Because I wanted the house to look as lovely as possible for the open homes I retrieved an old London habit of buying flowers from the fruit shop. I’d forgotten how much pleasure there is in a simple bunch of flowers. I had gone off flowers in a big way when my husband died and I now think of florist shop flowers as funeral flowers. I don’t like the stiff, formal arrangement in layers of paper that gets immediately thrown out but I do love bunches of the same flowers. My favourites are poppies, violets, and the blue and purple flowers whose name always escapes me.
Most fruit shop flowers are around 6 dollars so I am going to continue treating myself as they bring such pleasure.
They must have worked as we had a pre-auction offer straight after the first weekend of open homes which we accepted, brought the auction forward and it was sold before the billboard advertising had gone up. The sold sticker went up the same time as the billboard. I am a little sad for the people who made the pre-auction offer as they didn’t actually get the house and that must have been horrible for them.
We don’t move out until July 3.
I have started attending a small poetry group and this is the poem I took along for it. I am still working on it.
Packing Up the Ties
Sitting amongst the packing boxes
He is sorting his ties. Some came as sets
with matching shirts, paisley was in for a while.
He has divided them into keepers and op shop.
Tweetie Bird is definitely op. Others he is not
so sure. The colour appeals or nostalgia.
Silk and stripe, bought at Waterloo station, the OE stint.
Gifts from friends with dubious colour sense,
The tie in the shape of a trout.
Actually he doesn’t wear ties anymore.
Still, the keepers are folded neatly for storage,
the ops in a recycled bag.
Loosened and loosed
they lie around our separate necks.
Nooses, now useless,
except for weddings or funerals
We will not attend together.
Have a good week. FG.