I have lived in many different homes, they have all had something special about them although not necessarily to do with the building itself. Northfield House was one such home, my dream cottage in the country. It was a charming old place.
We'd moved from a pretty large home on the coast, scattering our adult children as we went. One about to get married, one moving to Canada and the third was away at university. Northfield House enveloped me in a hug. The dogs and I felt immediately at home, so did the cats. My husband was working away during the week and came home for weekends. The house felt right.
It was a quirky old place with arched doorways and beautiful woodwork, plenty of character but light and bright. I loved the kitchen with the fabulous pantry and the huge glass doors leading out to a big, private patio and overlooking the back garden.
To the side of the house there was a small arched doorway which led to a beautiful, hidden, courtyard. It was only overlooked by the utility room.
Utility room! I should have given it a nicer name, really. That room gave me the most incredibly wonderful and peaceful feeling. It was very ordinary - sink, ironing board, freezer, cloakroom, etc. and yet, the essence of something very good seemed to be retained there.
I spoke to the previous owner, who'd lived there for about thirty years, he told me that it used to be the original kitchen, perhaps that had something to do with it.
We had some very happy times there. Our daughter was married in the local church, our oldest son got married a few miles away, and our youngest graduated from university with a good engineering degree, as well as finding time to go on rather adventurous car rallies abroad.
Three years and my love for the house only increased, but we were on the move again.
I'm very happy with my new home, enjoy an even more rural life than before, but sometimes I think about the old place.
The house in the header photograph is not Northfield House, it is my current home, a place I have grown to love.
