Relax. Not me. None of mine are loose and I haven’t lost one since I was 10 or 11.
But my suburb is gapping up somewhat horrid.
The suburb where I keep my studio – a house I inherited – is going through re-development. Some people who have seen their children through school or their parents into aged care are selling the 60’s and 70’s houses so that the large blocks can be subdivided. Others lose single-storey dwellings and put up massive block-fillers with two storeys. All grey slabs and modernism.
I’m always getting cards from urging real estate dealers in the studio post box promising big sales – and recently the next-door neighbour tried to offer money for a quarter of the block. The fact that his proposition would have cut off the door to the house is neither here nor there…I wasn’t selling.
Some day someone will come along with a real offer…but I don’t know quite what a real offer would be. It would be an offer that deprives me of my hobby space – that erases the memory of my parents – that makes me disappear. All attractive pieces of sadness and despair, as you can tell. I can’t wait to hit my feet with hammers…
My parents dodged the question by willing the place to me and I may be able to dodge it by doing the same for my daughter. We shall wait and see.