We're going to move soon. Currently we live in a third floor flat on Oldham Street in Manchester's Northern Quarter. Hanging out in the middle of town is fine for the time being, but one day fairly soon little G is going to start toddling and the amount of space we need is suddenly going to increase.
I don't think we're ready to condemn ourselves to cul-de-sac suburbia quite yet, so we've been spending our weekends visiting little towns and villages trying to find somewhere that's still close enough to Manchester for Mrs J to easily commute from, but also bustling enough to make sure I don't go insane when I'm at home every day with G. Other essentials are decent pubs (that's my idea) and a school with a good Ofsted rating (Mrs J insists on this). After applying these stringent criteria, we've pretty much decided we'd like to live somewhere in Saddleworth.
So we went out there today to take a look at a few properties. We're going to keep hold of our flat in Manchester and let it out, so we're trying to find somewhere to rent ourselves. One thing I've realised just from today is how househunting changes once you've got a baby to consider. Those cool-looking stone steps which an estate agent will tell you "adds character" instead start to look like a nuisance. Old houses split over several floors no longer seem like they'll be fun to live in. I suspect finding somewhere that fits all our new requirements will be harder than it first appeared.
Not that we're in any particular rush, though. And if G behaves as beautifully as she did today then we can go househunting every week as far as I'm concerned (it may come to this, perhaps I should be careful what I wish for). I took the photo at the top as we stopped in for some lunch in Uppermill. She seemed fascinated by the little packet of brown sauce, but hasn't yet worked out how to reach out to something with her hands. So she just stared at it. Such simple things won't keep her amused for much longer though, I fear.
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