I’ve wanted to write about living in a money pit for a while and have written two versions of this post already today which I swiftly deleted. This week we’ve been in our home for three years and I always share a yearly update on the budget at this time, but thought a more generic overview may be a little more helpful as I have never seen anyone really discuss this side of things before. It may be because I’ve been ill this week after a month or so of burning the wick at both ends, and my words aren’t formulating in the way I want them to, or more likely that, talking about anything financial is very emotive and nuanced and means different things to different people so I’ve got my knickers in a bit of a twist!

All finances are relative, and as I continue to share throughout the post, I am fully aware that what I am describing is a situation born from huge privilege. I hope you can read the following with the love and intention that is truly behind it.

I am conscious that our home with its light pink exterior, bright yellow windows and picture-perfect thatched roof appears to be the epitome of joy. Every time I walk up the garden and admire the bright cheery façade, I feel so blessed to call it our home. We have lots of space which affords us to do things we’ve always dreamed of, like hosting 21 people in it for a few nights in the summer, or letting friends stay in it whilst we’re away, or hosting garden parties for the kids in the summer with 60 people round. And whilst it is true that this home, and more importantly, the lives that are being lived in it, are full of joy, it would be a lie to pretend that it hasn’t also given us huge and sometimes insurmountable amounts of stress.

I am not writing this to garner pity for I am fully aware our finances, good health, job security (the husband at least,) support network, our whiteness etc puts us amongst the most privileged. But when social media is full of transformation after transformation, new this or new that, holidays here and holidays there, you find yourself feeling that, for some people at least, maybe money does just grow on trees.

So if you’re undergoing your own renovation project, this raw and honest account may feel relatable, and if you’re about to embark on one, I hope you find this insight helpful.

For context, we bought our 400 year old thatched cottage three years ago this week.  We made a good profit on our previous home so were able to use that to pay for stamp duty/fees with £37k leftover to start the renovations. The house was liveable and didn’t need any structural work, with all plumbing and electricity supposedly intact, we hoped to have enough to sandblast the beams, change a couple of outdated bathrooms and redecorate throughout.  Whilst we felt the monthly repayments were a little more than we liked, with the cash from the previous sale to fall back on if needed, we knew the house would go up in value and the plan was to remortgage after two years, ease the day-to-day pressure by reducing our monthly payments, and take a little extra cash out to finish the renovations.

However, despite renovating two old properties before this one, it turns out nothing is simple about a 400 year old property with a thatched roof situated in the middle of nowhere. Not only has it undergone decades of terrible DIY which we’re still trying to rectify, but whenever anything goes wrong, costs escalate at an alarming rate because nothing is ‘standard’. For instance, during our first winter here, our boiler was an old Rayburn in the kitchen that liked to flip flop as much as Keir Starmer’s policies, providing us with completely inconsistent hot water and heating. We don’t have mains gas, so whereas your average boiler would put someone back about £3-4k in the UK, we spent £14k of our £37k budget on a new boiler, oil tank, cooker installation (to replace the Rayburn) and water pumps.  Goodbye new bathrooms in the first year.

There are other unforeseen factors that increase expenses too. We have limited options when it comes to home insurance and internet suppliers reducing our ability to shop around. We don’t have any 3G in our area so we can’t get a smart meter which would give us access to cheaper tariffs and reduce our electricity bill significantly. We budgeted for the increased cost of house insurance due to the roof, the emptying of the septic tank, higher utility bills and the extra travel costs now we’re living in the middle of nowhere etc, but even those well-researched areas have ended up completely taking the wind out from beneath our sails (more on that later!)

Alongside the increased cost of fuel and everything else, like so many of us, we were beginning to feel the pinch by year two, with our cash gone and not much seemingly to show for it.  As I said we were hoping for some relief when it came to remortgaging, but enter the cost of greed crisis, and everyone’s rent and mortgages are shooting up. So like so many people, not only did our mortgage not go down like we’d hoped, but due to interest rate increases it went up by a substantial amount and we weren’t able to access the amount of cash we thought we would to finish off the next round of renovation work.

It's at this point in time where we started to really feel the weight of the responsibility of maintaining this home. Not only had our monthly bills gone up in every area (like so many people) but our house was starting to break. We had a kitchen floor with tiles so cracked from being laid on top of other tiles on top of rotten joists that I had to duct tape them to the floor to prevent people tripping. We had carpet falling off the stairs (more duct tape,) toilets that didn’t flush, a shed collapsing, broken fencing, a shower that leaked water through to the ceiling below and another shower that didn’t work at all. It felt like we were constantly fighting fires and despite doing so much of the work ourselves, the bills from tradesmen were flying in.

In the summer we also noticed issues with our septic tank which for a long, sleepless time, had us staring down the barrel at a bill of £15k+. Who knew you could have so many actual nightmares about a septic tank?! Thankfully after a few months of many back and forths, we’ve managed to get it covered via house insurance (Praise the Lord!) but due to the claim, our insurance has just gone from £180 a month to £380 a month! For context a non-thatched four-bedroom house in the UK has an average home insurance of £227 a year. Furthermore, the roof will need work done in a year and due to thatcher’s getting booked up years in advance, we’ve started to get quotes in which are looking to be around the £40k mark (which is just to replace the worst sections on the roof, not the whole thing).

All the while life still goes on, fun memories are made, the space in the house and garden is still enjoyed. But in the evenings, when the kids are in bed, the conversation starts becoming tinged with a little regret. When you’ve put all your money (and heaps of your time) on the line, it’s embarrassing to admit that you’ve potentially not made a wise decision. We thought we were seasoned renovators and now all I can do is cringe at our naivety.

Writing this out so plainly is giving painful clarity of what this home is costing us - not just financially but our time, in our marriage, our health, work/life balance and time with our kids too. We married and had kids young and have never lived extravagantly, so it’s not like we have ever been used to fancy holidays abroad or nice cars or expensive clothes, but when you’re finding yourselves limiting the clubs your kids can attend or working 50 hours a week with only 25 hours a week childcare, you find yourself wondering if the house is worth it.

We’re navigating daily between the burden our home can feel, to the joy it also brings to us and so many, to knowing full well that regret won’t get us anywhere and huge guilt when ungratefulness surfaces because we know so many would love to have the opportunities we have here. We’ve discussed solutions going forward and despite how tempting it is to downsize, we don’t think we could afford it. Stamp duty in our area would put us back about £40k, so rather than take that on again plus the cost of another reno from scratch, we feel it makes more sense to invest that money (I’m saying that like we already have it, we don’t!) into fixing the thatched roof and soldiering on with this home, taking each day as it comes.

I’m very grateful to have a new job alongside the work I also do with brands on Instagram, and am working all the hours I can to help literally ‘put a roof over our heads’ whilst also trying to fix what’s underneath it. It’s exhausting and subsequently we are both feeling very burnt out, but we will pick ourselves up and carry on. The situation isn’t ideal but sometimes things aren’t as perfect as they seem online. We’re safe and healthy and have each other. We can afford food on the table and presents at Christmas for the kids. Maybe one day we will look back at this time with rose-tinted glasses at ‘how much energy we had’ and ‘how much we managed to get done’ from the comfort of time passed, non-camping holidays actually had and a little financial stability accumulated.

I am aware there are many living in broken homes with leaks and mould and electricity being cut off who don’t have any hope of these being fixed. I am aware whilst stretched and stressed we do live somewhere that continues to also bring us much happiness. I am aware of so many across the world whose homes are being destroyed or stolen, not for the first or even second time. Their whole lives, their families, completely uprooted or gone.

This isn’t about pity and if it sounds like I’m complaining, let me know - I’m a big girl, I can take it.

I have always felt very passionate about financial transparency in a world full of highlight reels and unrealistic expectations of what life ‘should look like’, but if this makes you feel like you’re not alone in your own situation or gives you a bit more insight into the reality behind buying an old home then my third attempt at expressing my thoughts, has maybe done the job.

Would we move to this home again knowing what we know now? I’m not sure.

But we’re here now, we’ve achieved a lot so far on such a tight budget and despite having no clue how we’re going to pay some of these big bills going forward, we’re certainly going to roll up our sleeves and make a go of it.

Other blogs you may find helpful:

• Year One Renovation Budget - Where has the money gone?

• Living with a Thatched Roof - The pros and cons