Old sweethearts

Thursday, 5 January 2012

Tomorrow painters arrive dabbing brushes, rolling awakening around my home. Builders will renovate, reconbobulate, titivate... leaving plumbers to tap into the goings on. While the garden fairies (or are they gnomes?) weed and plant evermore evergreen and flowery flourishes.

Then they will come. Discussing the merits of location, and romancing themselves with thoughts of days of old, just as I myself have done. The auctioneer will bang his little hammer in excitement (is there any other way?) Soon after, me and my tiny part in her history will be gone.

I have loved this grand lady from long before we lived together. Dreaming in her, about her - and although she was never really mine - making each other our own. She is calming, enlightening and creative, wrapping me up and sending me out into the world... to always embrace me back in again.

Yes, I will miss her dear old woody heart, her colourful spirit. It's from within these walls the last two years I've become more of who I really am. May it be a long hot last summer, just me and her. And when I close her door for the very last time, somewhere, another shall open.