Hairy House

Hairy House

Friday, 19 September 2014

A House! A House! Australia for a House!

So, Rupert arrived home at 2am yesterday morning, laden with photos of the house that we are buying – that we should own, in sh'allah, by the end of November.
From the photos, it seems that it is almost everything I ever dreamed of in a house – at least, it is if I'm pretending to be a reasonable human being. If I was honest, I would admit to wanting acres of rolling parkland, the sort of house which would demand a butler or two and a team of servants. But I'm not, so I won't. This house is about a quarter of the size of our present house, with a garden a tenth of the size, but it has crooked staircases, perculiarly shaped rooms, cupboards in odd places, and hair. Ever since I was a little girl I've dreamed of having a house with hair.
And though the garden is so small, it is on the edge of a tiny village, within easy walking distance of woods and fields – the best pub in the vicinity is a minute away. It is on a good bus route to all the schools we have lined up and within easyish commuting distance to all the right places. Yes, I am getting excited at last!! Apparently it is very much Tory stomping ground, but I am sure that we can change that.... In fact, I am beginning to think that our presence is very much needed back in the old still-united-kingdom. Having spent a lot of time looking at pictures of house interiors on the net recently, we have noticed a disturbing trend; it seems that a lot of people need to have reminders as to what to do in certain rooms. For instance, many rooms have big letters on the wall “EAT” in the dining rooms, “BATHE,” in the bathrooms, “COOK” in the kitchens, “SLEEP” in the bedrooms. I'm sure people didn't need such instruction when we last lived in the UK 15 years ago – what can I say - our country needs us.
But of course the excitement was bittersweet. At the end of every term for the last few years, I force my pupils to play to each other and then we have a mini-party. Last night was my last pupil's concert.
Though sometimes I wish I didn't have to teach and could devote all my time to my kids/writing/playing - though sometimes my pupils drive me up the wall, I can also say that I am VERY lucky, as I love them all, and their parents, with a passion. I have been teaching many of them for several years now and have seen them grow from stumbling beginners to little people with real music under their fingers. I love chatting to them, listening to their wonderfully imaginative excuses for not having practised, LOVE those moments when I see the spark light and flourish and shine. It breaks my heart to pass them on to other people, to know that I will not be watching over their development any more. It was a good thing I was so tired yesterday – having not had any sleep the night before, due to arrival of husband, I could hardly keep my eyes open and was swaying on my feet – otherwise I would have blubbered all over them, but as it was it took all my concentration to remain standing. I just hope that when they're all famous musicians they remember me and give me free tickets to their concerts!!

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