It starts to become real

Maybe rhubarb? Or chard? February 2026

It's been a busy few days on the house front. 'Best and final' offers came in, and Mr Celery sent me the emails that each buyer sent with their final offer. One bidder stated their financial position and ended with "Our offer is unchanged" but the other bidder's message was just what was needed: "[the] house and garden are lovely. It’s in a great position, near to the park, river, and town facilities as well as being very private. For central Leamington it is pretty unique and we felt as soon as we saw it that it’s a house we could be happy in." As well as that message they actually increased their offer to the asking price so I've happily accepted it.

I spent a day with mum, and we did some more purging of possessions along with planning which furniture to keep and what to let go, and what colour I might choose for painting 'my' rooms. I took a couple of things up into the loft, and was reminded how much more difficult it is to get things up there compared with my roomy loft and comfortable ladder in Leamington.

The house move is now permeating every thought and action. I had a routine dental appointment, and the dentist happens to be friends with the people who sold me the house 25 years ago, so he was interested in the whole business. The hygienist used to live down the road from Maternal Manor and still has a rental flat there, and the dental assistant is looking for a house in Leamington and brought my listing up on RightMove while I was lying there with my mouth open.

At short notice I booked to go to Birmingham Symphony Hall to see David Sedaris, an American diarist, writer and raconteur who, as well as writing books, reads out his work to an audience (he's been on podcasts and even Radio 4 now). While I was on my way there I tried to instruct the conveyancing solicitor, because I'd managed to complete and send them the stupid form about where I got the money to buy Lola Towers 25 years ago. This didn't work because the two initial forms were just a taster of the horror to come.

There is an app. It requires photos of my passport and utility bills and bank statements to verify my credibility and identity (some of which I've already provided in person at their office). The app also demands every detail of my personal finances over the last 12 months, and I have no choice and it feels horribly intrusive without being softened by a hint of human interaction. 

Then it wants everything else that has been done within the house in the last 25 years, with evidence of planning permission, compliance with building regulation, guarantees, safety certificates, and specification of which carpets, curtain poles, garden furniture, fitted units, kitchen equipment and light fittings I'm taking or leaving in situ. Am I leaving the roof insulation, the boiler, the radiators, the electric sockets? Will I be taking with me the doorbell, door handles, the taps, the bath? Inputting and scanning and uploading all the information required took four solid hours.

The buyer couple is very keen to get a move on because their house sale is further advanced than mine. So they are a) not getting a survey done, b) asking if they can store stuff in the garage in advance of completion (the answer is no) and c) asking if they might move in on a rental basis ahead of completion. I've said I'll think about this last request - if I allow it, it will almost guarantee that the sale will go ahead, but if anything goes wrong then I'm left with sitting tenants. Just writing that down makes me very nervous so I think the answer is no.

So now I need to get a move on in a more focused way - first with mum, carrying on making space for everything, hopefully decorating Maternal Manor sooner rather than after everything is moved in, and here in Leamington shifting all my unnecessary belongings a bit quicker than I have been. No more "I'll have a think about that and deal with it later", now it's "Do I absolutely need it, and if not, out it goes straight away". The loft is already nearly empty except for all my camping gear, old university files (still!) and one or two boxes of stuff I'm not sure what to do with. I need to deal with the contents of the rest of the house much more ruthlessly.

Bites, a photograph, and more bites

Adhisthana, May 2026

I've been on retreat again, hence the long blog silence. It was one of the more intense types of retreat that's for people who've asked for ordination, but I found it a little easier than previously except for the temperature. The building is a bit too small for the number of retreatants (a new, larger centre is being constructed) so it's always useful to be able to go outside, and this can be a little dismal in the normal Welsh weather. So hot weather should have been very welcome, except it brought horseflies which have the most painful and itchiest bite I've ever experienced. After six of those I didn't want to go outside any more. There was insect repellent which I used liberally on the couple of long walks I did, but on one particular day I needed three cold showers and didn't want to keep putting on the repellent in between. None of us packed clothes for two weeks of stifling humid heat, and I dreamed of coming home to pick up cooler shirts.

I came home via Adhisthana, the retreat centre where I do my volunteering; it's on the way, and there were a couple of people I'd arranged to meet there. As an added bonus - and I can't tell you how exciting this is - I had my photo taken. I'd been asked to write a couple of sentences about my experience of volunteering that could go in next year's programme, and they wanted a photo to go with it. One of the community there does all the graphic design and his photographs of people are amazing, so it was thrilling to join that elite group! And he didn't seem to mind that I was a sweaty mess wearing a dirty T-shirt.

Coming home I was looking forward to my cooler house and no horseflies, but the house wasn't that cool and I was immediately devoured by mosquitos. I've been taking my time catching up on what's been going on while I've been away, and there's been another offer on my house. I've had a chat with Mr Celery and we're going to ask both the potential buyers for 'best and final' offers, after which I'll accept one of the two and take it from there.

An offer

Wales, September 2025

Nameless Man fixed the plug socket; I managed to clean all the downstairs windows (which I thought would be the best thing to do to improve the look of the place) and there have been five house viewings. Mr Celery, as I suspected, is very prone to error but so far I have corrected the mistakes that I have noticed, none of which have been particularly egregious, but he managed to sneak one into the printed brochure by adding the excited statement "NO ONWWARD CHAIN." 

One offer came in at £75k below the guide price, and now a much more realistic offer has materialised along with one further request for a viewing. I filled in a form and went to the office of a solicitor just in case I needed conveyancing sooner rather than later. They say I must complete a second form stating the source of the funds I used to purchase my house 25 years ago - it's the Law. I continue to range around the house picking out things to get rid of that escaped previous purges.

One such find is a trove of letters hiding under past family calendars that I'd kept, and some more letters in a box in the loft that had travelled with me, unopened, through all house moves since, it turns out, 1975. That was when I seemingly started keeping every single letter I received, initially birthday greetings from faraway relatives and letters from family when I was on school trips and holidays abroad. In later years it included letters from school friends and then university friends when we all dispersed to our various jobs and travel. I'm scanning or reading most of them before putting them into recycling - it's difficult to prioritise this job over more pressing matters but it's intriguing.

In other news - there isn't anything interesting. I went to the funeral of the mother of my longest-standing friend from junior school - two years ago I was there for his father's funeral, and one year ago it was dad's. I went to Maternal Manor where we applied for mum's Blue Badge to be renewed, booked a Bulky Waste Collection with the Council for the sofabed and dismantled wardrobe, and I took lots of measurements of rooms and furniture. I took my new collaborative games to the U3A board games group, and as expected they didn't take to them especially well. I have officially handed over the finances of my Buddhist group, so now I think I'm free of any official responsibility there.

And there has been badminton and Buddhism and cinema and Muscles the Personal Trainer, who is aware of my plans to move away and says that before I leave he is aiming for me to be able to dead-lift my own weight. I started eighteen months ago at 20kg (just the bar without any weights on it) and I'm up to 50kg, so nearly there. And my core strength and balance are great. It's astonishing.

What I've been reading

Lessons in Chemistry
by Bonnie Garmus

narrated by Miranda Raison

"Chemist Elizabeth Zott is not your average woman. In fact, Elizabeth Zott would be the first to point out that there is no such thing. But it's the early 1960s and her all-male team at Hastings Research Institute take a very unscientific view of equality."

This is what I'm looking for, a well written story with believable characters who aren't stupid and follow a realistic trajectory through the book. And, as a delightful bonus, I hadn't anticipated the ending and it was wonderful.

Teachers of Enlightenment
by Kulananda

"Out of the depths of a clear blue sky emerges a beautiful tree of white lotus flowers. On it appear many teachers of Enlightenment - historical, mythical and transcendental. Here are explained the significance of the figures on the Refuge Tree of the Triratna Buddhist Order."

This is the required reading for my next big retreat in June, and it's actually a book I've been meaning to read for a while now. In easily digestible form it contains all the background that I need (at the moment) about some of the most important mythical and historical figures within all branches of ancient Buddhism (Indian, Japanese, Tibetan and Chinese), as well as more recent teachers.

Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy
by John Le Carré

narrated by Michael Jayston

"The man he knew as Control is dead, and the young Turks who forced him out now run the Circus. But George Smiley isn't quite ready for retirement - especially when a pretty, would-be defector surfaces with a shocking accusation: a Soviet mole has penetrated the highest level of British Intelligence."

I don't get on with John Le Carré's spy novels. I knew this before I borrowed this one, but I thought with time maybe things have changed. No, they haven't. I don't understand his plots or characters, and when the reveal of the spy came at the end I didn't have any particular thrill of recognition or interest in how it had come about. He's just not for me.

Everything I Never Told You
by Celeste Ng

narrated by Cassandra Campbell

"When Lydia's body is found in a lake, her father is consumed by guilt and sets out on a reckless path. Her mother, devastated and vengeful, is determined to make someone accountable. Lydia's brother, Nathan, is convinced that local bad boy Jack is involved. But it's the youngest in the family - Hannah - who may be the only one who knows what really happened."

This was a beautifully constructed story, with the death of sixteen year old Lydia as the central point while we find out piecemeal what led up to her death and the subsequent consequences. The relationships within the family felt so real, and despite the sadness inherent in almost every chapter, somehow it wasn't depressing. Not uplifting either, maybe poignant is the right word.

A jolly hot weekend

Kew Gardens, May 2026

After the slight trauma of the broadband and landline difficulties at mum's, I went on to stay with Lola II and Mr M for a London minibreak. Lola II had helpfully planned our activities, starting with an outdoor film in their garden on Friday evening, complete with projector, screen and three-way headphone splitter. The film was much more gory than any of us usually choose - I was watching through my fingers for some of the time.

On Saturday Lola II and Mr M occupied themselves elsewhere for the day and I treated myself to a badminton event (spectating not playing). It was in Alexandra Palace Theatre, which turned out to be an excellent venue, and it was a new competition for young players who are at a higher standard than county leagues but not quite national team level. I had a great time, not least because I happened to be sitting next to a couple of enthusiastic and interesting men, but also because some of the people I volunteer with at the international event in Birmingham were also there, and it was lovely to see them.

In the evening I rejoined Lola II and Mr M to see a play at the local theatre in Ealing about some elderly residents in a home. It was a comedy, although it portrayed some uncomfortable bullying. There were a few delightful performances as well as a very talented singer, but someone in the audience laughed so loudly that it was intrusive. Despite this, whenever I go to the theatre I always come away thinking that I don't go to the theatre often enough.

I had volunteered to provide a 3-course picnic for the following day, so on Sunday morning I did some of the preparation and cooking for that, before Lola II and I headed out to the National Gallery to see an exhibition by a Spanish painter called Zurbarán. I'm no expert on art but I particularly liked the way he painted the textures of cloth and fabric. Saturday had been quite a hot day and Sunday was the same, but it was relatively cool inside the gallery. Mr M joined us for supper at a Sri Lankan restaurant which we ate outside accompanied by live blues music from the venue next door.

Monday was the hottest day so far and we had decided to go to Kew Gardens. The following day we read that the temperature that day at Kew broke all records (and it was even hotter on Tuesday), but we set off early and were even allowed in before the general public because Mr M has a civil service benefit that got him and Lola II in for free, and half price for me. We saved £80! Mr M heroically carried all the picnic, which we ate as an early lunch. 

After a quick climb and walk around the Treetop Walk, Lola II and I set off to book places on a tour of the sculpture installation by Henry Moore. We arrived one minute after booking started to find that all places had already been snapped up. This was no bad thing, because standing in the sun looking at sculptures would have been pretty uncomfortable. Instead, on the advice of a lady at the tour booking desk, Lola II and I visited a building where they were exhibiting some of his smaller sculptures alongside some lovely botanical drawings. We agreed that we didn't really like Henry Moore all that much, so we counted ourselves lucky to have missed the tour. And that building was air conditioned - very welcome indeed at this point.

Kew was lovely, but overwhelmingly hot and mostly green - there didn't seem to be many flowers except in the glasshouses, and roses. Is there any time of year when there aren't roses? The redwoods were beautiful too. We had a break for afternoon cakes sitting in the shade, we played one of the new games I was given by a man who lives and works at the retreat centre where I volunteer. He suggested that I try collaborative (rather than competitive) games, and this one was very unusual. I won't try to describe it, but I'm not sure how it would go down with my U3A group. We played the other collaborative game that evening, and it was much easier to understand and play but again I'm not sure if it would be enjoyed by the U3A people.

I have omitted some of the many happenings that occur when I spend time with Lola II and Mr M, including the substitution of Kenneth, Roger, Demi and Ilkley for Henry Moore, the subsequent misunderstanding of "varieties of trees in Kew Gardens" as "varieties of cheeses on Ilkley Moor", the Horror of the Permanent Marker, the falling asleep during the bedtime story and probably many more stories. But it was a great way to spend the hottest days of the year so far, and a nice break from all the issues connected with selling a house.

Going live

Maternal Manor, May 2026

My estate agent's representative, whom I'm going to call Mr Celery (because he's tall, thin, and very Seller-y) told me that he appreciates that I am not in a tearing hurry, that I now need a solicitor, and that I won't regret placing the sale with his company. The sales board is up outside the house and we went through the brochure together to eliminate the spelling mistakes, so we were ready for going live on Friday. People keep asking how I feel. At the moment it's still just a project I'm working on, and I'm not looking forward to the time when it sinks in and I become very sad indeed to be leaving.

One issue that still needs addressing is a broken electrical socket in the bedroom. "I can deal with this," I thought, as I identified the fuse in the fuse box, turned off the power to the sockets, unscrewed the wires from the front plate and took the broken back box off the wall. After trips to B&Q, Wickes and the wonderful Action 21 I could only find replacement boxes that had screws in a different place, and I hate it when I experience this sort of helpless incompetence. Luckily, Nameless Man is happy to help out, although our combined busy timetables mean he can't get started until later this week.

My last session with the Diabetes Prevention Programme coach has taken place, although she says I can ask my GP to be re-referred if I think it will help. I may just do that. Due to some relaxation of my willpower during the volunteering in the retreat kitchen I now have to take my eating habits a bit more seriously, and have laid down a couple of new intentions for the next few weeks. I can safely say that this will be No Fun At All.

Mr Celery has already found me two people who want an early viewing before the date that we had set for the main house viewing event. I finished all the weeding, mowed the lawn again, and the main thing remaining is to clean a few windows to make it look that bit more attractive. That was the last day before the massive heatwave that we're experiencing arrived, so I'm glad I managed to get nearly everything done before we all melted.

Then I headed south to see mum and to supervise the transition from copper wire internet and POTS (plain old telephone system) to fibre broadband. There was an engineer who came into the house and another who climbed the telephone pole and strung the new wire to the house. But my suspicions were raised when the engineer said he couldn't set up two wired phones on the new router. He left an extra telephone box and advised me to contact the company to activate the second phone, and told me many things that turned out not to be true. So I had a very difficult conversation with the company which has left me regretting my choice of supplier despite the very competitive price, because we can't have two wired phones on the new system after all, despite having been assured that we could.

Mum has been very flexible and adaptable, and has accepted stoically the loss of her usual phone number for about two weeks (I really hope that the company hasn't misled me about this too). She has one landline phone with a new (hopefully temporary) number and is carrying her mobile phone around with her. Lola II and I are working on getting her a couple of digital cordless phones that are relatively easy to use, and we'll see how things go.

Nearly there

April 2026

So I am living two parallel lives at the moment, volunteering at my favourite retreat centre at the same time as negotiating with the Estate Agent over the brochure that they're putting together. They agreed with my comments about the pictures in the draft brochure and Sister D kindly helped me to re-write the whole thing. The next draft I received still had significant problems, so I'll be meeting the estate agent in person to try and get it all sorted out ready for the date we've agreed to go live. I really need to find a suitable name for this very keen salesman who seems to pay very little attention to detail (Mr M may be able to come up with something...) This does worry me, but at least I'm aware of it before we start.

At the retreat centre I'm working in the kitchen on the menus for people with food allergies and intolerances. It's nice to be back and I've been made very welcome. One person has such a restricted diet that, in combination with other people's restrictions, they're all getting no veg beyond carrot, broccoli, peppers, spring greens and kale, which doesn't sound too bad until you've cooked carrot, potato and ginger soup and steamed or roasted broccoli, carrot and peppers for their two meals a day and then have to do much the same again next day. Roasted veg, steamed veg, soups - I even decided to sculpt decorative carrots just to try and make it look more interesting, even though the taste was the same.

I had two days off when I had to come home to do what's needed there, not least because the phone signal at the retreat centre is a bit poor and I needed to make some heavy duty calls. One of these was to try and find a broadband and landline deal for mum, because her current provider is removing the landline option that she needs. Running the phones via WiFi should be as straightforward as plugging them into the router with an adapter, until you consider that the phones she uses are not in the same room as the router. I think we have a solution; we will only find out for sure when installation commences next week.

In GRUHI news, the bricks are gone! The remainder were collected by a lovely woman who's going to make some sort of platform for the water butt on her allotment. She even volunteered to take the ones she didn't want to the tip for me. The clean up operation on the garden is nearly complete, inside is looking good too with just a couple more things that I can get on top of when I get back from the retreat centre.

A bit too much

Just a cow I met, September 2025

At Maternal Manor I started to tackle the water leak issue by contacting Thames Water via their Chat facility to find out how serious the problem is based on the readings from the water meter. After 90 minutes and three different agents who ignored my specific question I was passed to someone new who just gave me the answer I wanted. During the chat I not only took mum out to visit a friend but also went up into the loft to see what was there and how much space there might be - only to discover that there is a distinct noise of trickling water coming from the tank. Lola II nobly volunteered to contact a plumber. The kitchen trench is probably dry enough to be filled in now so there's a whole lot more work involved in getting two quotes for the full kitchen refurbishment so we can go back to the insurer.

I finally did it - I contacted one of the estate agents and started the process of selling Lola Towers.  I spent a full day making the house ready for photos - mowing the lawn, a trip to the tip with the remains of the garden table, putting everything out of sight into cupboards and the garage. It was all tidy enough for photos, but there will need to be a whole lot more cleaning before I'll be happy for people to see it close up. And it was utterly exhausting. 

The estate agent rep (who is very enthusiastic) took photos and measurements, next day someone else did some drone photography, and another person came to complete the Energy Performance Certificate and floor plan. The draft brochure for the house arrived from the estate agent, and while it does look very nice I've got quite a lot of work to do in tidying it up and suggesting different wording for the worst bits. Meanwhile someone else came and took more surplus bricks away, I touched up the paint on the Auditorium walls and the hall ceiling, and I remain exhausted.

A weekend with friends in Nottingham provided some respite, except it meant less time at home for the jobs that remain. A blood donation didn't go well and left me with a very painful arm, and a Buddhist film night at my house was so undersubscribed that I invited Nameless Man (who's not a Buddhist) to join us just to make it worth showing the film. That was probably the last public screening in my Auditorium. And a friend from Ireland came to stay on the way to a retreat. She is in the process of being diagnosed as having coeliac disease and has been pretty ill with it, so it's important that my host duties include keeping her away from gluten. At least that's within my skillset.

It's all a bit much, really. It's to be expected because in April I really cut down on my commitments but in May I didn't hold back, and I've ended up with a bit too much to do. But I'm keeping myself steady and focussed, trying to prioritise the urgent things and not stress about the rest.

What I've been reading

Dr Zhivago
by Boris Paternak

narrated by Phillip Madoc

"The epic story of the life and loves of a poet-physician during the turmoil of the Russian Revolution. Taking his family from Moscow to shelter in the Ural Mountains, Yuri Zhivago finds himself embroiled in a battle between the Whites and the Reds, and in love with the beautiful nurse Lara."

I just keep trying with these Russian authors but I don't get on with them (with the notable exception of Tolstoy). Maybe it's because I get confused with the names, maybe it's the unfamiliar context, maybe the Russian style of writing or the quality of the translation. The narration was not great either; none of the characters was distinguishable by their voice beyond 'male' or 'female'. The book seemed to go on and on, without me sympathising, liking or even disliking any of the characters; I couldn't tell you who lived and who died or any of the key points of the story, and it's only been a few days since I finished it.

Stone Blind
by Natalie Haynes

narrated by The Author

"When the sea god Poseidon commits an unforgivable act in the temple of Athene, the goddess takes her revenge where she can – and Medusa is changed forever. Writhing snakes replace her hair, and her gaze now turns any living creature to stone."

What a contrast to the previous book! Obviously the context of Ancient Greece and its mythic inhabitants, both divine and corporeal, is not familiar to me, but this author and her narration were stunning. I knew about as much about the story of Medusa as I did about the Russian revolution, but despite the Greek names I could tell you what was done by whom, to whom and why. I adore Natalie Haynes comedy on BBC Sounds  (11 series so far, go and listen to a few episodes why don't you) and it seems her books are just as good. Makes me want to learn more about Ancient Greece, and there's no higher praise than that.

Breathing Lessons
by Anne Tyler

narrated by Suzanne Toren

"Maggie and her husband Ira drive from Baltimore to Deer Lick to attend the funeral of the husband of Serena, Maggie's childhood friend. During the course of the journey we are shown all there is to know about a marriage: the expectations; the disappointments; the way children can create storms in a family."

This whole book covers just one day in the life of a married couple, with context added via flashbacks. I enjoyed it despite the main female character being incredibly annoying, but I got a sense of how her husband loved her anyway. The narration was good and the whole experience very satisfying.

The Prince
by Niccolò Machiavelli

"The Prince shocked Europe on publication with its advocacy of ruthless tactics for gaining absolute power and its abandonment of conventional morality."

A very interesting read of a really good translation that brings alive the scale and reality of warfare, the cheapness of lives, and the price of power in Machiavelli's world. He draws on historical accounts of Greeks and Romans as well as more recent history of Italy to illustrate why particular leaders succeeded or failed in taking power and holding on to it. "Is it better to be feared or loved?" he asks, and the answer is argued with evidence for and against. "The answer is that one would like to be both the one and the other; but because it is difficult to combine them both, it is far better to be feared than loved if you cannot be both."

Consideration of furniture

Scarborough, April 2026

I've been at Maternal Manor for a few days either side of a weekend break in York. Mum and I have continued to weed out all sorts of items - clothes, furniture and much else - and have been celebrating that there seem to be no more stamps or envelopes stashed away anywhere. We're doing a little bit of forward planning, imagining where my stuff might fit in the house, what I will put into storage and what I will get rid of. There are three large items of furniture that we agreed can be removed. One is the oval kitchen table that dad made about 45 years ago, the second is a large wardrobe in the second bedroom upstairs (soon to be my bedroom), and the third is a sofabed whose foam mattress disintegrates more every time it is moved. 

We asked the British Heart Foundation to take the wardrobe and the table; they asked if the table came with any chairs so mum considered the chair situation and decided that she could give them the six kitchen chairs and keep the six dining chairs. When they came they rejected the wardrobe saying it couldn't be safely extracted with the stair lift in the way, so I spent a couple of hours taking it apart. I took the bits that would fit in my car to the tip, and the rest is awaiting further consideration in the garage. We put a small set of wooden drawers on the driveway next to the pavement, because in the past people have helpfully taken such things. I had my doubts, as they weren't particularly attractive or sound, but they disappeared almost immediately.

Mum had a few jolly and no-so-jolly trips out. After her Covid vaccination we went to Lidl and to the tip (with the wardrobe bits), and on another day I took her to the dentist. All the people she meets at these places are, without exception, incredibly kind - the receptionist at the dentist offered to remove their barriers to parking on the forecourt next time we visit. She has new gardeners who are also very pleasant and helpful, although she is somewhat doubtful of their skills at distinguishing plants from weeds.

My jolly trip was to York where I spent a couple of days with my friend T, and we went to Scarborough together. The weekend weather was glorious, but being on the coast Scarborough with a fresh breeze was a few degrees colder than York, so I got somewhat chilled. We ate chips and ice cream on the sea front and T paddled in the sea - that's her in the photo. I declined the opportunity to paddle, being cold enough already.

Back at Maternal Manor the kitchen trench is drying out nicely with the dehumidifier in action, but I've done a couple more tests on the water supply. Unfortunately there still seems to be water being lost somewhere in the system - with my newly acquired expertise gained from Severn Trent I'm aware that it's possible that it's being lost via the drains rather than into the floor, walls or foundations.

His Majesty's Revenue and Customs featured significantly during my visit. I called the technical helpline about online access to my tax accounts, the call was answered almost immediately and my problem completely solved. Mum's tax issue on a separate call to the tax helpline took a little longer, and was probably resolved - we'll know in a couple of weeks. I hope never to have to call them again, but that hope is probably unrealistic.