(c) ArtsyBee via pixabay

‘We’re downsizing.’

Words that must spring terror into any estate agents’ mind. You know the type of house buyer I’m talking about. Middle-aged couples, childless or childfree with equity wrapped up in a large house somewhere and looking to de-clutter, downsize and re-value their remaining years.

That’s us!

As (she says in a hopeful whisper) we’ve moved one teeny-tiny step closer to moving, we decided to check out a few prospective houses last weekend.

Like many people, we’ve been addicted to the property porn sites for years, dreaming of a fresh start somewhere new. We’re hoping to move to the south coast. Lyme Regis if I ever win the Lottery. Failing that, somewhere within ten miles of it – it’s my favourite place in the whole world.

Of course, house hunting from a distance brings problems. There’s only so much you can do online. No matter how much you study the floor plan, scrutinise the artful photographs and track the neighbourhood on Streetview, you have to put a real, non-virtual foot onto a real, non-virtual doormat at some point. And if you have to squeeze a lot of viewings into a short weekend it all gets a bit intense.

Armed with our trusty tape measure, the realities of downsizing hit home with a vengeance (pun intended). Yes, we know we’ll have to jettison furniture, choose which bits we actually use and are therefore going to come with us. We know we’ll have to streamline our lifestyle.

We know the theory. The reality is something else.

For instance, I have a beautiful oak dining room table. Used at Christmas and for the occasional dinner party, it sits looking resplendent but lonely in the dining room – while we eat in the kitchen. I love it – but do I love it enough to reject the perfect kitchen diner it’s not going to fit into? Of course not. It would be silly to base a £300,000 decision on a £2000 table. And certainly not one that’s hardly used. ‘But I love it!’ I hear myself whine.

Then there’s my study. My lovely room where I write, listen to music and read – otherwise known as spending an unfeasible amount of time staring out through the window. Am I really going to have to put up with a corner of a bedroom, or a space estate agents optimistically call ‘the study area’ on a landing. With our budget, it’s looking likely!

The one thing we can’t compromise on is the garden. Our Springer has a propensity for escape that makes bids for freedom from Colditz look amateur. We must have outside space that is secure, or at least easily made so. This rules out quite a few promising houses.

Yes, despite my whinges, the dogs’ needs are definitely coming first. Cue much eye rolling from the accompanying agent. But, if the dogs are happy, then so are we.

Or – here’s another idea – maybe we should delay the move until after the dogs have shuffled off their snuffly coil? Then we could have a nice flat with a balcony just big enough for a pot plant and with panoramic sea views.

Sigh. Bet there still wouldn’t be room for my dining table though.

Love,

Georgia x

PS Have you downsized lately? Please send me your tips for survival!