Arry and I took a rare trip up the M4 this week. It wasn’t exactly a ‘let the throttle out’ kind of trip owing to most of the motorway journey being in a 50mph speed limit lockdown but it was nice to get out for the afternoon to check out our new wheels. Well, I say we but unfortunately Arry had to stay in the car as the motorhome dealer had a couple of delightful Boxer dogs, a word Arry would not use to describe this particular breed. My first thought when I saw the massive home on wheels was “how on earth am I going to get this round a corner?” but I put on an air of faux confidence and took up the offer to give the inside a good perusal. Thankfully, although the interior had all the comforts of une petite maison, it wasn’t as scary as the outside. In fact, the cab itself (lingo for the driving bit I’ve learnt) wasn’t that much bigger than my Landie and all the bells and whistles, instantly recognisable. Sitting in seat of power suddenly wasn’t so scary anymore and visions of pootling down the autoroute gave a little boost to my optimism. And whilst Arry moped in the car, I was thankful he didn’t join me. Since I haven’t actually bought the monster bus yet, the idea of his excited self causing mass destruction to the inside is too much to think about.
I received the contract mid-week. Funny how a couple of bits of paper hold so much of your future. Because my printer has run out of ink, my neighbour Michelle was kind enough to print off the documents and to sign as a witness. I couldn’t help but be amused when she asked me to sign her Will as a trustee, such important bits of paper being traded over the garden fence. Of course, now that I’ve sent the contract back to the solicitor I’m back to twiddling my thumbs. If there is one thing I’ve learnt in this house selling journey, it’s that the seller has zero control over the process which isn’t exactly comforting. I’m not the only one who keeps reminding this self that the post doesn’t arrive same day and some people might actually be busy at the other end.
I have to admit that I’ve struggled over the last few days in trying to keep positive about the weeks to come. Annoying pessimistic thoughts keep invading my psyche making it hard to lift my mood and I’ve come close to breaking down more than a few times but I’ve discovered a way of dealing with them. Every time these pesky voices get in my head, I visualise sticking them in the trash can, just like the one on my computer. I even add the noise of the ‘paper’ crunching. Weird but seems to be working. And of course I have my dogs, in particular Arry. As anyone who has a Shepherd will know, they have an uncanny ability to see right through any pretence at bravado. Last night as I did my usual stroll around the garden before bed, I noticed him watching me as I battled with my internal trash can. Just watching me. He didn’t rush over in his usual enthusiastic ‘what are we doing now Mum?’ demeanour, he just lay by the back door watching me. Somehow he just knew I had to get through the moment and once I got into bed, he laid his head on my legs as he always does. I slept ten hours last night…..
“And when we look each other in the face..is it not as much the dog within looking out from his eyes – the windows of his soul – as it is the man from his?” (John Brown. Scottish essayist)
Widow plus woofs 