I always liked it, anyway.
Ok, so it was "cosy", or as less diplomatic people would say, "quite small", but I liked it none-the-less :)
And ok, so it had more of a steep (almost vertical) few feet of grassy bank instead of a garden... But still. I liked it :)
It was our home. It had four rooms, two up, two down. But it was home.
I saw Mrs M several weeks ago. She was moving the last of the things from it, and they'd hired a van for the day. I almost had the impression I may not see her again. I asked whether she'd be back over this way at any point, and she said "I've not got any reason to."
I asked if she wanted to see me when I was over her way, "Well, there doesn't really seem any point."
Oh well. It's kind of a shame, but I'm not unduly bothered. Whatever helps her get through it, I guess.
Anyway, the sale was completed on Friday.
They've just received the cheque, and she'll be zapping across the amount upon which we agreed to my account once it has cleared. (Without going through official-dom, we agreed a split which equated to roughly 50/50 of major assets that I'm happy with).
And that, as they say, is that :)
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Oh f***it I loved mine too...but I loved the wife stll far far more and so any other little differences tended to distort the real situation...
ReplyDeletetwenty years on, nobody/nothing else matters at all anyway so who the f*ck cares anyhow...
I think for me it's... I don't know... I guess it was the place that I went home to.
ReplyDeleteThat it could be better, that it could have this or that, doesn't matter. It's where I went home to, and it's where I spent many years feeling content.
Twenty years on? Who knows where I'll be. I'll let you know, if I'm still blogging and you're still reading ;)