Casa Rosales

Casa Rosales

Monday 8 April 2013

Moving on thoughts


I remember my friend, Annie, standing at her cottage window in dreamy Oxfordshire, saying she never wanted to move again; that she had settled and would stay there forever – and thinking she was quite mad. Heavens, she was only about 30! How could she know? It was an alien concept to me and I feel I have spent most of my life moving on. I have always been a bit ‘snail-like’ and I’m quite content in my own shell. I take what I need with me in internal compartments and put out my feelers to find the external comforts I require.

I haven’t been a great adventurer but my imagination has coloured the travelling I have done - at my own pace – into a series of exciting adventures. Readers of Julia Donaldson’s story will know why I love the tale of the tiny snail who climbed on the tail of a humpback whale. ... though I will stop the snail analogy here as its conjuring up some slightly unpleasant images in my head and making me look for the slimy trail I might have left behind me...

I have just always thought of myself as a mover-oner. But maybe I’m not. The first time I stopped moving on, was when I started working for Kirklees Council. I was just 30 years old and had had many jobs beforehand – but the longest I’d stayed at any of them was 14 months. It was a different era, and luckily, gadding about didn’t work against me at interview. (Though I have always had mixed feelings about why I got the job on the day...I suspect it was mainly to do with my having studied Old English. That and being a young, fairly feisty female who was the most appealing of the candidates on the day to the lecherous interviewer ...I think I was the right person for the job but I wasn’t interviewed in a way that could have demonstrated it.) Anyway, that was then. And I’m very glad I got the job. I stayed for 21 years. But outside work, I was still ‘moving on’ and the end of one long term relationship eventually made way for meeting FR and our moving on together.

FR and I have lived together in eight different places – four in England and four in Spain. It might not sound that much but we’ve had three children during this time and Mateo has moved seven times, Ruy, six and Romy, five. That doesn’t include the six months they spent in Spain with FR whilst I was still working in England. This is a lot of upheavals for young children. Mine have had quite a snail-like attitude to it too, thank goodness.

In England, the first house FR and I bought was a beautiful, bijoux, converted chapel – not child-friendly, as I said before, as I was convinced I was too old to have children. But –within one month of us moving in, I was pregnant with Mateo. And in just over a year, we decided to move on.

We sold the chapel very quickly and bought a house in a dreadful state at a bargain price with the intention of doing it up and selling it on. The bath was in the garden; there was no heating, the walls were damp with paper hanging off – it was awful but had a large, high-ceilinged lounge which I fell in love with. We made it really lovely and it was there I fell pregnant with Ruy. Two and half years later, we had no trouble selling it and could have sold it three times over – indeed, we even had a note pushed under the door offering to pay more than the offer we’d already accepted. Our third house was an accident really. So was my third pregnancy.  I had seen and put in an offer on a different property but the survey was so bad that there was no way we could have taken it on. Our buyers were pushing us to move out and we had to find somewhere fast. And it was a seller’s market at the time and our choices were limited. We ended up with a house that I instinctively disliked but which my head told me was a practical choice. It was close enough to work for me to walk in and, being on an estate of similar properties (nay, identical – it took me weeks to remember which one was ours!) was full of people with children. It had a lovely garden and in the end, I grew to love it very much. (But I always hated its mock tudor beams and smug residential attitude.)  A week after moving in, I discovered Romy was on the way. 

Talking to a friend recently, we thought perhaps it was my nesting instinct that made me want to ‘lay an egg’ in my new nests. Something like that... probably. But the two nights before we moved in here, I had vivid dreams of being pregnant – one of them, with triplets – so perhaps he’s right. No laying eggs for me now though. I’ll stick to making chocolate ones!

All our previous houses were bought with a mortgage. I can tell you now, when you are looking for a house to buy that requires a mortgage, it feels very different from looking for a house that you are going to pay for in ‘cash’. The latter is significantly more scary. There is a heavier burden of responsibility to get it right. It might be psychological and it might be just me but it has been one of the things that has made it so much more difficult to find the right house here in Spain. Whilst there have been several that I have liked; ones that we have discussed late into the night - the idea of putting all our money into any one of them has just paralysed us. We couldn’t do it.

So, what made a difference in the end? Because here we are - we bought a house. Did all our months (and years!) of searching make us wise, prudent purchasers in the end? Well, of course not!! I had seen this house on the market for almost as long as we’d lived in Alcala la Real and had, over the course of this time, driven out to Villalobos about three times, just to see if I could cope with the idea of living in a village. The house originally had a higher price and wasn’t within our reach but it was subconsciously registered. With retrospect, I can almost say that I knew we would end up here. The intervening time was needed for house prices to fall – which they have done – and for me to feel settled enough in Alcala la Real to know that if we moved just 7kms away, our lives would not have to change too much. After more than two years, we have established good friendships and contacts; we have our work and the children their schools. We had become tired of the noise, the traffic and the dust that living in a town creates. I had looked at around 50 houses in the centre and none of them would have worked for us but we kept on looking. And, then this house came within my budget just after Christmas. FR and I came on a Friday afternoon with Derryl, the estate agent, to this and another property. We did our usual non-committal wander around but I felt I’d walked into a home for the first time in ages, not just a house that was for sale. I hardly remember seeing the second one.
FR has hopeless recall skills – he could remember only the vaguest details of the house by the time we got home, whereas I knew where I wanted the furniture to go and who would have which bedroom. However, he thought it was OK. This was the only green light I needed. Over the weekend, we went to see it again from the outside with the children and, on discovering from the neighbour that the property included a big piece of land, we were all convinced we had at last ‘found it’. And by Monday, our offer was accepted. We’d only been in it once and for all of ten minutes. We didn’t even discuss it. But we knew.
And it was time to move to the countryside.

It was time to move on. It was time to arrive.
And I have been put in mind of my friend and the feeling she had in her lovely home. I don't want to think of moving on again.

Painting by the previous owner of the house that is now ours - Casa Rosales

And now, I want a new blog name. And I need some help in finding the right one. Any ideas?



23 comments:

  1. Apart from having to start thinking about potential blog names, I am also exercising the gray matter in trying to work out who the hell interviewed you for your job in Kirklees. I think we may need to discuss this away from a public forum !
    I love the idea of the egg in each nest, and now can't get Julia Donaldson images out of my head either.
    The painting of Casa Rosales is lovely...have the owners left it with you ?
    I am sure you are wallowing in having arrived at last.....and whatever happens in the future...however long Casa Rosales will be home....for now, and for the future that you can see, it is going to be a wonderful place to plant roots and watch your lovely family thrive. Jxxxx

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    1. Sent you a message! Don't get me started though.....
      I too liked the nest and egg idea. The person I was talking to is an avid birdwatcher, so the analogy was obvious to him. The previous owner left the picture on the wall, which was a lovely touch.
      I can't stop grinning! We went for a walk last night with some friends - blog post to follow of course - and found lovely things round each corner. Mateo is very happy - at last!! All is now prepared for the planting, our roots are itching!
      Axxx

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  2. I really enjoyed this post, Annie, and thought how great blogging is for giving us friends whose experience is so different form ours. I've always been a basically settled person, having only lived in 7 houses in my entire life (not counting our two retirement holiday homes) So to read how you took your home with you from place to place until you found the absolutely right home for you has been fascinating.

    Ss for blog names, my tentative suggestion is "Putting Down Roots".

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    1. Thank you, Perpetua - though with your three homes, you are actually much more snail-like than me! I wondered about a snail-related title...but a snail that doesn't take its home around is a slug..not inspiring at all!
      I shall be making a list of suggestions and I like 'Putting Down Roots' though I suspect I might disappoint some gardeners if I call it that. Lol!
      Axxx

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  3. I like the "Putting Down Roots" idea, but I also like simpley "Casa Rosales". Whatever you choose I'll be following ...

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    1. Thank you Gaynor - that's nice to know! Casa Rosales is also on my list. Axxx

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  4. Ok, I know I've commented already..... but I think my vote goes for Casa Rosales at the moment.... I reserve judgement to see whether anyone comes up with something better !
    We spent ages thinking about what to call our house in Caunes. We had always said we would call it Bargemon....which is actually a village we used to stay in every year on holiday.... but somehow that didn't work for us, when we moved in. As the marie and the post office cant agree about the street number....5 or 8, we think it might confuse things even more if we gave it a name...maybe it would clarify things, i dont know...more thought needed. Jx

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    1. I have checked out Casa Rosales on the net and there aren't that many about - one in Cordoba but not a patch on ours. It's top of the list so far. Ax

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  5. I dare you to call it "Dun Romin".

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    1. Don't dare me, Annie. I shall resist but don't dare me! Ax

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  6. Very glad to hear you have settled in and it looks a lovely spot. Have enjoyed reading the adventures to get there and look forward to hearing the new ones too.

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    1. Thank you, Kerry. I am trying to catch up on my blog reading and did notice that you have another post - I shall read it very soon. I do hope we'll continue to have adventures and be sure, I will write about them when we do.
      Axxx

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  7. You've certainly had time to think about this house...no wonder it feels right.
    And I agree...you do know when you walk in whether this is for you or not.

    We've shunted about a fair bit and never think we're going to move on, but, up to now, we always have! Something else tempts us and we're off, but it's easier for us, no dependents to take into consideration.

    Can't help on names, I'm afraid...we've never named any of ours; they've all just been 'the house'.

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    1. Thank you Helen. I don't think my children would thank me if I said we weren't here forever. Not yet anyway!

      The house has a name - it's the new blog name I need help with. And I know you are an expert on brilliant and catchy blog names - do help! Axxx

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    2. Yes, I really must pay attention! I was in a dwalm of my own there...remembering all the places I've lived in.
      I will put the brain on the rack.

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    3. You see what I mean? A dwalm - wonderful word, never heard of it, but beautifully convincing! Axx

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    4. It's a word my grandmother used to use...indicating that one had gone off into a world of one's own - and was therefore not paying attention to her!

      I do like Dun Romin (still giggling).....

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  8. How about : "The House of Roses" or "The Rose House" ? Glad you found your place to stay put :)

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    1. The literal translation would be Rose Tree House, which is rather nice. Thank you - we are staying put but very happy to do so!
      Axxx

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  9. Casa Annie?
    Annie in Roses?
    By the way, you make me feel I haven't lived at all. What a busy life!

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    1. Thanks Nilly - I still can't make up my mind...not Casa Annie though, because a local estate agent named one of her houses that on her website thinking it was just what I wanted, but it wasn't and it's still for sale with that name!
      As for busy - I don't know anyone esle who gets around as much as you Boroughbridge Two! Axxx

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  10. Well I was already thinking Casa Rosales before I got to the comments. But I also quite like Annie of Casa Rosales.

    I'm also very much a nest builder, but have also moved a hell of a lot..15 times just in Turkey, and too many to mention before I came here. I build my nest wherever I find myself, but then I get restless....

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    1. Hi Ayak. Yes, I remember you saying you'd moved a lot - 15 nests in Turkey is a lot of nesting! (Good job you weren't laying eggs in them all!)

      I'm struggling to come up with a really good title and Casa Rosales looks destined to be part of it. But I'm going to think just a little bit longer.
      Axxx

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