Dear Tom, you nearly gave me a heart attack this morning. We are 25 days from the closing on selling our house which has been a long and fraught process but will ultimately be a good change for us. But when my iPhone announced your article, it just showed me “The Villager” and “I’m sorry, I cannot afford to purchase your house.” Guess which part I read first? 😆
I follow your chain of thoughts quite well. I owned a house once for eight years. It was an adventure, being on the edge of a city with the woods nearby and on a dead end road.
Before too long rabbits, squirrels, various types of birds, shrews and even the occasional wayward deer would pass through (a few literally). My first months coincided with the late spring and early summer of the year and the empty lot behind me (which I owned) was a great spot to grow a garden.
But then winter intruded its grizzled muzzle and I soon discovered every drawback imaginable. Since there was no basement or cellar the foundation sat perilously close to the ground.
Mice and shrews soon found the proximity to the kitchen with all of its produce irresistible and I found myself stooping to Machiavellian schemes to trap them. The incessantly freezing temperatures not only kept the house frigid but inevitably froze the plumbing by February, necessitating a trip down to the crawl space with a heater which, over the course of a day and two nights, would finally get the water running again.
Then there was the matter of the roof over the laundry room. The pitch was too low and, as a consequence, ice dams would build up and water would drip down the walls.
I remodeled the room (and roof as much as I could afford to) but the leaking merely migrated, a bird flowing north.
The neighbors across the street would walk through the front yard to the garden, helping themselves to whatever was ripe.
“The people who lived here before always let us do that” was their only response before I laid down the law.
As a last resort I thought that if I could hire a business to lift the house I could at least get a cement foundation laid in. This was, as it turned out, useless as the house, originally a summer home, was built almost room by room, each section having its own foundation - seven in total.
I sold it at a loss to a guy who one day decided to case the house and peered into my bathroom window just as I was taking a shower.
Since then I’ve lived in so many rented houses and apartments that I’ve lost count.
I could sit and read whatever you write and let the world go one and end in ice or fire.
You and Tracy Kidder must be related with your common love of houses and I hope I am too because your love for houses filled with memories are the only kind for me.
OMG, this is your whole life journey already reflected in your house theme, and despite the awful Unbound fiasco and sudden departure from your present home, you sound energetic.
I've never understood this obsession with the ownerhip of property. Why? So you can pass it down to the next generation who'll almost certainly sell it. It just seems like another of the greedies ways of ensuring no one else can get any enjoyment out of something. And this idea of people owning dozens of houses and renting them out at a cost that most people can't afford, just to fill selfish arseholes obsession with money is repulsive. And meanwhile the government sit idly by doing SFA about it!
Ownership means security, to decorate as you like and grow trees...and since UK pensions are so bad (worst in Europe/West) owning a rental property is the only way to live after retirement.
Well- I enjoyed the article very much. Second time of reading, and there will be more even if you don’t repost it. Thank you!
Tom: so very sorry to read about another move being necessary for you two. You do sound positive about it, but I’m sure it’s a bit of a PITA. As for Unbound- whatever name they’re currently trading under, I’m afraid they are behaving like scoundrels. Grrr. You have our sympathy, not that that’s an awful lot of use. 😭😡💐 Very best wishes for the next chapter.
Hi Tom, I really feel for you and your partner in your current predicament at the moment. My husband and I went through something similar a couple of years ago. Our landlady wanted to sell the house we had lived in for a decade, but she accepted our offer to buy it from her, then the day after we got the letter saying our offer was accepted she withdrew from the deal, and the day after that we received a section 21 notice giving us 2 months to leave. As we are both disabled it went from relief to utter nightmare in the space of a few days. All I can say is trust the Universe, something will come along just at the right time. In our case, right at the last minute.
Also, your previous publishers are fuckwits and loonies of the highest order. Again, hopefully the Universe will give them what they deserve.
Thanks Helen. Gosh, that’s awful. I am sure there are some really nice, kind landlords out there. But the empirical evidence often seems a bit thin on the ground.
Why are people like that! Also being disabled I can relent to that in the necessity of living in the right place for ourselves in more than one way. You have my empathy. I hope things are better now.
Given what you've previously said about Unbound, I'm not surprised that they're still being dicks, but I'm sorry that they're doing it to you.
Your writing is so evocative, a poem that lets me see the places you've been and share your feelings about them.
I'm 67 and have never been able to own a house. I probably never will. I've moved so many times that I lost count a long time ago. This has left me with two core beliefs about my dwelling place:
1. Wherever I live, whether dorm, apartment, or street corner, is my house.
2. No place is home that doesn't have cats in it. I grew up surrounded by cats, and ever since then, I don't feel complete without cats.
I hope you and your partner find a house that you love.
Oh Tom, all best on the move. It's tolerable when you can do it in your own time, but abhorrent on theirs. And the cats will have to learn a whole new area! I'm moving sometime this year, but my cat died in September and it's kind of a relief; he was born in the backyard, lived here his whole 17+ years, and didn't do well with change and strange people stomping about the house lifting furniture. Will settle into the new place and then I'm sure the Cat Distribution System will provide.
Glad at least the giant piles of books won't have to be moved again.
As to your ex-publishers: I think DAD spoke well -- WOFFAL!
So inspiring. I feel a bit the same about houses in romantic locations, but being a city type, I just dream on happily. I've owned my house for 41 years and satisfy my wanderlust with travel. I'm waiting for your new book to be published and in the meantime, I think I should subscribe. 🤔. I love your writing and credit Mark Diacono for introducing me to Substack. He writes beautifully too. So much quiet humour (you can see I'm not American). Very best of luck in finding another amazing house. I share your nesting instincts and have commented previously on your lovely rug(s).
Tom, tell me truth, it's been you moving town signposts around the westcountry isn't it? I'm sure Midsomer Norton was happy to masquerade as Frome, but not so certain the feeling was reciprocal
Tom dear, think of change as more fodder for your imagination.
Your “Dartington years” always sounded fun and your fourth dimension writing about the “Magic” home on the Dartington Estate, stays with me and in my dreams.
Clear your mind and find a cloister for you, your partner and cats to inhabit.
Dear Tom, you nearly gave me a heart attack this morning. We are 25 days from the closing on selling our house which has been a long and fraught process but will ultimately be a good change for us. But when my iPhone announced your article, it just showed me “The Villager” and “I’m sorry, I cannot afford to purchase your house.” Guess which part I read first? 😆
I follow your chain of thoughts quite well. I owned a house once for eight years. It was an adventure, being on the edge of a city with the woods nearby and on a dead end road.
Before too long rabbits, squirrels, various types of birds, shrews and even the occasional wayward deer would pass through (a few literally). My first months coincided with the late spring and early summer of the year and the empty lot behind me (which I owned) was a great spot to grow a garden.
But then winter intruded its grizzled muzzle and I soon discovered every drawback imaginable. Since there was no basement or cellar the foundation sat perilously close to the ground.
Mice and shrews soon found the proximity to the kitchen with all of its produce irresistible and I found myself stooping to Machiavellian schemes to trap them. The incessantly freezing temperatures not only kept the house frigid but inevitably froze the plumbing by February, necessitating a trip down to the crawl space with a heater which, over the course of a day and two nights, would finally get the water running again.
Then there was the matter of the roof over the laundry room. The pitch was too low and, as a consequence, ice dams would build up and water would drip down the walls.
I remodeled the room (and roof as much as I could afford to) but the leaking merely migrated, a bird flowing north.
The neighbors across the street would walk through the front yard to the garden, helping themselves to whatever was ripe.
“The people who lived here before always let us do that” was their only response before I laid down the law.
As a last resort I thought that if I could hire a business to lift the house I could at least get a cement foundation laid in. This was, as it turned out, useless as the house, originally a summer home, was built almost room by room, each section having its own foundation - seven in total.
I sold it at a loss to a guy who one day decided to case the house and peered into my bathroom window just as I was taking a shower.
Since then I’ve lived in so many rented houses and apartments that I’ve lost count.
"Change is the nursery of music, joy, life, and eternity."
John Donne
That’s a good one. And seems to increasingly sum up my philosophy
I could sit and read whatever you write and let the world go one and end in ice or fire.
You and Tracy Kidder must be related with your common love of houses and I hope I am too because your love for houses filled with memories are the only kind for me.
I am your twin sister once or thrice removed. It is clear in the way Tom's writing affects our souls.❤️
I think we should wear green hats as members of his fan club.
OMG, this is your whole life journey already reflected in your house theme, and despite the awful Unbound fiasco and sudden departure from your present home, you sound energetic.
Thank you, Tom, and congratulations on your books.
I've never understood this obsession with the ownerhip of property. Why? So you can pass it down to the next generation who'll almost certainly sell it. It just seems like another of the greedies ways of ensuring no one else can get any enjoyment out of something. And this idea of people owning dozens of houses and renting them out at a cost that most people can't afford, just to fill selfish arseholes obsession with money is repulsive. And meanwhile the government sit idly by doing SFA about it!
Ownership means security, to decorate as you like and grow trees...and since UK pensions are so bad (worst in Europe/West) owning a rental property is the only way to live after retirement.
Well- I enjoyed the article very much. Second time of reading, and there will be more even if you don’t repost it. Thank you!
Tom: so very sorry to read about another move being necessary for you two. You do sound positive about it, but I’m sure it’s a bit of a PITA. As for Unbound- whatever name they’re currently trading under, I’m afraid they are behaving like scoundrels. Grrr. You have our sympathy, not that that’s an awful lot of use. 😭😡💐 Very best wishes for the next chapter.
Hi Tom, I really feel for you and your partner in your current predicament at the moment. My husband and I went through something similar a couple of years ago. Our landlady wanted to sell the house we had lived in for a decade, but she accepted our offer to buy it from her, then the day after we got the letter saying our offer was accepted she withdrew from the deal, and the day after that we received a section 21 notice giving us 2 months to leave. As we are both disabled it went from relief to utter nightmare in the space of a few days. All I can say is trust the Universe, something will come along just at the right time. In our case, right at the last minute.
Also, your previous publishers are fuckwits and loonies of the highest order. Again, hopefully the Universe will give them what they deserve.
All will be well!
Thanks Helen. Gosh, that’s awful. I am sure there are some really nice, kind landlords out there. But the empirical evidence often seems a bit thin on the ground.
Why are people like that! Also being disabled I can relent to that in the necessity of living in the right place for ourselves in more than one way. You have my empathy. I hope things are better now.
Thank you, Phoebe. It's not perfect, but it could have been a lot worse :)
Positiveness is such a bonus isn’t it!
Adored this!!!!
Wow: "Are we allowed to be contradictions?"
Thanks Stephanie!
Given what you've previously said about Unbound, I'm not surprised that they're still being dicks, but I'm sorry that they're doing it to you.
Your writing is so evocative, a poem that lets me see the places you've been and share your feelings about them.
I'm 67 and have never been able to own a house. I probably never will. I've moved so many times that I lost count a long time ago. This has left me with two core beliefs about my dwelling place:
1. Wherever I live, whether dorm, apartment, or street corner, is my house.
2. No place is home that doesn't have cats in it. I grew up surrounded by cats, and ever since then, I don't feel complete without cats.
I hope you and your partner find a house that you love.
Ditto about cats!
I'm so heartsick for you about Unbound's dastardly shenanigans. I also hope that you find somewhere new to live that's utterly fabulous.
You are a beautiful writer with the ability to stir emotions. I dunno, maybe it's the perimenopause but my eyes are welling up.
Oh Tom, all best on the move. It's tolerable when you can do it in your own time, but abhorrent on theirs. And the cats will have to learn a whole new area! I'm moving sometime this year, but my cat died in September and it's kind of a relief; he was born in the backyard, lived here his whole 17+ years, and didn't do well with change and strange people stomping about the house lifting furniture. Will settle into the new place and then I'm sure the Cat Distribution System will provide.
Glad at least the giant piles of books won't have to be moved again.
As to your ex-publishers: I think DAD spoke well -- WOFFAL!
So inspiring. I feel a bit the same about houses in romantic locations, but being a city type, I just dream on happily. I've owned my house for 41 years and satisfy my wanderlust with travel. I'm waiting for your new book to be published and in the meantime, I think I should subscribe. 🤔. I love your writing and credit Mark Diacono for introducing me to Substack. He writes beautifully too. So much quiet humour (you can see I'm not American). Very best of luck in finding another amazing house. I share your nesting instincts and have commented previously on your lovely rug(s).
Thanks so much, Jane! @Mark Diacono is fab!
Tom, tell me truth, it's been you moving town signposts around the westcountry isn't it? I'm sure Midsomer Norton was happy to masquerade as Frome, but not so certain the feeling was reciprocal
https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/cjrn52vld97o
As someone who has moved 30 times (29 in 39 years until my first purchase) I feel both your pain and your obsession.
Tom dear, think of change as more fodder for your imagination.
Your “Dartington years” always sounded fun and your fourth dimension writing about the “Magic” home on the Dartington Estate, stays with me and in my dreams.
Clear your mind and find a cloister for you, your partner and cats to inhabit.
Northerner mainland Greece ?
Could be . . .