Watering my roots

IMG_4461Been happily showing off my home where I grew up to a friend today, who put up with my excited anecdotes and interruptions with incredible good humour and grace. It made me realise just how important place is to me – perhaps because my closest family moved to greater glories so long ago. Other people have family reunions, I go and breathe “my” air, generally muttering at strangers driving past things like “How dare you even think about running me over, even though I am standing in the middle of the road. Don’t you know I live here?”

I don’t live there at all, of course. I may have deep roots, but I am uprooted – and am growing very happily in fertile ground elsewhere. Going home may be necessary, but it is more of a check – is it all still there? It is, and I am content.

And in other good news, Grandad’s clock is mended!

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3 responses to “Watering my roots

  1. When I go back to my roots, East London, it’s sad to see how some parts have gone downhill, deprivation and lack of investment, while others have been changed out of all recognition by over development.

    Latterly, they’ve started upgrading the council flats that we used to live in, with open fires, no central heating etc and wooden framed windows with gaps all around,with new double glazing and doors and a makeover of the exterior. I than discover that the social housing that was, has been taken over by private developers, due to the poor state of the estate and will be marketing individual properties as they’re vacated at market rents, not social housing rents. Those who can afford them will be the more affluent, not the locals. So, a gradual gentrification of that area,to match the nearby Victoria Park which is a yuppie dormitory for Canary Wharf.

    More and more of the old families have moved out and while a great number of migrant families live there, I wonder how long before they’ll be priced out as well.

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