At the start of the month, we had a really lovely holiday in North Wales. I blogged about our happy, relaxing, and fun week away here on the blog.
Unfortunately, our homecoming wasn’t quite as pleasant as our time away. We came home to the usual exciting pile of post sitting on the door mat. When there is a big enticing mound of unopened letters to be ripped into, I am afraid I get almost as excited as our two year old – Georgie yells “post!” and legs it to the front door every time she hears the letterbox bang.
Hidden in this happy looking pile, however, was a letter I’d have rather done without. One for me, and one for my husband. Imposing A4 envelopes with our letting agents logo on the outside and a growing sense of doom in the pit of my stomach. I opened it, read it, and let out a strangled gasp of shock and dismay.
Our landlord has terminated the lease on our tenancy. The six-month break clause we didn’t want is being used to turf us out.
What seems to make the blow extra cruel is our termination date… our five year wedding anniversary. James has been planning our celebratory evening out since December, and my dreams of a fun night out with my husband – a huge rarity for us – seemed to fade away instantly.
I will never forget the shock of coming home, happy & relaxed, to that awful letter. The panic & worry of it all, and the horror that all the expense & stress of moving house was starting all over again.
This house, which we love, is not going to be our home after all. Georgie will have to leave the garden she adores behind in December. We have worked so hard to turn the space we have into a fun place for the girls to enjoy, and now that effort seems wasted. We only got this house in June and now we have to pack up and transplant our lives all over again.
There are boxes we didn’t even get to do more than open.
We have no idea why the landlord has chosen to terminate our lease. He either hasn’t told the letting agents, or he won’t let them tell us. It could be that he has decided to get out of the landlord game, or wants to sell up… or it could be that he doesn’t like us living in his house. I hope it’s the former but I fear the latter.
We know that he considers us “problem tenants” after we insisted that the central heating, leaking toilet & faulty smoke alarm were repaired. We complained about the integrated dishwasher listed on the paperwork that failed to clean dishes but was one of the reasons we were happy to pay the higher rent, but it has never been repaired or replaced.
So, the stress and time-consuming packing of boxes has to begin again. I’m grateful I did so much sorting of belongings back in May as this time around I can just throw things in boxes and put them aside.
Every cloud has a silver lining, however, and this is ours: instead of looking for another place to rent, we are hoping to BUY a house instead. Hooray! My in-laws are being incredibly generous and kind to us, helping us out financially to enable us to secure a mortgage. We have started talking to mortgage companies, had a provisional “yes we should be able to lend you lots of money,” and are viewing some houses next week!
We know it’s unlikely that a house will be sorted out by December, so we are both going to impose on the hospitality of our mothers. Georgie, Lydia & I are heading down to stay in Cornwall for a bit, and James will be occupying his mother’s spare room up here in the West Midlands.
Not the ideal situation, but the girls will enjoy their extended “holiday” at Grandma & Grandads… and James will have to try his best to stay sane in a house with at least half a dozen Norwich Terriers! I have no transport of my own so will be at the mercy of my Dad & the twice-weekly bus that frequents their beautiful but remote village.
Exciting times lay ahead. In the meantime, I will be following my own tips and preparing to move my family once more.