I looked at about 12 houses when we were househunting 8 years ago. Of all those houses, most were cold and sterile - the people hadn't been there long enough to make an impression, and the house didn't want us there. One was positively uncomfortable, but that could have been the disgusting wallpaper or the obviously displayed fact that the owner had severe political beliefs that were possibly even stronger than that of Iain Paisley. This one, the one we bought, was my house as soon as I walked in the door. It would have always have been my house even if we'd not been able to buy it. It is my house even though Manitas pays for it.... it felt like my house as soon as I set foot in it, and it will still be my house when we leave.

My other house is a 16th Century farmhouse in Dorset. It's still my house even though I've not lived there since 1975. I look at it every time I pass it and wonder if the people in it are as happy as I was... by the look of what they've done to the best parlour, I'd say not. The house certainly isn't happy with them!

LTS