Home Time

For a long time, every penny that came in, went out to pay for planning permission stuff. Management plans, fees, you name it, it cost dollars.

Now that’s all over, my overdraft has been paying itself off, and I’ve been able to save a bit. Lo and behold, suddenly I’m getting emails from Experian.com saying things like; “hey.. want a mortgage?”

So I filled in all the wotsits, just to see, and it turns out that yes, all of a sudden the financial world has decided that people like me can again get a mortgage. I thought I’d never get back on the housing ladder, yet here we are, being presented with what some might call an opportunity.

Being the ex-estate agent that I am, I always relish the chance at a gander about the housing market, a bit of window shopping, tyre kicking, that kind of thing.

At first glance, it looked pretty exciting. Lots of stuff available for less than 100k. That was unthinkable when I was selling houses back before the 2008 crash. So you start ringing around, and the excitement slowly gives way to the realisation that everything that is even remotely affordable, that looks like it’s been on the market a long time, is all of a sudden under offer, probably due to the fact that everyone is getting those same emails from Experian &Co. that I’m getting.

I passed a modest bungalow on the road one day with a To Let sign in the garden. So I checked it our on Rightmove. £725 a month?? Consider this. If you can get a flat for £45k in the Dock then your repayments will be around £150 per month. To rent exactly the same property is twice as much. So essentially, by renting, you’re just paying someone else’s mortgage.

There are loads of houses empty around here, owned by people who have a house already, and this other one is surplus to requirements. They stand empty, slowly rotting away. Perhaps they have a probate on them. Some, I hear, are the subject of huge family arguments over assets. No-one can agree, so the place sits there, taunting you as you go about your business, as you go back to your caravan in the rain, the caravan that they’re gonna make you take off your land in a few months’ time, just to send you where exactly? Pembs County Council have recently banned campers etc from parking on carparks or on roadsides. So the second I drive out of here and park somewhere else, I’ll be moved on. Meanwhile, my animals will have to fend for themselves while I go and sleep somewhere where I can’t keep an eye on them.

Ironically, since my appeal refusal, I’ve been staying away from my land at night time, experiencing excruciating anxiety wherever I am instead, wondering what’s going on back at the ranch, hearing stories of goat thefts and stolen pets. I seem to spend my entire life driving around the county, using loads of diesel and accruing a massive carbon footprint in the process, all because the council decided my opd application wasn’t eco enough. Now my carbon footprint is about a million times bigger than it was when I was able to stay here full time, waiting for a decision.

This caravan is too small. It was only supposed to be temporary while I waited to build the house. Now the house ain’t getting built, and I’m heading back into that time of year where the electricity goes low and I can’t charge my laptop, and there’s no point making any better set-up, because I can’t stay here.

Do the people who have made it impossible for me to stay here have any idea of the amount of stress they cause? Do they have any idea what it’s like to be heading into yet another uncertain, cold, damp, dark winter? Do they know how hard it is to get your life together when your bottom rung of needs, ie, a simple home, is not being met?

They have an idea, I’m sure, but they don’t give a shit, because they are the archetypal, hypocritical, I’m alright Jack contingent, who do what they want and get away with it. Who make their insane rules, and only flex when there’s something in it for them, politically or financially.

I drive around the county and I see all these massive houses and I think to myself; How did you get that? What did you do? It seems to me such a huge contradiction that we are such a poor county yet everywhere the houses are so bloody nice. The worst time to go passing them is at Christmas, with their lights and comfort. That torture is due to return very soon. How does one achieve such a thing? I’ll be buggered if I know.

Anyhoo. Whatever happens ultimately depends on how much dolla I can raise for either a deposit or a remarkably swish live in vehicle. I’m so at the point in my life where I need a proper bathroom. I’m getting way too arthritic for all this malarkey. So don’t forget to buy my new book that’s coming out this week, NoPD- How to Epically Fail at One Planet Development. You can have a good laugh at this pathetic tragi-comedy, and you’ll be contributing towards that elusive bathroom. 😊 I’ll post the link when it’s ready.

Diolch muckas x


Published by Tess Delaney

I mostly only come out at night... mostly....

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