Title : The 'HABITAT - Or There And Back Again...
link : The 'HABITAT - Or There And Back Again...
The 'HABITAT - Or There And Back Again...
Hard as it is for me to believe, today is a whopping 52 years since my family first moved into the house in which I now reside. There were four of us back then, though I now stay by myself as all potentially eligible women realise I'd be too difficult to live with. Perhaps they know they'd never be able to meet my high standards and see me as too much of a challenge - or it could be that I'm just an ugly old buggah who doesn't appeal to them. You decide - not that I care a jot one way or another. (I'm quite comfortable with my own company.)
Anyway, as I was sitting contemplating that fateful day back in 1972, trying to remember my impressions of moving to yet another new home (my fifth in 13-and-a-half years), it suddenly dawned on me that I never spared a thought for the house we'd just moved from (or my old room), and never really missed it until around 12-odd years later when we'd flitted to yet another new house. I've shared my speculations as to why that might be with you before so I won't bother again this time around, but I find myself surprised by the fact.
But wait a minute - didn't I say my family moved in here 52 years ago? So what's all this talk of another house? Simple. As regular readers will be (painfully) aware, after 11 years here we moved once more, then just over four years later, moved back again. On August 1st I'll have been back here for 37 years, though that time span doesn't seem one whit longer than our first term in the house. 37 measured against 11 - how can they both feel of virtually equal duration? (No point asking me, 'cos I don't know.)
Anyway, not much to this post, but I didn't want the anniversary of my arrival here to pass unacknowledged. I still find it strange that I acclimatised to my new surroundings practically immediately, with nary a thought for my old house - a house which now has such a significance to me, lo, these many years later, that I often feel I could live there again. Having said that, I feel like that about every place I've ever lived in. I guess I'm just getting old, and one's youth always seems to grow more appealing in retrospect.
If this strikes a chord with anyone, do please feel free to leave a comment.
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