How is it you know that the house you are about to buy is the house for you? When we drove into the street and parked I knew instantly that the house was the house for me. It had an air of prosperity and well being and I immediately fell in love with its character and outlook. I literally flew down the driveway and as soon as I stepped through the door I was filled with warmth. Strange as it seems I cannot account for this sense, almost a kind of ache of familiarity - of coming to a place that knew me and seemed to engulf and expect me. I went through the house in seconds and walking through its bare rooms the feeling remained.

I know that the house reached out at me with a certainty of knowing. Certainly, on a conscious level I felt warmth. How can one have expectations without memory? A strange familiarity - it knew me as I knew it - I felt as if I had come home. Everything seemed so oddly and yet so comfortingly familiar. I’ve attempted to connect the place to memory or a dream, to help me process an explanation for the familiarity and warmth I felt. The call of the place, its knowingness, the longing it evinced makes it all quite certain, even before I knew it myself, that the house had its origins in my existence and was waiting for me.

Yet, as much as I love the house and care for it, I know that at some point in time the house and I will part. This knowing does not sadden me as I am only a guardian of this place but I also know that when I leave a part of me will remain. As the house ages, so will its memories, its very being. The house will live, grow and age, as I live grow and age. As I move on so will the house.

The time will come when its calling will once again be heard and another family will find contentment within its four walls ...