Saturday February 11, 2006
A winter’s Saturday in Spilsby, even on a fine day, is a strangely remote affair. The town empties of people, mostly, and the shops are all but deserted, staffed by poeple who are understandably more interested in getting on with their weekend break than in paying much attention to the few of us customers who wander in, grab what we need, and scurry off out again.
My trip was pretty rapid. I’d decided I wanted a fish dinner but that I didn’t fancy driving into the town in the dark. So I grabbed a pack of Young’s premium cod frozen in batter, along with some crispy rolls and a nice slice of ham, carved from the bone, for my lunch. Had a brief chat with another old guy who was on a very similar errand, and then drove home to get warm again.
Not that it’s cold. Not really. There’s a dampness in the air that at one point seemed inclined to turn to a very light snow but then changed its mind. I suspect we’re in for a damp, drizzly time tomorrow and into next week.
Graham was fully geared up for the Valentine’s Ball this evening and we were able to speak only briefly. Even so I was able to tell him the good news that I’d received a letter from the solicitor this morning saying she had received the documents in good order and was now ready to exchange contracts, to complete in the week before Easter.
Exchange has been set to happen ‘by the end of February’, which I’ve taken to mean right at the very end of the month, but it could well be that we’ll be surprised, and jolted into action, by formal exchange almost any day now. I hope it’ll not be before Graham gets home on Tuesday or Wednesday; receiving notification of exchange when I’m here alone would feel very odd indeed and would mean that Graham would be coming back to a house that’s not really ours any more.
It’s all over bar the waiting but, must remember, there’s many a slip before there’s milk to cry over.