We’ve moved a lot, over the years. A lot. I don’t think I’ve been settled in one place for more than a few years since I left home. It’s been the same for H as a forces child.
You develop rituals that tell you when you’ve settled in. Maybe it’s the last of the packing boxes being flattened. Pictures going up on the wall (after so many years renting, Command Strips are still a go-to).
One of mine for a long time was when I’d got the hi-fi wired up and the surround sound going. I’ve always enjoyed the sound of something whooshing over my head when watching a movie, the way sound can immerse you even when the screen is small.
Don, a gentleman who lived in the same village as my mother, became a friend many years ago and would visit on Sunday afternoons for tea and cake. I’d set up surround sound at Mum’s place. One afternoon, we decided to watch the excellent Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World. An opening battle sees cannon fire from a French privateer ship devastating a British frigate in a surprise attack. The living room was filled with the sound of splintering wood, and Don sat on the sofa hooting with laughter.
I used to tune my system with the opening few minutes of Star Wars: Attack of the Clones. A diplomatic barge descends to a cloudy planet, with a low, growling hum. I was happy with how the sound was set up if the barge made the living room windows rattle.
We’ve been in our home for two years, as of last weekend. I just set the surround up. H has shared her concerns about the “boominess”. I guess I won’t be tuning the system up to shake the windows.
Our home. This is the place we’ve talked about living for ten years. We’re planning to grow old here until we can’t manage the garden any more.
The ritual I had in mind for the place I grew old in – to glue maps to the walls of the loo. I’ve been collecting old maps for years ready for the time I found it. I don’t know if it’s a sign, but when I first looked at the house, I saw maps glued to the walls of the loo.