Jonathan Dodd‘s latest column. Guest opinion articles do not necessarily reflect the views of the publication. Ed
OK. Here I am, at the end of another year, wondering where it went, and why the years seem to go faster. But then I’ve been thinking that for a lot of years.
The main thing we did this year was to move house. It’s done now, the old house is occupied by its new owner, who is no doubt busy changing it into something unrecognisable to us, in exactly the same way that we’ve changed the character of our new house. Which is all well and proper.
They might want it back some day
I occasionally meet people who go a bit funny about their houses. During the moving period we visited several houses, and became quite excited about some of them, even to the extent of making offers. One such offer was immediately turned down and the house withdrawn from the market. 
The estate agent assured us that it was nothing personal. I can only assume that they shouldn’t have put it on the market at all.
Every now and then I hear someone worrying about the hall carpet they left, or the garden ornaments they couldn’t fit into the new garden, because the new owners might have ruined them. Or worse. It reminds me of elderly relatives giving things away, but saying they might want it back some day.
Looking for a third wise man
I once met a very wise man, who strangely thought I was very wise too. We spent a long time looking for a third wise man, so we could hire ourselves out at Christmas, but we never found one. You can imagine our conversations, and I should think you’d be glad you missed them.
He was Sri Lankan, and would probably still be my friend, except that he moved to New Zealand. He had a relative who wanted to borrow money from him, and he mistrusted the fervent assurances that the money would be returned. He couldn’t really afford to lose that money, but felt honour-bound to lend it, because he had been asked.
Being able to ask the right person for advice
He asked his father, who asked him if he could afford to give this money away. He said he couldn’t, so his father told him he shouldn’t lend it. ‘When someone asks for a loan, you should decide whether you can afford to give it away, and if you can, you should make them a gift of it,’ he said. So you won’t be upset if you never see it again, and you’ll be surprised and happy if it is returned.’
I think I’ve just redefined the basis of our friendship there. Obviously the wisdom of my friend was based on being able to ask the right person for advice, which is a rare talent indeed. But the real wise man was his father, who I never met.
There’s at least one panic every day
This year was also the year of Swamp car and travelling up the A3 and back. I was still able to get home every night, which was the important thing. I have a feeling that I’ll be working further away next year, so the daily hover journey will no longer happen. Shucks.
But it’s Christmas I’m really thinking about. We haven’t finished unpacking, and there’s at least one panic every day, trying to locate the corkscrew or a certain CD, or some socks. There are so many things we haven’t done yet, but every day the house feels a tiny bit more settled, and the piles of stuff are shrinking as things find new homes.
You can’t explain things to cats
The animals have not enjoyed the move either. You can explain a house move to children, and they can get involved, so it feels like something they’re a part of. It can become another useful life lesson, part of that elusive growing-up process. But you can’t explain things to cats.
We put both cats and the rabbit into the cat hotel for a week while we did the big move stuff, and introduced them to the new house when we were all moved in. The cats are finally getting the hang of it, and we’re letting them out every now and then for a sniff at the air, so they’re becoming settled.
To stimulate her gut
Surprisingly, we had a scare with the rabbit, which stopped eating and became catatonic for a few days. Every morning I expected to get up and find a cadaver in the hutch. We had an expensive visit to the vet, who revealed that they don’t know much about rabbits, and gave us some sticky sugary stuff to squirt into her mouth to ‘stimulate her gut’.
The old garden used to be rabbit-proof, an achievement that took several attempts to complete, and I haven’t even started on that yet, so she probably became miserable because of unexpected confinement. We’ve been told that foxes lurk here, which has made us a bit twitchy about letting her out to roam in the garden after all. There’s a slight difference of opinion about it. I favour freedom (always have), and I don’t like being stared at accusingly whenever I shut up the hutch door. But sorting out the new garden is way down the list of things to do anyway.
I can’t wait to open my presents
The main thing is that the new house has a proper fireplace and chimney, and there are logs to burn, so Santa will be able to visit. As always, I can’t wait to open my presents, and I have no idea (really) what they might be. It’ll be nice to go for a walk by the sea after Christmas lunch, and watch the ships passing.
I hope you and yours have a smashing Christmas, and a wonderful holiday break, and an excellent New Year. I hope that next year will be happy and bring you all at least some of the things you wish for yourselves and your loved ones.
Merry Christmas, One and All!
If you have been, thank you for reading this.
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