“We've got an opportunity here, which, if we don't seize, in 20 years’ time we'll be kicking ourselves.”
Those were my words in 2019, after 6 months of unsuccessful house hunting.
Kristy and I were living together in a little 2 bed semi-detached house in the outskirts of my childhood hometown in Nottinghamshire, on a 'not so desirable' housing estate. We were both working some pretty daft hours at the theatre we met at, Kristy as Front of House staff and actress, myself as a backstage technician. We were doing OK.
The house we were living in was a 1960s ex council house on the edge of farmland and had a pretty big garden. Kristy had discovered Permaculture a few years before and I was starting to develop a love and fascination for Bushcraft and traditional living skills. We were attempting to combine our interests and passions in the garden and had installed a greenhouse, veg patch, compost heap, chicken coop and fire pit.
We were both earning, had the love and support of our families close by and were planning to have kids. Everything was falling into place, so I thought.
Hand Grenade!
Proud Mum and Dad to a beautiful little boy who was coming up to 6 months old. I had landed the dream job - less hours for better pay. Spring had sprung and we were looking forward to getting back out into the garden with big plans for the growing season ahead. But, something wasn't right, I could tell. I knew if we didn't address it, it would forever be an issue, and would only lead to problems.
Kristy had been having some little health niggles for a while, which seemed to be getting worse, and the realities of being a family unit was now starting to hit home, literally. The house was just too small.
Sitting up in bed together one morning drinking tea and tiptoeing around the subject, I remember thinking, “if we don't do something about this, we're never going to be happy,” so I blurted out -
“We need to move house don't we?”
Kristy didn't say a word, nodded, and burst into tears. That statement started a journey.
At that point, the plan was simply to move to a bigger house, still within the Nottinghamshire area, stay in the same jobs, and create the 'domestic bliss' family life that society and the media portray as desirable and fulfilling. With that in mind, we started house hunting and fixing up the few annoying little issues with our current home so that when it came time to sell, we'd be in a strong position.
House after house, compromise after compromise, month after month, nothing clicked. Never that 'A-ha' moment when you walk into a house that you know is going to be your home. Nothing fit, no tell-tale signs or guidance. Just disappointment. But for the moment, we were fine. I was working, paying the bills and mortgage. The house would do for now. We had lots of family close by. Given we had all that, we weren’t going to compromise. We were determined to find the right move.
Curveball!
I have learnt over the years that whenever Kristy starts a conversation with, “Um, So I was wondering if . . .” I need to take a deep breath and prepare my soul for something big. Kristy is always the visionary, I do my best to facilitate and keep up!
She was idly flicking through her latest edition of 'Permaculture' magazine one day while feeding our little boy. Towards the back, in the Classified ads, under 'Property & Land' she found something that changed everything. I walked into the room, to bring her the 26th cup of tea I’d made her already that day, and saw the tell-tale twinkle in her eye. She said, “Um, So I was wondering, how would you feel about this?” And then she pointed to a small ad half way down the back page of the magazine.
Perfect Pembrokeshire! For sale: 3 separate units, not overlooked. 7 acres, stables, polytunnel, rare magical woodland garden.
I read the add several times and tried to formulate in my mind an appropriate response. What came out was something like, “Have you lost your mind dear? It sounds wonderful but we can't afford that.” “Just hear me out,” said Kristy, and proceeded to outline her plan.
“We all sell up! Us, your mum and dad, my mum and dad, we all sell up. Between us we'll be able to afford it. We relocate to West Wales, create our own little family small holding. We'll be self-sufficient, and it'll be a wonderful way to raise a child.”
A few days later, when my head stopped spinning, I had to admit it was an amazing idea. “OK,” I said, “let’s talk to the family and see how they feel.”
We invited everyone out to one of our favourite pubs for a Sunday Carvery and broke the idea to them, in hindsight, not so gently! By that point we were both so excited by the plan we must have sounded like crazy people, talking lots of gobbledygook about selling up and moving to a different country together!
It was clear from the outset my mum and dad were not interested in moving. They were happy. Settled in a house they'd bought from new and made their own over 40 years. Understandable. Kristy's mum and dad, however, were not only up for it, but excited by the idea. They were living in a house that was too big and was never really where they wanted to be, a change was what they needed. The problem was, without my mum and dad's input, we'd never be able to afford the property in the ad. But surely we’d be able to afford something! Something.
In a conversation with Kristy, late at night, not long after that lunch in the carvery, I put in a nutshell just how I really felt about all this –
“We've got an opportunity here, which if we don't seize, in 20 years’ time, we'll be kicking ourselves. Somehow, let’s make this happen.”
The garden in Nottingham where it all started
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