Looking for the cuckoo

Friday March 24, 2006

I’m struggling to find a word to sum up our day today or, at least, the low spot of the day. Frustration comes into it, that’s for certain, along with disappointment, and anger, too. Each of those words has elements of the other two, but one single English word? No, it escapes me.

The short story, and I’m not going to document the long one, is that we were taken right up to the wire before being told that the guy at the beginning of the chain has fumbled the availability of his funds and so cannot meet the agreed completion date. He can meet a later one, so we’re told, and it appears that he has satisfied his solicitor with evidence to that effect. Sadly, by the time he’d done so, it was past the time of day when an exchange can be effected.

We’ve been promised that it’ll happen on Monday, with a pencilled-in completion date of April 24, and all of us have accepted this on good faith.

Privately, I’m not so sure. You have to go along with it, though, and not rock the boat. Having come this far, it would be foolish in the extreme to allow another weekend and a further one or two working days to make us quit.

So we’re not going to. We’re going to be good little grown-up sheep and hang in there.

I’m fed up to the back teeth with the whole affair and shall not write about it again until the thing is decided one way or the other. I shall do my best not to think about it, either. There is life outside of this increasingly grey little bubble of seething frustration, surely. Isn’t there?

Well, of course there is. It’s been an overcast day, with intermittent showers of soft rain, but the general warming up continues and, in the late afternoon, the clouds parted to give us a little sunshine. I’ve not been keeping up with the news but all the signs are there that the wild birds are on the move, perhaps including the return of those who migrated south for the winter. I’ve lost touch with the pulse to a great degree, but any day now the daffodils will burst into bloom, trees and hedgerows will start to green up, nesting will start, and beyond that the first cuckoo will sing. Somewhere around the end of April, I reckon. Might be a little earlier down in Somerset.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s