It’s not getting hot in here

In which I start to turn the heat up

The weather in the UK is starting to turn and it is beginning to feel autumnal. Leaves are changing colour and back at the Castle Sum we are having that most awkward and divisive of conversations.

When are we going to start having the heating on.

It’s October so the date criteria has been met (it cannot go on any earlier) but is it just chilly or is it properly cold. Once the thermostat is set then that’s it until spring, so judging the right time is vital. For Mrs G that time is now.

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Room to share

In which I learn to share.

Knowing that Dino #2 is on the way means that we need to reconsider our accommodation arrangements. Living in a three-bedroom house is great for it will meet our minimum requirements, but the addition to the family will cause potential future issues.

I know this because I have lived through them myself, having two sisters, and it is clear that we are going to have to careful consider the room allocation for our offspring.

Throughout my childhood I lived in three bedroom houses, with one for my parents and the remaining two divided between three. Being the only son this was great, I was able to have my own room whilst my sisters shared. Considering one was tidy and one was not it is unsurprising to know that this was a constant source of comment.

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There’s no French word for home

In which home is where the wifi is accessible.

I thought I would begin with a bit of Franco-baiting, but in English there is a clear difference between what a house is compared to a home. Ignoring the particulars of what a house is (as in type of building) it is generally true that while every home is a house, not every house is a home.

At some point the bricks and mortar, or alternate construction materials, take on extra meaning and change from somewhere simply to provide shelter to a object of sentimentality.

Mrs G at the weekend started to feel a little sad that we are thinking of selling our home in the future. Now I don’t want people to get excited…announcing that you are thinking of doing something in the future is not a cause for everyone around you to start celebrating. That said I’m not going to get upset if people aren’t happy because we are thinking, but not doing it yet, of something in the future.

The reason she felt sad was after a few years the place we come back to has ceased to be a house and is now our home.

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Looking out my window at home

In which home is where it’s easiest to live.

Living with an American I am used to the thought that I may have a nomadic life, our family by its nature will be one with a foot on either continent. Without moving one extended family 3,000 miles in one direction me and Mrs G will never both be ‘home’. We could lead a life where we jet back and forth between New York and the English Midlands, but sitting here looking out of the window suffering from jet lag shows I’m not cut out for the Transatlantic lifestyle.

We’ve just got home from New York leaving the bright lights of a double named non-sleeping city for the, well um, exemplary concrete architecture of Coventry. A couple of days ago I was sitting in a living room where the streets with a ‘th’, ‘nd’ or ‘rd’ in itheir name. I getting on the train to Grand Central instead of the London Midland to Birmingham New Street. I’m happy that we have set roots down but what if we were in a position to move around more. Where would I go?

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