Many years ago one of my many house moves coincided with a period of being ill and to make it just a bit more stressful my wife was expecting our first child. This was my second house purchase and we had bagged ourselves a bit of a bargain or so I thought.
A thirties semi in a nice suburb of Birmingham that had been home to an elderly person. It lacked certain amenities – a functioning kitchen, a modern bathroom and a working central heating system. Add in some dodgy wiring, a leaky glass roof and you begin to see why it was for sale at a ‘good’ price. Suffice to say the property needed some work but hey we were young!
I think it must require a particular form of bloody mindedness but the carpets had been removed prior to the sale, not by lifting them properly but by cutting around the edge of the room with a sharp knife leaving about an inch all the way round. From what I could see the carpet wasn’t worth having but there you are, people do the strangest things.
The debt I owe is to my father, I called him the night he returned from holiday and said please would he come and help me. I don’t know what favours he called in or had to do in return but he arrived the next morning to help load the van. We didn’t have much in those days so it didn’t take long but… he stayed about a week. We moved in March and it was cold, I managed to coax the heating into life and with my wife out of the way at work my dad and I built a kitchen using sheet chipboard and formica.
I know I thanked at the time but looking back I don’t think I ever made it clear to him just how truly grateful I was for his help.