Living On-Site With Our Kids While We Renovated Almost Broke Me

Just down the road from where I live, there is a renovation and extension project underway. The house is a beautiful old Victorian waterworks, and when it came onto the market a couple of years ago, we actually went to view it. It was completely uninhabitable and buying it would have meant living on-site with our two teenagers in some kind of temporary set-up. Our last project saw us camping out in variously damp, draughty, cold spaces while work went on around us and, despite the fact that we finished it around 10 years ago now, the memories of some of the really dark days had not yet diminished enough to persuade us to take the plunge again.

The thing is, as work progressed and I drove by, seeing this dilapidated house being restored to its former glory, I began to feel really envious. Not just of the beautiful home it was clearly being transformed into thanks to the owners’ sympathetic extension plan, but also, strangely, because of the mobile home that stood in the garden, where a young family was clearly living — evidenced by the crayon drawings stuck to the windows, the string lights that were hung around the caravan at Christmas, and the swings and slides in the construction site of a garden. Maybe I’m now seeing things through rose-tinted glasses, but we actually had some really happy times living on-site ourselves — it was a proper adventure, and I know the kids now look back on it really fondly.

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