No, not THAT time - the time where, at the first drop of sunshine, the local chaps decide to take off their shirts and strut around town in all their bare, pale-skinned, podgy, sweaty, tattooed glory. Or where folks wind down their car windows, crank up their stereos and treat us all to the 'BOOMP, BOOMP, BOOMP' of some hideous, bass-ridden junk that they think everyone else would like to hear. Wrong, my friends! Wrong! Keep your windows closed or your volume knob down, d'you hear? Muppets.
No, I don't know what it is about June, but it always makes me feel testy about moving house. It must drive Andy mad and bless him, he is very patient once the June Madness (as I call it) begins. You see, there is a definite process. I start by mooching around the house and either glaring, or staring morosely at the small irritations that make me think, 'I wish I lived in a country-living lifestyle magazine with a perfectly fitted kitchen, a large window seat and bunting.'
(And talking of magazines - I went to see my publisher this week to have my photo and profile done, and am now getting a teensy bit excited about seeing my first ever paid article in print on 1st July!)
And then I start making lists, generally entitled 'Things That Need Doing To The House.' The items on aforesaid list can range from 'Repaint shower-room ceiling' to 'Knock down stupid tiddle-arse conservatory and replace with proper garden room with a proper roof including roof lantern, underfloor heating, triple fold doors leading out onto the patio and a utility cupboard to hide all the kitchen white goods. And a banquette.'
(I didn't think of the utility cupboard idea myself - one of the builders who came to cost some ideas suggested it. And yes, I've had two builders in and we've had discussions about knocking down external walls, RSJs, footings and other sorts of buildery malarkey. The banquette was Andy's idea.)
And then I sit down and add up how much all my list is going to cost. This year I spent almost, but not quite £40,000. And then I think, 'Yup, we could do this - we're both working. Instead of paying off the mortgage quicker we'll extend it, reduce the house to rubble and, after cunning implementation of my now very detailed list, we'll wake up one morning and find ourselves transported to a quiet corner of the countryside next to a field full of frolicking lambs.'
It's all tosh, of course. Regardless of how even more lovely we could make this house, and how much money we throw at it, it'll still be in a town, on a main road, attached to another house and with a too small garden. Which is exactly what one of the estate agents who came out this week to give us a valuation said. (Yes, yes - I've had estate agents out, too. It's the June Madness. I did warn you. Good news, though. Better than last time we tried to sell, anyway.)
Then I look at our garden. I really like our garden now. It takes years to make a garden. This is probably the most valuable lesson of home ownership I have learned over the years. That, and check the water pressure. The next house we buy, I say to myself, I'll be straight out into the garden planting lavender and nut trees before we've even unpacked. You've got to get ahead with your garden if you want to enjoy it for as many years as possible.
And just to break up the monotony of my house-angst ramblings, here are some photos of my lovely poppies which started to bloom this very week...
...and the first courgette which I picked small because I am determined to stay ahead of the blighters this year and not fall foul of the Dreaded Courgette Glut...
Anyway, having got all excited about valuations, I then get to the 'Let's move!' stage. Andy is usually rolling his eyes by now, but hanging on in there stoically because it's nearly July and therefore he knows the June Madness is almost over. I ignore him because by now I need to get this irritating worm out of my system. So I make another list, generally entitled, 'Moving Options' or 'The List of Laxative.' This includes a) being able to move to a quiet local village because we'll keep our current jobs so we can uppity the mortgage a bit and afford to pay the 'living in a local village' premium which comes with living in Kent or b) get jobs in a selected area outside of Kent in order to service current mortgage then move there once job offers are established (but this relies on there actually being jobs available during the season of the June Madness or c) buy something outright which may require a bit of renovation thus rendering us mortgage-free and the necessity of jobs being not as urgent. We could do option C now. Option C is a real possibility.
And yes, I have found (courtesy of putting my life on hold in order to stalk property websites) a fixer-upper. In the countryside. Next to a field. With a massive sod-off garden (very overgrown but hey! What treasures might lie therein?!). Remember what happened last time I found a fixer-upper? Andy and I went on The Trip of Lunacy, driving from Kent to North Wales and back again all in a single day. Ha!! Bloody stupid idea THAT was.
And here we are. Only four more days of June Madness remaining. I've had a lovely day - reading, novel writing, sewing, poddling about in the garden - and the moving urge is waning. I think. I guess what it is, is that I just don't have the required mug full of courage I need to make that jump. Which is daft really because I've taken other risks in my life (not many - I am not one of these risk-crazy people, but I've had my moments) and I could see us buying the fixer-upper (which is not in Kent) and living there, mortgage-free and on a diet of beans (and eggs, because the first thing I would do would be install half-a-dozen hens - Daisy and Camilla in charge, of course), and making it into a lovely forever home, just how we want it, even if it means caravan-dwelling for a while whilst we get started.
But...(sigh...always an indeterminate but...)
Already I feel better for having written this blog so thank you for being, well, a sort of blogland laxative for me! (That's twice I have mentioned laxatives in the same post - I do apologise.)
And the weekend beckons! We are cranking up to a heatwave apparently, so we'll be able to wheel out the BBQ and enjoy our garden. And then we'll be safely into July.