Home Sweet Home

Happy New Year everyone.

Why do we write those words in capitals? Why are they elevated to the status of peoples' names, capital cities or even God? Well I guess it's because we like to pepper the year with occasions, celebrations, landmarks, reasons to get up in the morning... Indeed if we didn't have that in midwinter, here in the Northern hemisphere it would be be a difficult time indeed to get going, and we know that in this anxious and questioning world, we would end up ever more anxious, poorly functioning and depressed. On a more positive note however, it does feel productive to think about new goals and challenges and to try and reflect on our recent past.

A fairly British reflection seems to be to think about where we live, gardening, location, house improvements, in fact just dwellings in general. We are obsessed with property in this country. Almost as soon as we imagine being a grown-up we visualize our 'dream home' and all that entails. It's not just a girly thing either; yes - often females will imagine a cottage with roses growing round the front door, but our older boy has already talked about owning some kind of achingly cool, Grand Designs type of dwelling, ideally designed by his cousin (who wants to be an architect). Our home isn't there just to keep us safe and warm, it is a spiritual sanctuary, our reflection of who we like to be; the space of our deepest thoughts and personal development, our leisure, our pleasure and our indulgence. But it also is where we hope to invite others in, to at least partially display a side of ourselves we would like to share, and a place where we yield to our personal tastes and experiments. On top of that, we hope to see it increase in value, increase our happiness and keep us safe. It has to tick an awful lot of boxes - probably unreasonably so.

Big C and I have been thinking through a lot of this box ticking recently. We don't particularly need to move, though it's harmless enough to ponder these things. That said, there will be some inevitable changes to our lives which may require some thought. Our boys are growing up you see, and - whilst it's increasingly difficult for the young to be financially independent - it's still something they (and we) aspire to. Quite right too... but suddenly C and I are faced with choices that we haven't been able to consider for the best part of twenty years. Do we actually want to stay in this town? What will that next phase of our lives entail? Freedom sounds fabulous, but in truth can be intimidating. For a long time now, our decisions have been based simply on putting one foot in front of the other, making things work best for us as a family - and that simplicity can be comforting. Now suddenly with the boys poised to emerge into a new life, in theory at least Big C and I can do anything we want. There are however some big caveats to this; we still have a mortgage to pay, a need for income, larger children to support for a good while yet, plus extended family to think about. Nevertheless, even just the thought 'we don't have to live here anymore' feels simultaneously exciting and terrifying. Our ponderings therefore have turned to what and where is the perfect house. In C's case it is large, with a huge fireplace where he can stand by the mantlepiece and feel as if he's the lord of a the manor, proportionally spacious so that he doesn't have to bang his head or knock his shoulders, an impressive garden and a massive workshop for craft projects and repairing instruments. In my case, I would like it to be placed somewhere between Trumpton and Wimbledon Common, have the feel of Bagpuss, be quiet but in the town centre, walking distance from artisan shops, cafes and a train station. In case you're thinking this all sounds fairly unlikely - indeed impossible - you would be right. The perfect house and location for us doesn't exist you see. Nor can we afford it. It's lovely to fantasise about such matters, but inevitably we come round full circle and realise we have neither the funds or - in truth - the motivation to make any big moves yet. Perhaps we won't ever - I don't know. The much deeper revalation is that we keep trying to make our home somewhere where we can be creative and comforting. I can write and think about music, C can practice and tinker in the garage, the kids can outdo each other with karate kicks and press ups, mess the place up and watch sport. This Yuletide holiday we've rehearsed in it for some family gigs. We've planned and practised repertoire, we've pissed each other off and 'rage quit' (as our older child articulated), we've laughed our heads off and we've over-eaten. That feels much more purposeful than any pretence at an 'investment.' It was always the purpose of homes after all.

Contemplative music of the day: My head is still so full of Christmas music, which feels functional rather than contemplative. However, a good place to head to is a classical guitar album such as Sean Shibe (recommended in a previous post). Classical guitar for me has the effect of both calming and feeling optimistic. That's a pretty good combination.

Uplifting music of the day: 'Hairy Pony Estampie' by Alex Paxton and Slide Action. This piece, performed by this trombone quartet is mad in its virtuosity and energy. I can guarantee you won't have heard anything like it before; feel free to laugh out loud and be blown away.

Book: - 'The Trading Game. A Confession' by Gary Stevenson. For the first time ever, I'm recommending something that I haven't finished reading yet. But this book - revalatory, shocking and fascinating - feels really important for right now.