Home and Away

As I wrote yesterday, with both me and Mrs P happily retired and the kids having left home it seemed the right time to move house.

Don’t get me wrong, we loved what had been our home for nineteen years but with its dozen or so rooms we found ourselves rattling about our Victorian semi. And if I’m honest, it was looking a little tired and in need of a new family to make their mark on it.

So we made a checklist of what would be our ideal new home:

  • Smaller, naturally, but with at least two bedrooms for when the kids decide to visit.
  • No stairs in case of future mobility problems.
  • Within walking distance of local shops and amenities.
  • A small garden as our old one had become too large to be manageable.
  • And to leave enough money in the bank from the sale and purchase as a nest egg.

We thought we had found the perfect answer at our very first viewing, a ground floor apartment in a converted Victorian mansion close to the centre of Buxton. For those that don’t know it, Buxton is a pretty spa town in the middle of the High Peak and as a busy tourist destination, it has plenty of coffee shops, bars and restaurants.

Other amenities include the Pavillion Gardens, the Devonshire Dome and the stunning Crescent which is soon to re-open after a multi-million-pound refurbishment.

The apartment had a small private garden overlooking the town’s cricket pitch and it was just within our budget. Most importantly there was no restriction on keeping pets which most developments of this sort forbid.

If we were to buy it then we needed to hurry up with our own sale and we were lucky enough to get an offer almost immediately even if it was a lot less than we had hoped for. And that was when our plans began to unravel.

Despite the attractiveness of a new home in Buxton, it would mean moving away from family and friends. They may be only a 45-minute drive away but that is a lot, especially as Mrs P meets her sister most days to walk the dogs. In the end, she decided it was just too much and we had to withdraw our interest.

Which meant we needed to find an alternative and quickly but more of that tomorrow.

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2 comments… Add yours
  • Trevor Rowley 6th January 2020

    I thought you were having to evict a small weaver from his cottage in Hollingworth, Mr P. Don’t tell me he was actually a tall weaver once he got out of his chair. The message is, clearly, never tangle with a tall weaver.


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