Another of my 2008 intentions was to open up a huge gap between my income and expenditure by greatly reducing my expenditure and vastly increasing my income in a bid to end living beyond my means, a lifelong habit, and to create reserves and to have more money to invest. And to be in ever-increasing integrity with what I teach all day long.
The first part of this plan revolved around moving back from the rented sector into owning my own home.The amount of rent I paid afforded a half million pound luxury flat in London's swanky Docklands with THE best view over London and my beautiful river flowing past the door. The same amount of monthly outgoing when buying your own home in London affords a 100% mortgage on a rather downmarket garden flat worth £300k in upwardly mobile Streatham Hill! Hmm. There are sacrifices to this downshifting lark.
There's no doubt that Streatham was once very grand. It's housing stock is nothing short of plentiful and elegant and gorgeous. One of my early callers (an 0800 Handyman) advised that perhaps we should not put up the picture of Canary Wharf as it might make me too sad. Bless. And also it was his opinion that I was not living in Streatham Hill, but Telford Park. Bless, again. When I first lived in this neighbourhood some 29 years ago (!), there was a branch of John Lewis in Streatham called Pratts. I was an account holder. No-one remembers Pratts now and Streatham High Road has become a ghastly race-track to Gatwick and Brighton.
One of my clients is a professional property investor who owns no fewer than three properties in this area and she tried to cheer me up about my choice, as I ducked in through my side gate covered in bird poo underneath the two (!) satellite dishes - and me not even owning a telly. This building was beautiful when I bought the flat and they had already mutilated it by the time I moved in, in the name of footie. Bah humbug to Murdoch.
What's the worst part of being back south of the river? I hate going back. My first boss taught me this "never go back" and its always stuck with me, since 1973. I live in fear and loathing of bumping into folks I knew 11-25 years ago who still live here as a choice and are happy with it. I dont want to go back in any sense, least of all to my old life. There are so many memories of living in SW and not many of them are good. There was an abundance of reasons for moving away in the first place.
SW had outlived its usefulness for me. I was tired of my business and I sold it with nary a backward glance. SW is a place for families, well served for schools and open spaces, neither of which I need or want; I hate the country. My day job was here, and I eventually got out of that a year ago and here I am back right around the corner. Clapham is just down the road, indeed one of the upsides of my new location is Abbeville Road which has a lot of useful resources including a Starbucks and a fabulous hardware store (cum deli!) called Treohans, which has everything you need when you move house - lightbulbs, cleaning materials, picture frames and hooks, cutlery drainers etc. Thank God for Treohans. But guess what I found out? THEY ARE CLOSING THE POST OFFICE IN ABBEVILLE ROAD, which is nothing short of a tragedy. Bah humbug two.
Streatham Hill is a place of foxes and squirrels and gardens and the South Circular, magpies and neighbours' cats. I always intended to get another cat just as soon as I got settled, but I have manifested her sooner than expected. Mitsy arrives on Sunday and I have fifty quid's worth of cat stuff in the back of the Beetle to prove it. Oh, but just look at her, isnt she adorable? Marion said she had seen me use that look with clients! If you think I could pass up on a fluffy like that when she needed a home, you need your bumps feeling. (Oh, sorry, I cant show you her pic till next week, its a PDF.)
I excitedly reported my wildlife findings to an Official Country Bumpkin pal, Emma, and she said "they would all have been shot down here!" She was, of course, referring to the magpies, the foxes and the squirrels but just to be sure, I had better not let her get very near my new feline house guest. Photo of the cheeky foxes in my garden to follow too. I wonder what the new pussycat will make of the fox, and vice versa? Janet, who must like the country, reported that I had a variety of birds, blackbirds included which is great 'cos they sing well.
I am gradually finding my way around South London again, all my back-doubles. And it is very quick into the West End, as was Docklands to be fair. There's a drive-thru McDonalds at the end of my road, next to the council block. I've found the Post Office sorting office for parcel collection (used to have a 24/7 concierge) and the local branch of my bank, HSBC. Not quite the gleaming glass palace I am used to.
But enough of all this whinging. What's good about it? Watch this space, my jury is still out. Meanwhile, suffice to say I am a very lucky girl to be back on the housing ladder in my own place, albeit starting over at the grand old age of 52. If I had only stayed in Herne Hill from 1979 until now, I would have paid off my mortgage and be sitting on £200k worth of unencumbered equity. Is 29 years of my life worth more than £200k? A resounding yes.
On the day the removal men were packing boxes all around me, I wrote this stonking long blog post about my years in the rental wilderness from the most extraordinary house in Clapham on the common next to Nicholas Evans the writer, to Marylebone High Street, to Docklands and back to Marylebone and back to the river again. But thanks to the vagaries of working on mobile broadband, I lost the whole thing. The Universe moves in mysterious ways. Then I packed up my laptop and followed the boys to Streatham Hill. As I called the lift to the 7th floor in Seacon for the last time, I started to cry. I completely lost it when saying goodbye to the concierge team who had looked after me like a princess for 3.5 years and then cried like a baby all the way to SW2.
To end on an up note. I have found myself singing, spontaneous joyous singing for no good reason at all, always a good thing, a clue to the soul. There was a bloke used to make me feel like that once and his name was...ah, but that would be telling.
Hi Judith,
Welcome back to the Sarf! I loved your blog entry and wish you all the best in St Reatham.
All the best,
Tim
Posted by: Tim | March 15, 2008 at 05:43 PM
Hi Judith,
This entry left me totally gob-smacked. Why? Because I figured (no, I guess I assumed) that you owned your Docklands pad, that it was 100% debt free and that you'd paid it off with all the proceeds from the cash generated by your various business ventures (the cleaning biz, the money gym, mentoring and coaching, books, internet marketing, property investing and many other passive income generating sources).
Now you admit to us all that you don't have £200k equity available to play with. Darn it, I was going to tap you for a loan but I guess I'll have to tap Nicola now instead!
On a more serious note, I must say that I think your brave to venture back across the river. Everyone knows only the best people live on the North side of the river :o)
All the best in your new house/flat.
Gareth
Posted by: Gareth Thomas | March 16, 2008 at 06:42 AM
P.S.
I'm looking for someone to assist me with a project on the web (internet marketing style skills needed - skilled on autoresponders, Xsite Pro, double opt-in, Launch Formula Marketing membership site software, uploading forms for downloading by members, PayPal payments (maybe) and creating a forum).
Know anybody yourself you could recommend? I'm willing to pay for my education. They can email me at gareth at changingfortunes dot co dot uk with their skill set if interested.
Regards.
Gareth
Posted by: Gareth Thomas | March 16, 2008 at 06:46 AM
Hi Judith, You are just around the corner from my old flat! I did 20 years there at Clapham Park, remortgaged it up to the hilt to move & then again to buy a few more thanks to your support. Still scraping my way out of town. We have got a Starbucks in Colliers Wood you know. Its not a place I frequent but for you dear anything. Please come by for a coffee soon. I've been missing you. Love Poppy
Posted by: poppy | March 21, 2008 at 11:03 PM
PS I remember Pratts!
Posted by: poppy | March 21, 2008 at 11:04 PM