My husband and I are at the age and stage of considering an investment to secure our old age

To this end, we recently began looking into what form the investment would take, and whether we could even afford it, what with school fees and the usual bills to cover.


Settling on real estate was a logical conclusion for us. The rent would pay for the interest, and the house had the potential for lodgings when we kicked the kids out of the nest. After a couple of false starts, a few discouraging viewings, we found our little gem. Nothing too fancy, indeed, a bit of rescue remedy was needed to bring the lustre back to this particular pearl.

We worked on the yard at first, ripping down an old shed (check everything, we might find hidden treasure), and then the mandatory weeding, trimming, mowing to get the outside polished and primped for inspection.

Inside, steaming off 70’s wall-paper proved a steep but satisfying learning curve, my husband bowing to my ascendancy with the steamer and scraper. I had crowing rights for at least five minutes – was it worth it? We repainted, recarpeted and cleaned until finally we were done. What were we to do with all the goodies we found? The fifties dressing tables and TV’s, multitude of saucepans and electrical appliances? And what about the gravestone?

The late owner of the house had evidently had his gravestone made, preferring to keep it in the garage at home instead of the usual choice of leaving it with the stonemason. What do you do with someone else’s gravestone? Do you take it to the tip and hope no one sees what you are dumping (and deal with the guilt later)? Do you keep it as someone else suggested, and cover it with your own details for use at a (much) later stage? Do you attempt a sneaky plonk and run at the cemetery?

Contacting the cemetery, it could all be sorted out in a few minutes, surely? No, there are permits to have, permits to buy, and the further services of the stonemason. Persistence and a resistance to “telephone-ear” is required, as I phoned one administrator after another. We don’t have the right of burial? Well, sorry, you can proceed no further. The departed had organised the gravestone to mark his own grave? Too bad, the owners of the grave (the departed?) need to give approval…

Perseverance paid off, with no less than the director of the cemetery coming to collect the monument (good to know the technical term), for storage until permission was gained. Poor departed, finally he can rest in peace.