My A-Z autobiography … H is for House and home
Those annoying telesales calls, we all get them, trying to sell stuff – there’s always that moment when they ask ‘are you the home-owner?’
I lived at home until I was eighteen, moved in with a friend who owned a house until I married, and, well, one way and another, always lived in other people’s property until I moved to Scotland. The property market was just starting to perk up but it was still going to be cheaper for me to buy than to rent, and I invested, very nervously, in a shabby ninety-year-old flat and spent two years fixing it up, one project at a time. After two years I sold it, for more than double what I had paid, and bought a very small house. My very own house!
There’s a quote I read somewhere that middle age starts with the first mortgage. Instead, I felt and feel quite extraordinarily grown up. Me! A home-owner!
Not that I admit that to telesalespeople, of course.
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