Home is where your parents are

I grew up in a house on the outskirts of Clonmel, up a slip road. It was just far enough out to give you a taste of serenity without complete isolation. This is a house I have a lot of fond memories of, I did spent most of my life there but in a few months time it will belong to someone else. It's not a shock to know the house is being sold because my parents have been trying to sell it a long time now but it is most upsetting to those of us who can no longer lay claim to the place. My parents have had the place to themselves for almost a decade so its not exactly fair for myself or any of my siblings to demand they stay put so that we don't have to endure strangers trampling on our childhood memories.

Much as I do love the house, I did have to admit that if it was financially viable for me (which it very much is not ) that I wouldn't buy the place because its too cold and damp and little bit creaky as old houses can be. So with that in mind I can only hold back a tear and hope my parents find somewhere they love as they move into the next chapter of their lives.

Our house is over 150 years old which is cool in an abstract sort of way but it brought all sort of realities that those envious of it could never have imagined. When we moved in, every room had a fire place. They had to be boarded over in every room bar the living room because of the drafts, wasps nests and occasional bird that would fall down it. Even now with many improvements the house just leaks heat and when I would come down to visit I would find it a shock to the system after my well insulated apartment.

It makes me think back to when I was in school, fighting in the morning to get a good spot in front of the radiator in the hall while changing into our uniforms. Obviously as we got a bit older, this stopped and instead we took to changing beneath the covers. I am sure some people feel the cold is exaggeration given what a perisher I am but I could often see my breath in my bedroom while the heating was allegedly on. 

(me in said uniform)

My old room was a hub of social activity during that time during my late teens and early twenties when my friends would come over to get ready for a night out and we would fight for space at the mirror while having a few drinks and destroying the carpet (which has since been replaced) by spraying sally hansen (tan) on our legs.

The kitchen was cold but welcoming, many childhood parties and family dinners took place there and the kitchen has changed many times over the years. It will feel strange when next Christmas comes around to not all be sitting around the table which has been extended to fit all the extra guests.

(One of my brothers birthday parties)

The office, seems to be the dampest room in the house but before it was an office it was our sitting room (my parents used the room next door) and before that it was an office/play room. It housed everything from extended games of hide and seek to being the most convenient place to sneak someone in. We had the glass door that lead out to the garden and I know I am not the only one guilty of using it but obviously its been quite some time since I last did that.

(myself and my friend Kate messing about in the office, I don't really have a tiny head) 

(Myself and Robert, my nephew, watching tv. He is grown up now and a much snazzier dresser) 

(and here we are again about a decade later) 

The office used to have double doors that led into the sitting room. Nowadays it has been closed off and a built in bookshelf lies on the other side but I remember as a small child using it to sneak a peak at Christmas presents when the sitting room was locked. The sitting room no longer has an open fire and has seen many couches over time but we have hundreds of photos chronicling our time there. From my jam advert (clearly a high point in my childhood) to every Christmas where we sat around the tree in our pyjamas, half awake and opening presents. 

(My brother, mum and I posing on the steps)

(the infamous jam Advert) 

As children though we spent quite a lot of our time outside. On the roads ,forests and mountains nearby ( with my parents obviously. My dad was a great man to drag us on a hike. He still walks a lot now but were no longer obliged to tag a long) and out in garden. We were lucky in that our house has a decent sized garden on either side and is full of trees that are perfect for climbing. Given that my brother once fell out of one of them and hit his head on a rock (he's fine now) they might not have been the safest option but we enjoyed it (bar that one incident) and they made excellent hiding places for 52 Bonkers. If you don't know the game I am referencing then you are too young for my blog. 
The lawns on either side were sloped so they were a pain for sunbathing but ideal for rolling down in a sleeping bag. 

I will miss the house and the garden and all of the memories within it. I packed up my room this week and was fairly stoic about the whole thing. It even spurned me on to sort out all of the clutter in my own apartment upon getting home and it looks a lot better for it. I will probably cry quite a lot on my last visit there because I can't help being sentimental even if this will be good move for my parents. I will have to adjust to strangers in our house and perhaps accidentally driving half way up the road once or twice before realising I have gone the wrong way.