On Monday the lean-to construction on the back of my house was demolished. You can’t really grace it with the name conservatory, although that is presumably what it was originally supposed to be. It had become a glory-hole, swallowing large quantities of mostly rubbish. It had been due to come down for nearly 20 years, and as is often the way, what finally tipped the balance was a snap decision. Now, not only has the lean-to gone, but, hooray, so have 90% of its contents. I was standing in the sitting room as the roof came down. It was as if someone had drawn back a heavy curtain. Light flooded in. The room positively changed shape. The cat became confused – so many sunny spots to choose from.
Isn’t it amazing what we put up with? For years I have tolerated this monstrosity, and the way it cut light from the house. I’ve overlooked my own rubbish every day, and yet somehow managed not to see it. The dark side of the room attracted even more stuff, establishing itself as a general dumping ground. And every time I arrived at my house, I was met by my own junk, advancing down the garden towards me.
And yet what did it take to make me take action? The builder said “I hate to send a skip away half empty.” I pointed at the lean-to and said “Will that fit?”
And the moral of this story is what? I had all the permissions I needed to be able to take action – I was ready for change. I had the builders here already so my appetite for change was whetted. Or simply the wind was in the right direction