a house visit

A friend who decided to downsize from the family home following the death of her husband has finally moved, and today I called round to see her in the new place.  It must be three or four years since her husband died, and one of the things that enraged her even amidst the fog of grief was the number of people asking when she would move, or stating as a given fact that of course she would move now, before the earth had even settled on her husband's grave.  I had assumed that she would move in due course, since the family home was a money pit, a wonderful vast crumbling Victorian pile with antique wiring, rotting window frames and no central heating, but had the tact not to mention it until she told me last summer that she had decided on it.  Then I was mightily relieved to hear that she would be staying in the area and not migrating to be near any of her children, but as she said, she has over forty year's worth of friends and contacts here in north Essex, and who is to say any of her children would stay put if she followed them.  Moving to the other side of the country to be near your son is all very well, but finding yourself living in a place where you know nobody after your son has had to relocate two hundred miles for work is something else.

She is worried about her cat, who is not yet allowed out but is used to roaming miles across the countryside.  The cat was sent to a cattery for a week over the actual move, and spent its first two days in the new house hiding under a bed, before it started to prowl the house looking miserable.  The only upside is that the cat, from being an independent entity before the move, has taken to sitting in her lap for consolation during the evenings, so at least they have bonded over the moving experience.  But she is still worried about what will happen when she lets the cat out, as she will have to do after another couple of weeks.  I told her about our cat that had moved house with us twice, and forbore to mention the other cat that disappeared a couple of weeks after our move to our present house.  I take her point when she says the cat is the main thing she is worried about, more than adjusting to the sudden shock of having neighbours while not yet having any curtains.  And she says she will boil, moving from having no central heating to having underfloor heating, but I'm sure she will get used to it.  She can turn the thermostat right down.

I promised to help design the garden since she asked, though I suggested we get the Systems Administrator to look at it as well, given the SA designed much of the layout of our back garden and has a better eye for proportion and layout than I have.  It is a promising space, roughly square, mostly sunny, and the developers have managed to arrange the development so that none of the houses loom over next door's back garden.  It is laid to turf, in estate agent's parlance, which is growing alarmingly fast after the rain.  It is by no means a blank canvas, however, since the finished garden will need to include a collection of plants brought from the old garden, plus a metal arbour, small pond, butler's sink, and collection of chimney pots, also brought with her (the pond liner, that is, not the contents.  Fortunately while small it is quite deep).  Plus a weeping silver pear promised by friends who gave the one that had to be left behind in the old garden because it was too well established to dig up (Silver Anniversary present) and sundry other gifts of plants.  Plus space for a shed, and compost bins, and a rotary clothes dryer.  Some of the lawn has to remain for visiting grandchildren to play on.  The grass had stuck itself down so firmly that I couldn't get at the soil to rub it between my fingers, but I'd hazard a guess it is sandy.

From my initial very rough sketch and list I am beginning to have the germ of an idea.  It will be better if the SA considers the problem independently, before I say what my idea is.  Once somebody has told you they are thinking of X it makes it harder to come up with an alternative that's not influenced by X in some way.  The SA did seem a little disappointed to hear that the garden was fairly level, and that I did not think my friend would be up for major earth moving or raised beds.

At the front she is lumbered with some unsuitable laurel that householders have to keep until the estate is finished.  After that it will go, otherwise it will block all the light from the dining room and half the pavement.  I did suggest that in the meantime she could go along it occasionally with a spade and sever the roots a little way out from it, so that it still has nice compact roots when she comes to dig it out.  She fancies lavender, a much better choice.  I wouldn't bother about trying to save the sad browning variegated Spiraea the developers have lumbered her with, though.  If they should quietly die before next spring I should call that a blessed release.