Wishful Thinking...
We took a walk up the village today. It was along our regular route through the park, and round via the coffee shop (of course...)
As we strolled through the park, we found a For Sale sign up at the corner. This piqued our interest, because we've looked at the house in question several times, and wondered, just wondered, if it's worth buying.
It's a 19th century cottage, which has been lying uninhabited and boarded up for several years. Being a connisseur of buildings in decline, I'd say that this one's just at the top of the slippery slope. Its roof seems fairly sound, and the masonry's first class. But unfortunately it's become the target for the local feral rat-kids, who've been spray-painting its walls and setting small fires at the doorway and so on.
Today we discovered that it had taken a turn for the worse. The windows have been smashed in (double glazed windows at that), and the plaster seems to have been hacked off the walls. The cornice, believe it or not, is still intact in the dining room, and there are original wooden panels in situ.
It's crisis time for this little house. It desperately needs someone to buy it and love it. We started doing calculations as we wandered around it - how much was it likely to be on the market for, how much would the repairs cost (around £150,000, we reckon). We figured that if the initial asking price was reasonable, it would be possible, but....
There's one major drawback, and that's its location. It sits next to the public park, and it's got a HUGE garden (another plus point!) which has gone to rack and ruin. It's being predated by the useless rat-kids because it can be accessed directly from the park, and any prospective owner would probably face a war with the little darlings, who'd grown used to having their own private space to shoot up in/fornicate in (we found a used condom in the garden today)/ vandalise or whatever. Bang goes any holidays. Bang goes any peace and quiet.
Poor house. It speaks to me, in its eloquent way. I feel its pain. But... I don't know if I care enough to sacrifice my lifestyle to saving it. And perhaps we needn't worry about it, anyway. When we got back home, I checked the internet, and found - nothing. No references to it, whatsoever. Is it a joke? Is it a sign someone's nicked from another house? Haven't a clue.
On a more cheerful note, my penstemmon Heavenly Blue is in flower at last:-
I don't remember my previous Heavenly Blue looking like this, though it's been a few years since I last grew one. I took some cuttings this morning, as it's unlikely to survive the winter.
And the other good news is that Squinty is sporting a magnificent (though still rather squint...) tail!!!
On a less hopeful note is the news that one Peacock butterfly has been spotted on the buddlehia. One is better than none, but considering this tree used to be host to five or six Peacocks, and similar numbers of Red Admirals and Small Tortoiseshells, things are not looking good for our local butterfly population.
Incidentally, the neighbours had a party last night. There was no loud music, everything was low-key, and civilised, even though it went in into the small hours. This didn't mean I could sleep, because I was just so stressed at the prospect of the music going on that I couldn't settle down. But hey, if that's the way they intend to do things from now on, then that's fine by me. They can have as many parties as they like,
Perhaps they're feeling bad about the clematis... We haven't spoken since our return from Northumberland, when we discovered that the dastardly deed was done - it's as if everyone's trying hard to avoid each other. But it's a Cold War situation, rather than an escalation of hostilities. I have no desire to make their lives a misery, and it looks like they're following the same tack. J suggests that neighbours are like spouses - after ten years living right next to each other, of course they're going to get on each others' nerves some of the time.
As we strolled through the park, we found a For Sale sign up at the corner. This piqued our interest, because we've looked at the house in question several times, and wondered, just wondered, if it's worth buying.
It's a 19th century cottage, which has been lying uninhabited and boarded up for several years. Being a connisseur of buildings in decline, I'd say that this one's just at the top of the slippery slope. Its roof seems fairly sound, and the masonry's first class. But unfortunately it's become the target for the local feral rat-kids, who've been spray-painting its walls and setting small fires at the doorway and so on.
Today we discovered that it had taken a turn for the worse. The windows have been smashed in (double glazed windows at that), and the plaster seems to have been hacked off the walls. The cornice, believe it or not, is still intact in the dining room, and there are original wooden panels in situ.
It's crisis time for this little house. It desperately needs someone to buy it and love it. We started doing calculations as we wandered around it - how much was it likely to be on the market for, how much would the repairs cost (around £150,000, we reckon). We figured that if the initial asking price was reasonable, it would be possible, but....
There's one major drawback, and that's its location. It sits next to the public park, and it's got a HUGE garden (another plus point!) which has gone to rack and ruin. It's being predated by the useless rat-kids because it can be accessed directly from the park, and any prospective owner would probably face a war with the little darlings, who'd grown used to having their own private space to shoot up in/fornicate in (we found a used condom in the garden today)/ vandalise or whatever. Bang goes any holidays. Bang goes any peace and quiet.
Poor house. It speaks to me, in its eloquent way. I feel its pain. But... I don't know if I care enough to sacrifice my lifestyle to saving it. And perhaps we needn't worry about it, anyway. When we got back home, I checked the internet, and found - nothing. No references to it, whatsoever. Is it a joke? Is it a sign someone's nicked from another house? Haven't a clue.
On a more cheerful note, my penstemmon Heavenly Blue is in flower at last:-
I don't remember my previous Heavenly Blue looking like this, though it's been a few years since I last grew one. I took some cuttings this morning, as it's unlikely to survive the winter.
And the other good news is that Squinty is sporting a magnificent (though still rather squint...) tail!!!
On a less hopeful note is the news that one Peacock butterfly has been spotted on the buddlehia. One is better than none, but considering this tree used to be host to five or six Peacocks, and similar numbers of Red Admirals and Small Tortoiseshells, things are not looking good for our local butterfly population.
Incidentally, the neighbours had a party last night. There was no loud music, everything was low-key, and civilised, even though it went in into the small hours. This didn't mean I could sleep, because I was just so stressed at the prospect of the music going on that I couldn't settle down. But hey, if that's the way they intend to do things from now on, then that's fine by me. They can have as many parties as they like,
Perhaps they're feeling bad about the clematis... We haven't spoken since our return from Northumberland, when we discovered that the dastardly deed was done - it's as if everyone's trying hard to avoid each other. But it's a Cold War situation, rather than an escalation of hostilities. I have no desire to make their lives a misery, and it looks like they're following the same tack. J suggests that neighbours are like spouses - after ten years living right next to each other, of course they're going to get on each others' nerves some of the time.
