Sunday, April 10, 2016
Selling one's house can be an emotional roller coaster. Not only are you preparing to leave your house and an area that you thought you would stay until---well until you COULDN'T, but somehow economic reality, combined with changing aspirations and slightly dodgy health, means that you can no longer stay. That's how I feel about Mt Roskill. It is a fantastic place to live; close to the city, via very useful public transport links, having a plethora of ethnic food outlets and shopping possibilities---these are just a few of the qualities I am going to miss. Friends and family? Yes, but some of them are also embarking on the same journey and I think that the new abode may well attract more visitors than I have seen in Roskill, given that it is on the main road to some pretty cool 'out of Auckland, places. 'When I drive home to my immaculately presented home, I think of the garden, the great indoor/outdoor flow, onto the deck and the office, under the pergola, festooned with flowers and creeping vines, I know that I am going to miss this place. Then add in the waiting---the 'open homes, whereby one has to maintain a constant vigilance, in case 'someone wants to check out the above place, the need to keep on top of clutter, rubbish, food smells---all the normal aspects of living in a home, that you have made your own. Now, it feels like I am sharing my home with the world, in the hope that someone is going to come up with the price that will propel me to my new life, in a town, not too far away from Auckland, but still more than a walk up the road, or a quick drive to visit friends and places. Sometimes, when I think too much, I wonder why I am doing this----but necessity rules, so Thames---here I come----in a few months. I just want it to happen soon, so I can get on with the next chapter in my life. I will not be saying, 'goodbye, Auckland,' just----'don't forget me!'