Tennis again today - it was warm this morning, but by lunchtime, the sky had clouded over and it is quite chilly once more. One is so easily fooled into thinking that winter is totally over and spring has arrived.
Playing tennis on a Monday morning is a very energising way to start the week, and I am glad that for these past two Mondays the weather has been clement.
Today - as I looked across the garden, down to the house, thinking how I was going to miss this whole scenario, my partner suddenly voiced my thoughts exactly, saying what a glorious spot, and how strange it was that noone seemed to want to buy the house, thus prolonging my agony. Turning this round, I repeat a former comment of mine, that by not finding a buyer quickly, I have more time to acclimatise myself to the eventual move.
As we spoke, a muntjak deer ran across the paddock by the tennis court, a pheasant came clacking out of the hedge, and suddenly overhead the noise of a helicopter, but most hilariously of all, preceding the helicopter flapping its wings nineteen to the dozen, flew a pigeon desperately trying to out run the noisy machine. It is good that life is full of such amusing little vignettes.
It would appear that yet another putative buyer has thrown in the towel. It all started to promisingly, as always. First visit, absolutely love everything about the house, husband must come to see it, please can this be on Saturday, he works in the City during the week. Husband comes, loves the house, couple are SO charming, discuss price with agent who says offers must be near to guide price, Monday comes, do not return agent's call to get feedback. Eventually ring back two days later with offer, offer far too low thus not acceptable, silence.
No attempt is subsequently made to negotiate. This happens nearly every time. I ask myself, are most people actually not able to afford my house? Backtrack to recent posting of mine lamenting the sense of entitlement amongst the young looking to buy a house in the country. I am afraid that if I was honest, I would say that people sniff out a "divorce sale" and think a low offer will be acceptable because I must be desperate. That, my dear prospective buyers, is far from the truth. I shall continue to cut out coupons, do 2 for 1 deals, sell possessions on E-Bay, and generally cut my coat almost according to my cloth, and wait ....
Meanwhile, my life "trundles" along. Intrinsically, with each day that goes by my old life starts to recede, and a new one starts to take its place.
I thoroughly enjoyed this last weekend - on Saturday I went to a Recital given by a young quartet of musicians just starting out on their musical careers, having met at the Yehudi Menuhin School, and who then moved on to the Guildhall School of Music. This was held in a private house, in a music room that held 60 people, so a lovely intimate atmosphere. The programme was Haydn, Beethoven. Hugo Wolf and a modern composition written by one of the musicians when he was only 11, called The Twin Towers, inspired by the events of 2001 in New York. That piece was quite remarkable.
Afterwards, we ate fish pie, and chatted to these young musicians. It was a privilege.
Yesterday - a girfriend and I walked Maud and Billy along part of the Knightley Way near Fawsley and then went to a local pub for a Sunday roast. Maud and Billy were allowed into the bar, and settled down on their piece of fleece (just like a baby with its comfort blanket) the landlord provided a bowl of water for them, and everyone was satisfied.
Life goes inexorably on, come what may.
6 hours ago