Playing house

· life ·

I've lived in a lot of different places. At one point (as a PhD student) I was moving on average once a year. In the last few years I've settled down a bit, and stayed in one place for a while, but still none of these properties felt entirely like home. That's partly because they were all rented, and consequently I had to put up with other people's choice of decor and furniture. But I'm also starting to think that none of them felt like home because they didn't make me feel like a Proper Adult.

In contrast, the house we've just moved in to is a Proper Adult House. It's a typical semi-detatched suburban home dating from the 1920s or 30s. They're not exactly in fashion now, which is a great shame as they are comfortable, spacious homes. After all, they were built in a time of increasing prosperity, when newly well-off shop-keepers and small business people started to move out of the city into quieter, cleaner, more rural areas, while still being close to their place of work. Perhaps people see that as being a bit smug and 'Middle England' now, but having come from a series of slightly grim flats in run-down areas, I see smug and Middle England as a bit of a step up. Some features of the house strike me as being particularly adult: