent TV reception in the bedroom and our tap's broken in the kitchen.
The starlings in our wall cavity are getting louder and friskier of late, which presumably means that in a few months there'll be some faint hatching sounds followed by some loud cheeping sounds keeping us awake.
We still want a new front door but we can't afford it, the boiler is old and noisy but fixing it is too complicated and replacing it would mean selling Lizzy's body. Which she still won't agree to.
I hate not having carpets too. We've got them upstairs, but downstairs is all laminated flooring. I know it looks nice and it's easy to mop up spills on but I'd kill to tear it up and put carpets down.
Our garden gate is falling apart, I still haven't sharpened the lawn mower blades so the lawn looks terrible and we still can't bleed our living room radiator because the tap thingy's all chewed.
But if everything in the house was perfect, if everything worked and nothing went bang or woosh every now and again, wouldn't life be boring?
Owning a house is hard work, and damned expensive, but it's like a hobby in some ways.
Keeping the place tidy and in good working order takes up more time than I could possibly have imagined - especially given the fact I'm on my own most of the week.
But on those surprisingly frequent occasions when you have a quiet moment to step back and admire a spotless kitchen, an immaculate flowerbed or a freshly vacuumed living room all that hard work seems worthwhile. Almost enjoyable in an odd way.
The other day we returned from a short break with some friends in Norfolk. It was a fabulous holiday and we didn't want to leave, but that feeling of being home - returning to the four walls we devote our entire life to - was absolutely wonderful.
In these difficult economic times owning a house isn't the secure financial investment it once was, but if all goes according to plan we'll be celebrating the end of our second year next April.
And hopefully many more Aprils after that, too.
It's hard to believe it was 12 months since Lizzy ran around all the empty rooms in excitement, squealing like a distressed goat.
It's been 52 weeks since we called on the help of some of our best friends, hired a van, and started moving all our stuff in.
And it's been 366 days (yes, that is right, think about it) since we sat in our empty living room, eating chips out of the paper using packing boxes for tables and chairs.
We've learned an awful lot in the year we've been homeowners. We've spent a lot, worked a lot, and generally thoroughly enjoyed having our own roof over our heads.
Financially, even though the economic world has imploded since we moved in, we've managed much better than we thought we would do and our year has been surprisingly affordable.
I like to think this is partly down to my ruthless penny-pinching, but we've certainly both settled in to a spending routine that doesn't deny us the odd meal out or a nice bottle of wine.
Our bills have been much less gut-wrenching than we thought they would be. We've re-calculated our water payments as they were too high, our gas has been over-paid a little all year and electricity will probably be the same.
Because of the way it was worked out last year, our council tax will actually be dropping this year, so that's another few quid's worth of pressure off us each month.
If we'd not been stupid enough to fix our mortgage rate that would have been cheaper and, mercifully, the house has cost very little in repairs and maintenance.
All this has meant we've been able to afford to treat our house with a few nice things over the year.
Our garden is furnished with some interesting foliage, and there's a plethora of interesting green things growing in the house at present.
We've put up shelves, bought a few gadgets, set up a big fish tank, added a rabbit to our family, and indulged in a few silly little things that help us put our own stamp on the place.
On the downside, we still haven't had the house-warming party we promised everyone we'd invite them to. We still can't get decent TV reception in the bedroom and our tap's broken in the kitchen.
The starlings in our wall cavity are getting louder and friskier of late, which presumably means that in a few months there'll be some faint hatching sounds followed by some loud cheeping sounds keeping us awake.
We still want a new front door but we can't afford it, the boiler is old and noisy but fixing it is too complicated and replacing it would mean selling Lizzy's body. Which she still won't agree to.
I hate not having carpets too. We've got them upstairs, but downstairs is all laminated flooring. I know it looks nice and it's easy to mop up spills on but I'd kill to tear it up and put carpets down.
Our garden gate is falling apart, I still haven't sharpened the lawn mower blades so the lawn looks terrible and we still can't bleed our living room radiator because the tap thingy's all chewed.
But if everything in the house was perfect, if everything worked and nothing went bang or woosh every now and again, wouldn't life be boring?
Owning a house is hard work, and damned expensive, but it's like a hobby in some ways.
Keeping the place tidy and in good working order takes up more time than I could possibly have imagined - especially given the fact I'm on my own most of the week.
But on those surprisingly frequent occasions when you have a quiet moment to step back and admire a spotless kitchen, an immaculate flowerbed or a freshly vacuumed living room all that hard work seems worthwhile. Almost enjoyable in an odd way.
The other day we returned from a short break with some friends in Norfolk. It was a fabulous holiday and we didn't want to leave, but that feeling of being home - returning to the four walls we devote our entire life to - was absolutely wonderful.
In these difficult economic times owning a house isn't the secure financial investment it once was, but if all goes according to plan we'll be celebrating the end of our second year next April.
And hopefully many more Aprils after that, too.
NEWS HEADLINES
NATIONAL NEWS
NATIONAL SPORT
Gareth Butterfield blog
