Today’s the day. After six months of excitement, disappointment and anguish, we are finally moving house!
I’ve loved my six years in Priddy’s Hard. I never thought I’d live in Gosport, but this lovely house kept popping up on Rightmove and on my first visit I knew I’d found my new home.
This house was my cave, my sanctuary. Slowly but surely, the feminine touch has been added and now the time has come for my wife and I to have our own home together.
Gosport has been a fabulous place to live. A wonderful seafront, a High Street with everything you need in it and the great discoveries of Stoke Road.
We’ve liked it so much, we’re staying in the area. So from today, we’ve joined the ‘Alver-stocracy’ as one friend put it.
We married in Alverstoke, spend our weekends walking the dogs there, so why not live there?
The process of actually moving has not run smoothly.
We found our dream house in February, our second offer was accepted and I accepted the second offer on our place in Priddy’s Hard.
But two weeks later came disaster. Our dreams were shattered as our buyers got cold feet.
Cue panic stations and lots of viewings of our place. Many times our house made the final two, but many times we were disappointed.
A month later and the dream house had gone. It was a bitter pill to swallow – and even harder seeing our prospective buyers in our local, laughing away.
I’ve heard the saying ‘everything happens for a reason’ so many times over the past few years. And it is so true.
One Saturday, we were out in the car and by chance spotted a house that had just gone on the market.
A quick call was made and we were one of the first to visit. It was perfect. We offered the asking price to be sure of not missing out again.
All’s well that ends well as new buyers for our house were found. They have fallen in love with it as much as we did, so I know it will be well looked after.
A new era begins for the Jacksons, including washing up as there is no room for the dishwasher!