Angel Poop- An Auction and Roxy – ‘Writing with the moon’ #Diary
Can’t sleep, it’s 2.10 am on Friday morning! I was supposed to drive back to Leeds today but think I will wait til weekend as I need a day to myself. I’ve been so busy this week.
Firstly, went to an auction with my son. He’s found some land he likes. Well … a forest. It’s heavenly. However, on arrival we were told the ‘lot’ is no longer available for the foreseeable future. My son had already ordered coffee so we stayed in the bar of the venue to have a drink. I noticed an interesting couple, felt compelled to speak with them. They were well dressed – had an air about them. Yet, approachable. They told me they were bidding on a house. I asked to see the particulars. It was a run down farm with outbuildings and various land plots around it in various shapes.
I knew they’d get the house. It was meant for them. I told the couple not to bid until the last minute or seem too keen. I’ve been to many auctions with my other son in Yorkshire. They thanked me explaining they’d not slept the night before and hadn’t a clue about an auction. Also, how much they wanted the house – a perfect family home for them.
I gave the lady my number, asking her to text the outcome. She seemed surprised I was so forthcoming. Moments before, they sat alone, passive, then some woman bolts over out the blue, offering involuntary advice … ‘me.’
Next day I got up had a quick shower and rushed out the door, forgetting my phone (a normal occurrence – sometimes deliberate.) Arriving at the dentist, ‘Jatty’ also a long term friend asked how I was? Rather than lie I told him, “A bit fed up.” That I’d lost my dog and was fairly heartbroken. His eyes instantly softened, for a few seconds he said nothing.
“He died on the 2nd March in my arms,” I continued.
Jatty looked out the window then said, “that’s on the Thursday.” Continuing, “my dog Roxy died on the Friday, she was 12.”
“Oh Goodness,” I responded. “You must be heartbroken …”
“It’s a feeling I can’t explain,” he told me.
An hour or so later I got back to Warwick and found my phone. On turning it on an unknown number texted, “hi! Just to let you know we got the house at auction.” Followed by another text from my son with a photo of his most recent ‘juice’ concoction.
There’s no significance in any of the above content other than life goes on.
Oh, and I’ve built a nest in the garden. It was a shed, some say ‘summer house.’ I keep it real. Then, there’s the book I’m writing.
Lovely time yesterday seeing Kris – her family and the hounds. All such darlings. There’s trust and I don’t say that often. I’ll know them all for a long – long while.
To conclude and diversify, above the bed where I sleep, there’s an ornamental cherub. I’ve a robin affectionately named Mr Marcy (don’t know why I’ve called him that…) It flew in a couple of months or so ago and pooped directly under the cherub. No-one’s really discussed it since or cleaned the wall. It’s like an eternal marking. Surreal becomes real. Nothing’s impossible. So much goes unsaid and more than that, goes unnoticed. Or so it would seem.
Who says night is for sleep. I’ll be honest. It’s when I’m most awake. People and their motives are often an unhealthy distraction – less apparent when dancing with the moon.
You find out who your friends are when you lose your favourite one and that was my dog. Less is more. TBH
Photo above is of a recent trip to Malvern. I was high up in the hills. Just amazing.