Thursday December 30, 2004
|Getting back to normal
We did the postponing thing again with Tesco’s today in honour of Graham’s poor eye which, while much improved and far less painfull, is still too swollen for him to go out. I suggested he wrap up warm and take a short walk, which he said he would do. I’m not sure he did, however, unless it was while I was out at Spilsby, posting an eBay packet and enjoying the steady return to normal feel.
I shall be interested to see what Boston is like now after such a long holiday. Of course, with so many people taking leave of absence to join the two holidays—Christmas and New Year—together, the holiday goes on. Interminably.
When I was at work I used to refuse to take leave in the two or three days between the two main public holidays, preferring to go in to an almost deserted office and get more real work done than in as many weeks when the place was populated normally.
When I got back from Spilsby I was seized with an enthusiasm for action and set to the task of rooting through one of my boxes, sorting the contents into four piles:
- Things I can’t part with and which must be with me at all times
- Things I can’t part with but which may be put into our personal storage
- Things I can junk
- Things I can sell on eBay
Among the latter were a pair of little model teapots I picked up in Brighton on a trip in 1997, I think, or it might be in 1998. Graham hated them on sight but I insisted and they lived on the shelf I reserved for pretty gew-gaws in the Welsh Cottage until we moved out. Never did get unpacked and put on display when we were in Somerset, far less so in Llangennech. So I thought, as one ought when in de-clutter mode, “well, if I haven’t used them in all this time, I can’t want them, far less keep them”.
“I think I’ll put these up on eBay,” I said, holding them up for inspection.
“You don’t mean it. I wouldn’t give you tuppence for them.”
“You might not, but someone might fall in love with them and give them a good home.”
“Well, if you put it like that…”
“Yes, I do put it like that.”
“Right you are, then. You know best.”
So, right after a late dinner, I worked up the descriptions for them, and put them up for sale. You never know, do you.
Before that, though, and well before dinner, I happened to look out of the window to see one of our special sunsets.
“Oh, wow,” I said. “Will ya look at that! Wanna come out for a quick sunset walk?”
“Nah [bingely-beep],” he said, engrossed with his PDA. “I’m [bingely-beep] busy.”
“Oh well,” I said, pulling on my coat. “It’s your loss.”
I suppose it depends on your scale of values, but I’ll put a splendid sunset above any number of bingely-beeps. Or bingely-boops, come to that. I’m funny that way.
A splendid sunset