I took a walk this morning to the end of my road and turned left. It was a sunny day and I needed to get out of the house. Things were closing in and I needed a breather, besides I had an errand to run and sometimes I am so fooled that even I believe it could turn out okay even when all the signs and warnings say that it won't.
Ah well, another day, another delusion.
At the end of my road is a village, well village is the loosest of terms. The villages of my youth were not full of hipster barbers, shabby chic florists, wine bars, restaurants or charity shops where you can buy a Christian Dior suit for ninety quid and as always the shoes of the women matched the colour of their cars. Range Rovers and Ferrari were parked on the pavements like a dog had taken a shit (well, when I say dog I mean poodle) and jettisoned its biscuit allowance for the month. But it did look pretty and quaint even if there was no ducking stool or pond to duck in.
I’ve lived in my house thirty summers, but come here only once or twice a year and usually through necessity like a trip to the post office. It isn’t that it isn’t lovely or as close as close can be, it’s just not (or is) me. In my head I stand out like a running sore and I know (despite the foresight and hard work so that I can be here living the Hale life) that I’m lucky to live in this most sought after area. It is so la-di-da (applause, applause) and if I wanted there are fifty restaurants that I can walk to in ten minutes and all of then great, five stars on Tripadvisor. But I generally cook and eat at home.
Anyway, enough of that; I just needed to get my errand done and get home to continue with life and all the tribulations of the last few days. Things are not so great at the moment and the blue sky and air did me good even if when I got back home the phone rang with more bad news. For a moment though, as I walked under the Scottish crosses made by the jets, watching men in suits hurry along the street making deals, I almost felt happy - it’s the detail you see and not the experience.
The rest of the day went downhill from there and fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. but I can always walk into the village again.