Castlehunting

Karen and I have chosen possibly the most inconvenient time imaginable to consider buying a house. But some things you can’t control, and you have to go with the flow.

A couple of major factors have precipitated this new project. The first is the size of our current house, which is a rented property and consumes more than a third of our joint net income. Though it is adequate at present, I think that when the baby gets old enough to need his own bedroom, it just isn’t going to work for us anymore. It’s also on a relatively busy road by a railway station, with lots of boy racers, shouters, drunkards, urinaters and vandals all through the night. I think I’ve lived here for long enough.

The second factor is a financial one. Whereas I was previously under the impression that making that first step onto the so-called “housing ladder” was out of my reach, I have recently reassessed and been pleasantly surprised by my findings. In the light of the deposit that Karen and I think we have at our disposal, research indicates that we stand a good chance of getting a mortgage that allows us to buy our dream house, with repayments that amount to less than our currently monthly expenditure on rent. We will be speaking to a financial adviser on Tuesday.

Last night we looked at a property in town which had good qualities, but not enough of them. Our initial gut response was a big “no” – we told the estate agent our specific reasons, for future reference. We then stopped off at a pub on our way home, where the introduction to my system of two pints of London Pride (and a lime & soda for her) caused us to attempt to talk ourselves into liking the property in question. Naturally, our self-awareness left us in no doubt that this was a natural response, and nothing to act upon. Sleep on it? Damn right. This morning, we were back to “no”.

So the task remains to find the dream home. A lofty target, but nothing less will do.