So back at the end of November we had a small shock when we discovered our landlords of five years are moving premises, which means our tenure in the flat above their current shop will also come to an end.
Nearly two months later they are still there, we are still here, but is all a bit temporary. They are still moving, and will be in their new premises by the middle of next month. But we still haven’t had our official 2 months notice to leave. It will arrive at some point in the next few weeks, but no one is quite sure when. Which frankly makes checking the post in the morning a task I approach with trepidation.
We have of course been house hunting ever since we found out that our time here will be up at some point, but other than two places we viewed in early December and deemed unsuitable while we still have the pleasure of time on our side, nothing has come up.
I don’t mean nothing nice has come up, I mean literally nothing has come up. The only three bed places to have come onto the rental market since then have had ‘one older child considered’ in their details. Well, I have three kids, one of them is older, an adult technically in fact, and I am guessing the 11 year old could therefore take her place and be classed as the ‘one older child’. And I could hide Syd in an oversized pocket I suppose?!
Seriously though, three bedroom houses that don’t want more than one child seems a little mean to me. There are times at 4am when I get myself into a proper panic that we will end up with nowhere to go. Daylight forces me to be more rational, although there is still a nagging doubt at the back of my mind.
There is no social housing that we can access. As financially solvent people we don’t even qualify to go on the list. So where do we turn if the situation continues to be that there is literally nothing available. I have shared custody of my middle son, so cannot move to a different area unless I give him up – clearly that is not an option. So I just continue peering in estate agent windows and hoping my rightmove alerts ping me an email, and praying that somewhere comes up, that will take us, that we like, that will do, before our time is up.
In the mean time everything seems a bit limbo-ey. I had to make Syd’s school application based on where we live now not where we may be living by September. There is no point in purchasing new lampshades or furnishings as I had planned to do, as we don’t know what will work where we live next. As somebody who is a home person, who works from home, who stays at home with my youngest, I am finding it unsettling to not be able to visualise the rest of the year. I am trying to view it with excitement, new opportunities, maybe the garden we have yearned for, but until we have something signed I think a state of mild panic will remain my baseline mood.
Yours somewhat grumpily,
Miss Cisco XXX