So we’re starting to approach, with at least some semblance of it being real, the point when the house is, for all practical purposes ‘finished’. The List is looking better; much more manageable. And I was contemplating things and had a moment of “Oh my god, what am I going to do when it’s finished, how will I fill my time?”
It was quite weird, this sort of unnerving foreshadowing of what it’ll be like when I retire. And then I paused for a moment and mocked myself mercilessly.
I spend most of my time going “Oh, I’d really like to do [thing], but I should work on the house”. My Morris Minor, my photography, my music, my reading, my electronics stuff, dinking more thoroughly with computers? It’s all been put on hold for 9 years as we’ve renovated one, and then a second house. In addition we’ve got business planning, and moving planning, and gardening… and all the other hobbies.
So that was odd.
The other odd thing was actually feeing some pride. Just standing in the hall and going ‘This is us. This is our house and we made this‘. Christ knows how bad I’ll be if we do ever get to build our own house.
