Dogs and other things


Dogs are for life. I have a cold, well the tail end, and after the session of coughing, Jenson came and lay at my feet. Looking at him, I would like to promise I will be there for his life and mine. At 68 it might be a big ask but I do hope this is a promise I can fulfill. 


Illness brings a reflection on a life lived. Susan and I have had a good life together. I have taken risks and she's been there by my side, I just hope I've been there for her risks. I've tried to push her to be better than she thought you she could be. I will continue doing that for her, somehow with Susan, life is just effortless.

Strange thing getting old - because I never thought it would happen to me. Well, it has, and quite suddenly too. Life these days is punctuated with little reminders. A certain reluctance, that I never had when I was young when it comes to looking in the mirror. Full body or face. Neither merits a second glance. Mirrors are in fact a perfect nuisance. In lifts, with mirrors all round, sometimes you catch a glimpse of the back of your head revealing your now strange shaped ears, too big for your head.
And a casual glance at a shop window as you pass by catches you by surprise, is that what you actually look like. Two choices. One, play the part. An elderly writer mulling over the present while constantly changing the past. Or you straighten up and walk younger, more youthfully, a sprightly step, just in case anyone else had noticed the elderly slouch. No-one has of course because no-one is looking. But I noticed. I do the elderly writer walk into the wind, still changing the past and oblivious to the here and now.

Things are changing, yes they are. Michael and Susan have bought Susan’s mother's flat and are decorating and bashing a hole through the wall to link the kitchen to the lounge. Gary has just moved to another flat in the same block, but this is on the ground floor and is not as expensive. 
Now that was a stressful day. Between Gary, Claudia, Susan and I, we moved the entire contents of their flat to their new flat in about 5 hours. Most of their furniture was new, there were more flat pack boxes in their garage than in IKEA. Dan skipped rugby and did a great job of building cupboards, chest of draws and beds. Is there no end to that boy's talent or enthusiasm? Mika's absence was a disappointment.

By sunset, I had reached the limits to what I could build, move, carry or unpack and decided to leave Claudia directing operations with the hoover tucked under her arm. The true hero was Gary, everything had to be moved at least twice on the day and then again, I would imagine, over the next few weeks until it was in that exact spot the lady of the house wanted it. One thing with our Claudia, she knows what she wants and when we are all exhausted, the flat will be the best it could be.
Moving on, actually, I do wonder if all those flat packs will ever be built.

This brings me nicely into the second topic I wanted to put down on paper. Writing is one of those tools we use to do almost anything. Normally we just fabricate the truth in our own way. Take the journalist, writes the most sensational headlines that do not have much meaning but are there to grab our attention. The true masters of deception are the estate agents. Did I say we are in the throws of trying to buy a home? Yep, hopefully, we will find that dream house we want to make a home. Getting back onto the subject of estate agents and their descriptions of a house. They are the true masters of deception. 
“Beautifully presented, detached house in a quiet area, just waiting for your tender loving care to make it home.”
Translate - a run-down house that needs a lot of work.
My favourite is when you ask them what the asking price is and they quickly say.
“£349950.00 and this one will go quickly.”
Actually worth more like £320 and that will be a hard sell. 
Am I enjoying the process, no, but then I suspect, neither is the estate agent?
In all fairness, we have seen some properties we could move into but that elusive must-have house still hides from our searching. Onwards and upwards, it is there.

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