Notes from the Diary, 2022-2023

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August 8th – August 15th, 2023

When I told him it was the last mow, so cut the grass shorter than usual, the man said ‘I’ll miss this lawn’.. The solicitor answered my questions about completion, then said they’d take care of things now and I ‘could put my feet up.’

As if. A quiet frenzy of putting things into other things, files into boxes, clothes into special cartons, ‘the capsule collection’, mini-library and essential papers for the spare room kept separate… and ongoing shifting about – an unstately progression of stuff heading down to the front room or the yard – removals within removals….and miles to go before I sleep.

But also farewell drinks and lunches at out-of-town inns with names like The Horse and Jockey and The Pear Tree. Hugs but no tears, until someone said,’We’ll meet again’, some of us too old to be sure of that.

The outhouse now filling up, but as the wardrobes and cupboards slowly empty, the house itself begins to revert to how it was when I first moved into it. The last visitor came and went.

A chapter of more than 11 years now about to close. The elder son hired a small van to take another load south to Islington and Portsmouth and soon his brother will arrive to help with the last of the packing-into-storage, ready for the Removals people, who will arrive in bigger vans.

Then it will be time to say goodbye to the house and the garden, to the cathedral and the city itself. A moment so long in the making will arrive to meet me. The leaving of Lichfield.

This is the last entry from the Midlands. Thank you for reading the Notes. Pensionista must pause now, but wlll return in the autumn. Love, Tessa.

August 1st – August 7th, 2023

Only early August, but it seemed to get dark much earlier than the week before – and still fell the rain. Turned on the t.v. – which felt pleasantly illegal, because the license had run out days before and I hadn’t renewed it. Then switched to Netflix, which was permitted… A friend came round, sat on a garden chair surrounded by plastic boxes and clutters of carrier bags, seemed to enjoy the chaos, then put some unwanted items in her car – a mirror, a ‘leaf grabber’, a lamp, a cushion, a pot and a pan – then took them away.

A festival of lists. Like who to inform when you move and the longest: what was going where, which got its very own folder – because the remaining belongings were soon to be scattered to the four winds….

The last time I contacted Virgin Media ‘customer services’ I lost the will to live, but I needed to cancel the contract and picked up the phone prepared for battle… So no, I couldn’t provide the third character of my memorable word because I couldn’t remember it. A pause, then the robot began to read from a script – how to deal with callers with dementia – interrupted by my saying the matter was urgent and I was an extremely vulnerable customer, whereupon it agreed to add my son’s name and details to my account so he could act on my behalf, as long as he could supply the memorable word…

July 25th – July 31st, 2023

Mid-week. The estate agent had a message from the buyers. They didn’t want the double bed after all and would they be able to use their copper-bottomed pans on the electric oven’s hob? Had no idea but said I’d dig out the manual.

My old friend the boiler made a series of funny noises, as if adjusting itself with difficulty, which added to the unease of it all. If the house blew up, bang would go the sale…

Friday. At the ‘appreciation’ group – the focus on the symbolism of food in art – put my phone on ‘do not disturb’. My contribution, likely to be the last, was rather loosely related to the subject – about an animal artist called Pigasso, a pig who could paint. At the end, a slightly awkward hug or two, wishing me good luck with everything.

I’d missed three calls from the sneezy solicitor, who needed my authority to exchange contracts that afternoon. ‘It’s unstoppable now,’ she added cheerfully. Told the family the big news, but too tired to take it in myself.

Since then, multi-tasking like a mad thing – on every trip down the stairs, an armful of books bound for boxes in the outhouse. Had lightened the library, but still hundreds left. Rolled up a couple of rugs and put them out on the kerb, where invisible hands swiftly removed them.

Sleepless again, went for a walk on the green. It was the hour before dawn and the world was wonderfully quiet, no one around. Then returned to the house now locked in a legal process, but still my space and shelter.

July 18th – July 24th, 2023

I was barely respectable one morning when a nice little man turned up on the doorstep with a clipboard. ‘Evans Removals’, he said, ‘to give you a quote?’ A bit cross – pre- the first coffee – I denied all knowledge of such an appointment and sent him away. But it later turned out that one had been made way back in June and I’d meant to cancel it, then forgotten all about it….

Gave the Ladies – my Garden Angels – a selection of container and house plants, including an aspidistra called Arnold, successor to an Algernon left in London a lifetime ago. A last stroke of the long dark leaves, then let him go to a new and better home.

A strange sculpture appeared in the city – a towering figure, on nationwide tour, made of a 100,000 blades either confiscated by the police or handed over in amnesty. The Knife Angel. While Tesco Express was a riot of colour and not just a supermarket but a Diversity Champion ‘standing proud with the LGBTQ+ community, the street window a rainbow of balloons.

The Traveller drove up to reclaim the rest of his stuff, like the telescope and computer from his university days, and to take charge of my old diaries and my father’s wartime cartoons and letters. Things far too precious to lose or put into storage….

Wind and cool rain here in the Midlands, England, but extreme heat around the world. A friend who lives on an island in Greece said that great swathes of smoke were drifting over the water, from wildfires outside Athens.

July 11th – July 17th, 2023

So off to the solicitor’s again, ready to propose exchange and completion dates, but she said a key part of the jigsaw was missing. The association – with which the house has an unfortunate connection – had yet to send their Home Buyer’s pack to the Other Side’s solicitor’s, despite repeated requests…

A day out with my elder son, who met me at Euston – our afternoon spent at London Zoo, where only the reptiles seemed at ease with their environment. My totem animal, the giraffe, stood stock still, its elegant neck turned away from the visitors beyond the glass, a very long tongue licking the top edge of a gate…. Still, or a broken spirit? His totem – the gorilla – was nowhere to be seen. No birds fly in Snowdon’s aviary these days, the elephants long gone to other enclosures.

Making a meal in the unshared space of my kitchen had a special savour, with no witness to my hit and miss style of cuisine… with a view of the garden and a flamingo sunset. Though I wouldn’t miss the electric range with its double oven and far too many knobs…

At one of the U3a groups, someone said, ‘see you all in September’, which for me had the sense of an ending, though another member, 92, smiled at him fondly. ‘He’s such a positive thinker!’

A new and gaping question moved front of mind. I had no contingency plan. What on earth was I going to do if the sale fell through?

June 27th – July 10th, 2023

I met his aftershave before I met him. Not sure what I expected from a Removals Manager but it wasn’t a born again type doused in a scent which lingered for days. He knew people at the cathedral – had ‘moved the Bishop, twice’ – and his quote, on the spot, was competitive. Then, on the way out, a blessing – ‘may the Good Lord be with you!’

The second RM was mercifully less fragrant and more business-like and eyed my worldlies with approval. ‘You’re travelling quite light’, he said.

A happy day out into Leicestershire. To a gallery outside Castle Donnington with plant ‘sculptures’ in the garden and near a famous racing course. In the distance, the sounds of screeching tyres around a circuit.

July began in London. Another stay in Tufnell Park, the St Francis exhibition at the National Gallery and a therapy appointment in Rotherhithe.

Back on base, a removal in real time. The two men from the Salvation Army threw the grey pouffe and sofa cushions into the van with ease, but struggled with the large sofa frame itself. ‘They got it in’, they grumbled,’ so it must be possible to get it out’… It was then ‘up a bit, down a bit’ for quite a while – ‘mind the window, Nigel!’ – till they finally manouevred it through the front door over the gravel…. where I took a photo of the undignified departure…

When I wrote up my notes from the therapy session, realised how well-timed it had been, because talking through my fear of finality was helping me see the bigger picture. My actions could free other people to move on with their own lives – and a point of no return had to be fixed, to form a launching pad into the future….

June 19th – June 26th, 2023

24 hours in London again, to leave more bits and bobs in the spare room – a lap-tray, a clock, clothes-hangers – and to firm up a few moving dates with Rachel.

Signed the Contract form and Transfer of Title deed – documents sneezed over at regular intervals by the apologetic solicitor, whose hay-fever injections ‘weren’t working.’..

A coach into the Black Country, once a centre of England’s Industrial Revolution. Then a 4-hour ‘canal and cavern cruise’ through a miles-long underground tunnel cut centuries ago to access the coal and limestone mines, now abandoned. The hard hats we had to wear offered only partial protection from regular drips of water that seeped through the roof of hand-made brick or rock rich in fossils not far above our heads. The skipper told us that the average life expectancy of a miner in the Midlands was 27. It was a very slow boat trip, sometimes in near total darkness – until at last a real and welcome light at the end of the tunnel…

Learnt a new word: gongoozler – an idle observer of canal boats and life on inland waterways.

The next Notes will appear on 9th -10th July.

June 12th – June 18th, 2023

The Book Club. The Gift of a Radio, a positive take on an eccentric childhood, stirred up stories of our own early lives, some about abusive or absent fathers… but the wine, coffee and homemade cake kept things relaxed.

Back to the windowless room with neutral walls, where the solicitor talked of ‘proposed completion dates’, which later led to several more nights of broken sleep… What if I made a Terrible Mistake? Or my friend changed her mind about the spare room or fell under a bus?

In the front room, three items of furniture ready for collection – but the men with a van refused to take them away. The chair had no fire label and there wasn’t enough space in the hospice shop for the sofa with matching pouffe…The low-set chair had always been popular with visitors short of leg, but it had to go. So I covered it with a clear plastic bag and lugged it over the gravel on to the kerb, where a young lad soon parked his bike, sat on the seat and studied his mobile. ‘It’s very comfy!’ he said and only lived up the road.

When I got back from Tesco, the boy, the bike and the chair were gone. Where the unlabelled, armless item had sat for 10 years, a strange empty space and the faintest of lines left on the floor.

June 6th – June 11th 2023

Brunch at Barton Marina with a friend, as before, then a feel-good movie about a Book Club, four very rich and glamorous old ladies gallivanting in glorious Italian scenery….

Reconnected to the lighter side of life – and to the internet – a kind of lull, soon broken by a call I knew was coming but not quite so soon… when my estate agent said the buyers were ‘pushing’ for signs of ‘progress’… An urgent chat to the Traveller, who agreed that selling up first had ‘a lot of positives.’

So down to Euston again, then a cab to Tufnell Park in Islington – Corbyn country and near the site of Holloway Prison – to my friend’s spare room, where I wiped down the shelves, ready to receive a ‘capsule’ wardrobe, key files and boxes of writing….and swept the garage free of decades of dust.

But time too for lunch out with Rachel and her cousin in John Lewis, Oxford Street and sitting in the garden, a fox or two also in residence…

Back on the Midlands base, felt something of the size of the step now taken and shed a tear…..then did a bit more packing up. The travel section of the library , including several phrase books- from Polish to Hebrew – went into a jumbo shopping bag. One of the ‘learning a foreign language’ ones, printed in 1969, went into the wheelie bin. Hugo’s ‘simplified system’ – German in Three Months – which was never going to happen.

May 30th -June 5th, 2023

A blank screen on the desktop. Windows Network Diagnostics told me what I already knew, that I had ‘connectivity issues’. The call to Virgin Media in Outer Mongolia was close to torture. The handler, who had a heavy accent, didn’t like my password or my answers to the security questions… In the end- fast losing the will to live – I played the ‘vulnerable customer’ age card…

Swigged a bit more iron supplement to make sure the levels in my blood were acceptable, then went along to the Mormon Church, the usual white collection vans parked outside. As the donors lay on tilted couches in the hall, the background music featured the voice of the late great Tina Turner.

By priority appointment, the Virgin technician arrived. A cheerful, polite young woman, she agreed that ‘customer services’ were ‘shocking’ and installed a brand new hub. ‘Things will get a lot faster now’ she said. She wasn’t wrong.

May 23rd – May 29th, 2023

The solicitor was reassuring. The title and contract papers were put in my hands, but ‘no need to sign anything straightaway.’

A follow-up appointment at Specsavers for another lesson on how to use the aids. Was I all right going up the stairs? Said I liked stairs! In a slightly sinister sound-proof room, the audiologist said I was going on a ‘journey’ and would hear things I hadn’t heard for a long time…. When I looked less than excited, he moved on to ‘bluetooth connectivity’…

My favourite groups – art and poetry – and a new Post taking shape, so a mellower mood, until I learnt why a woman I’d done the odd errand for hadn’t replied to recent calls. Only days after my last visit in March she’d died alone in hospital. She wasn’t really a friend, more someone who’d crossed my path, but it was sad and another departure from the scene.

The diversion only a good book can provide; started the 7th novel about a murder detective called Ryan, a series set in Northumberland.

Then for reasons best known to itself, WordPress wouldn’t let me update these Notes. After a lot of messing about without success – losing and re-typing the entry – the site suddenly relented…

May 15th – May 22nd, 2023

The world got louder, because I spent a small fortune on high-tech hearing aids – in a nice bronze colour – which connect to my phone and god knows what else, though I’ve no idea how…

Stuffed the crystal glasses with tissue, then – to protect the edges – inserted them into old popsocks, kept for the purpose, then put them into a box marked ‘fragile’. Then it was the turn of the decorative plates, one bought in Brighton in 1964.

Asked a few trusted people their thoughts about the selling-up-first possibility. All in favour, but my son Traveller, on whom so much depends, has reservations about the timing….

Processed my emails in the morning as usual, when reasonably bright. One a depressing invitation from the Volunteer Co-ordinator to attend a Hospitality and Inclusion session… another from the solicitor, with 3 scarily indigestible attachments – Transfer Deed, Title Plan, a Contract – that I decided not to print off, instead requesting paper copies for collection. Then forwarded it all to my elder son, my rock in Portsmouth.

Put out the garden chairs and re-opened the Patio Cafe. The birdsong was a bit insistent and a neighbour’s lawnmower a right racket – but it was good to chat with a friend in actual sunshine, under a sky properly blue.

May 9th – May 14th,2023

‘In need of some redecoration’ was the estate agent’s little joke. The mid-Victorian cottage was in a leafy green area of Enfield, but had several strange and peeling patches on the walls and ceilings. It was the stairs that really did for it – narrow, dark and very steep, which would make a descent in the night to the only loo on the ground floor downright dangerous…

A steady drip from the base of the new unit on the bathroom wall, unused for days – so Dave the Electrics came back, stood in the bath again, adjusted a screw or two and fitted a different head attachment – called Triton – with 5 spray patterns, from jet to drench, which improved the Shower Experience no end.

Two medical moments, the first at the Eye Clinic at the hospital a long bus ride away, where I was put on a list for cataract removal. The woman sitting near me in the waiting area smiled at her companion, but her clutch on the white stick beside her was very tight. At a local pharmacy, got my spring booster Covid vaccine and a sore, angry-looking left arm.

Cleared a key hurdle. Said a little prayer – so much at stake – than picked up the phone to London and Country. The call lasted over an hour, but they assigned me a new ‘dedicated mortgage adviser’ within minutes, who had a lilting Welsh accent and a long list of questions. When I passed the ‘affordability criteria’, he then issued a ‘Decision in Principle’, which would help me make an Offer. My age was a factor, Huw admitted, but then again, ‘some lenders preferred pensioners, because their income was so secure and stable….’

May 2nd – May 8th, 2023

Hung some union jack bunting above the porch, one of only two houses in the road to do so. Sadly, no street parties here.

The electrician stood in the bath and installed the new shower unit, which took hours because ‘the piping had to be adjusted.’ Using it for the first time was disappointing – a bit musical, fewer knobs to play with and a less than powerful flow….

The local parish and district elections. The officers at the polling station were pleased to see me – the only voter around – but examined my bus pass ID more closely than seemed called-for. You could put up to 6 crosses on the ballot papers, but used the pencil on the string only once – for the Independent candidate, fed up with all the rest.

Arranged the viewing of another cottage in Enfield; it was over time to get a certain duck more firmly in a row – so sent the ‘dedicated adviser’ I’d corresponded with for over a year a carefully worded email to update him on the situation and request a ‘ mortgage in principle’ but an automatic reply told me he no longer worked for London and Country Mortgages. The loan would be a modest one, but shrank from the crucial call I’d have to make when offices re-opened after the Bank Holiday…. explaining the background and putting the case again…

Watched the Coronation on TV, moved by the music, the battered old chair the King sat on for his Anointing and the strain on the new Queen’s face…and later by the red, white and blue trails of smoke in the sky above all the rained on people in front of the Palace.

As the long weekend drew to a close, hosted the Book Club. Six monarchists and a disgruntled Republican, who enjoyed (Tesco’s) coronation cupcakes all the same….

April 24th – May 1st, 2023

The neighbour one door down, who sold his house much more quickly but at a lower figure, said they were leaving in a few days’ time and wished me all the best.

Requested a viewing of a ‘charming character cottage’ in Enfield, but when the appointment wasn’t confirmed, rang the agents who told me that the vendors had already received offers on the property – only a day or so after it went on the market….

Hosted my art appreciation group in the front room, probably for the last time. Took down 3 framed prints from the walls and cocooned them in bubble wrap. 11 more to go…

A real treat. A drive in style – in a friend’s champagne-coloured Porsche – to Barton Marina and The Red Carpet cinema, to see an ‘exhibition on screen’, about my forever favourite painter – Vermeer. The Master of Light, whose pictures bear no trace of a brush….

A huge removals van parked in the street – a size more suited, I’d have thought, to shifting the furnishings of a stately pile than the contents of your average semi. The couple at No.28 meant nothing to me – but when the van and the car finally pulled away, a sudden sense of desolation – as if I’d been left behind….

An hour or two later – an almost indecent interval – another smaller van drew up and 2 men in black tee-shirts started to unload a different set of stuff… a sofa, then two matching armchairs, a cot, then a tropical plant in a tub…. watched a bit anxiously by a family about to move into the only just-vacated house – and begin a new phase of life.

April 17th – April 23rd, 2023

‘How old is it?’ A quiet shift, the very few visitors – from Mexico, China and Wolverhampton – agog at the Gothic glory of the building, all asking the same question, one I’ve answered again and again over 10 years as a volunteer. ‘Well, this is an ancient site of worship, but the first cathedral was consecrated in 700 AD…. to house the bones of St Chad….’

Another 3 days away, based in the spare room – to see the therapist in Rotherhithe, South London, then meet up with the Traveller, to view a couple of properties from the outside – in Palmer’s Green and Finchley Central, in North London. Rachel gave me an unwanted suitcase more than half my height – perfect for a world-tour, but actually destined to be a clothes storage facility, maybe in a lock-up somewhere. Manoeuvring it on the underground was tricky, but got several offers of help – all from young people, who stopped looking at their devices to get the monster on wheels up and down the steps. One asked, ‘ Going anywhere nice?’

Outside, winter again – but the new young blackbirds pecked at and played on the lawn. Last weekend, the Forms; this one, the Finances – the usual April review, but with a new focus. A few key pieces of paper seemed to have disappeared, but kept calm and carried on…..until my mobile started to vibrate and emit a loud screech, then another one. A transatlantic voice told me ‘no action needed to be taken’… It was only a test of the governments’s new life-threatening emergency alert system’….

April 11th – April 16th, 2023

Mid- shampoo, the warm water from the shower – a little ‘kettle’ above the bath – suddenly ran icy cold, so I had to finish washing my hair in the kitchen sink.

Printed off the forms the new solicitors had emailed me – more than 30 pages’ worth – which demanded far more documentation than I ever received from the people I bought the house from. Like safety certificates, warranties… And so many questions, from the tedious to the tricky or surreal. About ‘local planning permissions’, any ‘disputes or complaints affecting the property’,… ‘solar panels, septic tanks and Japanese knotweed’….

It was my choice at Book Club, so my turn to talk about a novel set in the early 19th century, based on the life of a poor girl called Mary Anning, a fossil hunter in Lyme Regis, Dorset. Around my neck, a favourite pendant – and visual aid: an ammonite set in silver, millions of years old, which made us all feel pleasantly young.

Slipped under the weather – and the Lemsip diet, supplemented by doses of manuka honey and echinacea, took a while to work – but a chat with Rachel, the landlady in London, did my heart some good. Not for the first time in a friendship spanning more than half a century, she offered me an option. I was still welcome to move into her spare room and use it as a base while I searched for a new one of my own…

April 4th – April 10th, 2023

It was hardly a death warrant or marriage register, but signing the Instruction Form in the solicitor’s office – with the rather posh pen provided – felt like another no-turning-back occasion.

Two separate knocks on the front door. Opened it first to a large man wearing an over-sized red rosette, as if he’d won a prize in a pig show. The Labour candidate, canvassing for the local elections. Did I agree it was time for a change? A non-committal nod seemed to make him a happy man. The second hopeful was a beaming woman in black, who also gave me a leaflet – an invitation to a bible talk about Jehovah’s ‘sacrifice for me’…..

Easter brought a little warm sun at last – and in a sudden burst of spring, the trees around began to green and new shoots on the plant on the trellis told me it had survived last year’s insect invasion. My lilac bush looked poised to bloom.

A cull of my collection of art and fashion magazines, then the crockery in one of the kitchen cupboards. Left a stack of dinner plates – always rather heavy to carry – on the pavement outside, which disappeared within the hour. The latest items in a steady stream of stuff that’s left this house over the last 18 months. The departure of small things, prefiguring larger removals to come.

March 27th – April 3rd, 2023

The surveyor, who looked a bit like Rishi Sunak, paced up and down outside the house, taking photos and talking into his phone/notebook. Once inside, he climbed up the ladder I’d thoughtfully lowered before his arrival into the loft. Then he tapped all the walls with another device – ‘checking for damp’, he said cheerfully…

A talk in the Assembly Rooms about J.L.Petit, a largely forgotten Victorian impressionist artist, then an exhausting group lunch in the noisiest restaurant in town, shouting at each other over the table.

It was perverse – but realised I was missing the Pre-Viewing Experience. That odd form of hospitality – making the house nice and welcoming for a series of strangers. The sales negotiator rang about my instructing a solicitor, which I’d yet to do.,..’the buyers want to get things moving…and was I going to leave the cooker?’ A taste of the pressure sure to mount and a flash of annoyance.They didn’t own the place yet.

In Tesco Extra, a table covered with a white cloth, with little lights arranged around a photo of the familiar face of a well-loved character I hadn’t known had died. A lumbering,child-like figure who did heavy-lifting jobs in town. He was especially fond of pushing his neighbours’ wheelie bins – including mine – onto the kerb or back up a path once they’d been emptied… I was quite capable of doing this myself, but let him get on with it, as did everyone else. In the Books of Remembrance on the table, hundreds of messages to a man called Chris who would never read them – but I added a few anyway, in farewell to a human part of the local landscape I never thought I’d miss, till it vanished.

March 14th – March 26th, 2023

An unlamented loss. Somewhere in Waitrose or in the cab that took me and my shopping back to base, an ugly little elastoplast-pink object disappeared for ever. One of my NHS hearing aids.

The Ides of March. I was about to change estate agents, when the current one phoned me, sounding rather over-excited. He had ‘great news!’ Mr and Mrs L – cash buyers – had made an offer on the house, just about high enough to accept. Wondered if this was their best price, but decided not to push my luck… So the next day, I did a Big Thing – and accepted the offer.

Then a series of nuits blanches – not the usual broken sleep, but ‘white nights’ with barely any at all, the World Service for company. Spanish cricket, torture in Iraq, someone saying squirrel was a super-food…The Move was really going to happen! A monumental To Do list was born. At the top – find somewhere to live….

The Spring Equinox – and my birthday, my ex-husband’s the day before – so a joint celebration dinner with the family in London, at a restaurant in Camden Town. Greek food, washed down with retsina, the scent of pine resin reminding me of adventures in Athens, Delphi and the islands a life-time ago….

The next day, the Traveller and I went into an estate agent’s in Enfield, to enquire about a cottage we’d both noticed online – to be told no viewing was possible, because the tenants were at war with the vendor, their landlord. We thought we’d have a look at the property anyway, from the outside – so a walk along the New River, daffodils everywhere – my favourite flower – but the cottage was opposite a pub, which wouldn’t do…

Back in Lichfield, I turned the timer on the boiler to the right, then changed all the clocks and a couple of watches. The mobile altered itself in the night, when British Summertime began.

March 7th – March 13th, 2023

Dug out an ancient tin of Kiwi and gave my best black boots a proper polish – part of paying my respects to the elegant deceased. Then by train, tube and taxi to attend her funeral.

Leatherhead, Surrey. The service was short – with snatches of opera and a coffin made of wicker, topped with roses – followed by a reception at a golf club. A depressing conversation with another mourner, ‘her third funeral this year’..but also warm words with the widower, the only familiar face, who had lost his wife of 53 years.

Overnight in Tufnell Park, then the trip back north until the train ‘developed a fault’ and decanted us at Milton Keynes. A long wait at the station in a room not unlike the Waiting Room at the crematorium in Surrey.

At the weekend, a mild panic attack. Looking out of the window, the outlines of the cathedral in the distance were more indistinct than before, suggesting a change in my eyesight. A call to the Traveller calmed me down a bit. Not exactly an emergency and the hospital clinic would be closed anyway, so waited till the next working day to try to make an appointment.

Three viewings – more strangers on the stairs – a Kate, a Tom and a John and a Mr and Mrs Lewis. The house was too small for the others , but Mr and Mrs L had a lot of questions. Were there any restrictions on building a conservatory? No, then a trickier one: they hadn’t noticed a utility cupboard, which was understandable, because there isn’t one. I hang the ironing board on a hook and the vacuum cleaner lives in the airing cupboard, to keep the boiler company.

The next Notes will appear on the 26th or 27th March.

February 28th – March 6th, 2023

Into the estate agents that sold the house two doors down, where a manager with a rather shiny scalp and a Dickensian pile of papers on his desk had a lot to say about the exciting advantages of switching to a new company….

Won a series of ‘surprise’ prizes – a Ninja air fryer, a water filter, a supply of ‘rejuvenate’ male hormones – emails that had somehow bypassed ‘junk’…..

St Albans, Hertfordshire – to meet up with two old school friends, one of a woman of shining faith, who’s decided to ‘let cancer take its course’. Memories over lunch of shared adventures in the ’60s, including an accident on the border of Greece and Turkey, a car crash we were lucky to survive.

The manager came to the house; he’d studied the marketing of the property on Rightmove – an approach he found ‘airy-fairy’…’with the wrong lead picture’. Theirs, he said, was a ‘tried and tested process, nothing flowery…’ An hour after he left, a cheerful phone call from my current agent. Three new viewings in the pipe-line…

February 21st – February 27th, 2023

Headed south for the day – to see the therapist and catch the Cezanne at Tate Modern – but found it seething with schoolchildren – I’d forgotten it was half-term – and the queue for the exhibition was very long. To my surprise, members weren’t allowed in first, so gave up and walked to Waterloo Bridge instead, the river a sulky shade of brown.

Other excursions were more successful. I eat a lot of leafy greens, on the eye consultant’s advice – and there was apparently, a ‘national shortage of salad!’ so off to Tesco, expecting banks of empty shelves – but no, only a few – so bought enough spinach, watercress and rocket to last the week.

Six of us went to Birmingham, to the Midlands Arts Centre and Grayson Perry’s Art Club show. The centrepiece: a miniature model of Sandringham, knitted in lockdown. Woolly chimneys, hairy hedges and Prince Philip in stitches….

Prepared a list of questions, made a stiff coffee and rang the estate agent – but the connection was terrible, with an echo on the line, making an awkward chat a lot harder. When I persisted -what were they actually doing to push the sale? he said it was the ‘featured property’ on the site and something about mailshots, then – not unperceptively – ‘you’re breaking up again’….

February 13th – February 20th, 2023

Things felt very February – bleak, grey and empty – so tried to keep busy. Did some darning, glad I could still see well enough to thread a needle, albeit at the fifth attempt. Then into the study, to shake the desktop keyboard from side to side and turn it upside down – releasing a flurry of crumbs of an indeterminate nature…then, using a fiddly little attachment, to vacuum the narrow spaces between the keys. A gentle anti-bacterial wipe of the surfaces and the ‘refresh’ was complete.

Put the fourth draft of a condolence letter into a pale lilac envelope, then posted it to my friend in Surrey, now a widower.

A mid-week viewing, so cancelled a trip to Hertfordshire – best to be around, to make the place nice before the conducted tour of the property, then check all was in order after it. Two days later, the appointment was cancelled. ‘The locality too far from family!’ Yet more messages arrived from other agencies, who had ‘recently sold other properties near me…’ Something had to be done.

So I rang up my own agent, who was on annual leave; an email sent instead, expressing my disquiet. Then began some serious research on the pros and cons of ‘double agents’ – using two at the same time – or switching from one to another. Re-read the contract signed with Agent 1 last summer – a minefield of small print. It was all rather frightening – even more February, if with an edge – so binge-watched The Crown on Netflix and had three glasses of wine instead of two…

A friend I’d had coffee with only days before – and kissed goodbye – rang up rather late in the evening, but it was still a nice surprise – until he told me he’d tested positive and hoped I was all right. I wasn’t, but Covid had nothing to do with it.

February 7th – February 12th, 2023

Two home visits, one pre-arranged. Before we settled to coffee, cake and hours of conversation, I showed my friend the view of next door’s rubbish dump. ‘I want you to feel my pain!’ She did, so I opened a bottle of my best Sauvignon Blush…

A day or so later, the man who lives two doors down passed the house so said I wanted a word and practically pulled him through the front door and up the stairs to the back bedroom, ignoring his faint look of alarm…. When he looked out at the Eyesore, he was suitably shocked and saw what I was ‘up against.’

Safely back in the hallway, he started to chat a bit. They were moving; their house had sold quite recently for close to their asking price (and mine) – which was encouraging and Really Useful Information. It was a relief, added Stan, because the skip in their neighbour’s front garden had been there for months, overflowing with rubbish – and attracting the most unwelcome of visitors to the area: rats.

A friend’s email told me that his wife was now in a hospice in Surrey and that it ‘couldn’t be long now.’ A delightful couple the late professor and I met on a cruise; not the closest of links, but one that’s held for 13 years between the four of us, then three…. So much and so little to be said and nothing to be done, except light a candle for my comfort – and for her safe passage.

January 31st – February 6th, 2023

A review at the dental clinic two train rides away, where the main man – who looks a bit like President Zelensky – told me a manual brush would be better for my poor teeth, after years of using an electric one…. In the waiting room, a pile of aspirational magazines: Country Life.

Back behind the hedge, to observe the first viewers of February – a woman carrying an awkward-looking, animated bundle, either a dog or a child, who wanted to migrate from Milton Keynes…Learnt later she was keen, but also ‘viewing other properties’.

The boiler continued to behave beautifully, which made me suspicious, so thought I’d better check the bars and the dials, but the pressure was fine, nice and steady. Kept the place neat and tidy, tidy and neat, in the words of Mr Messy, one of my lads’ favourite books as children. But only narrowly averted a fire in the kitchen, remembering just in time that I’d shoved a wooden salad bowl on to one of the oven shelves, pre-viewing.

A fairly sociable week, a solitary weekend – the usual pattern, though another family came to see the property. A Mum, Dad and small daughter, who rushed into the house the moment the agent opened the door – but the feedback was familiar. They loved the location, but needed ‘more space’ and ‘wouldn’t be proceeding’…

January 23rd – January 30th, 2023

It was still dark when I left the house to head down the long straight road to the station, a shepherd’s warning shade of red just beginning to colour the sky. Then another train from St Pancras International to St Albans, Hertfordshire, for a Lunch at a country hotel.

10 of us around a round table, one our guest of honour. Stories about our shared past as pupils at a convent school called Loreto, when the nuns really looked like nuns. Old photos, bitter-sweet – showing us ranked according to height – me in the back row – in straw boaters and blazers striped like deckchairs. Messages from absent friends in America, Canada, France and elsewhere in England. Everyone edging 80 now – gaps in the photos and holes in the memory – but a true celebration of a graceful bond.

Overnight at the Tavistock near Euston, at peace in a small room on the 8th floor, facing the Square and a tree far taller than the hotel.

The viewings dried up; no second offer from the Smileys, though Mr M was still in touch. The squirrel dug several more holes in the once-photogenic lawn. Wheeled a bin out, then wheeled it back. Poured some Block-Buster down the kitchen sink. Went to a class, a cafe, a shop….

On the radio, ‘faulty guidance on cladding’ – a minister confessing that the government shared some of the blame for Grenfell. It was time to remove the saucer-like shape from its packaging, get on a ladder again – and screw the new smoke alarm into its base on the ceiling.

January 17th – January 22nd, 2023

The last Christmas card arrived, addressed to someone called Sheila.

The bottom of the garden vanished in freezing fog and I couldn’t get into the Garden Room (once the humble outhouse). The key turned in the lock, but the handle wouldn’t budge. Draped a warm cloth over it then applied steam from the kettle, but only the sun shining on the door the next day loosened the handle and let me inside…

Hibernated. Drew all the curtains across to keep the heat in, but still had to wear finger-less gloves to work on the new post. An unexpected visitor brightened one afternoon, bearing next month’s Book Club choice, about birds and bright skies in the spring of Lockdown.

A disappointment. The Smileys made an offer, but at the same low level rejected only weeks ago, so made a counter-offer, as before. The agent, who agreed their figure was unacceptable, said they were now ‘considering their position’, which sounded dismally political.

A brief visit to Tesco, where another customer picked up a copy of Spare and put it down again with an audible snort. Michelle Obama’s latest was soon back on the shelf too, until a paperback finally made it into her trolley on top of the tins of baked beans – a novel by Danielle Steele. In the ‘seasonal’ aisle – Easter eggs, already.

January 10th – January 16th, 2023

The agent and a youngish smiley couple arrived early – so a brief hello on the porch then made self scarce as usual. Viewing no.3 of the new year. Returned to find the back door left unlocked…. so rang the boss in righteous indignation. It must never happen again! He would ‘make sure it wouldn’t’. Feedback questions from the Smileys: how old were the window frames and the boiler?

Packed the little black case and took it on the train south for a weekend stay with Rachel, the landlady friend in North London. From there into Oxfordshire, through villages with names like Britwell Salome and narrow flooded lanes to visit a friend of hers and have lunch in an ancient inn set deep in the countryside, a red kite swooping over the fields and out of sight. A late drive back to the city, where an empty, high-rise shroud of a building rose against the night sky, an illuminated heart on the facade. Grenfell.

Sunday in Islington, wandering the markets and antique shops, then a cinema in a mall called Angel Central and a film set in the 1950s called Living. Bill Nighy perfect as a civil servant with the stiffest of upper lips who describes his impending death as ‘a bit of a bore’…

While I was away, Viewings 4 and 5 – the latter being a second viewing by the Smileys, parents in tow this time – but when I got back, only one question really on my mind – was the back door locked? It was, but a new little problem lay in wait on the landing – a loud intermittent squeak. Emitted by the smoke alarm, literally on the blink…

January 4th – January 9th, 2023

Christmas came late to the letterbox, empty for so long. On the 4th, found a small pile of cards inside.

A new couple came to view the house. Watched their arrival, not from my usual observation post behind the bushes – too bare now for adequate camouflage, but from behind a handy hedge. The feedback email said that they liked the property, but it was too far from the train station…

A pleasant pause. Lunch out with friends, then an afternoon CD concert of early music from the time of the crusades and 14th century Florence.

Then, at very short notice, another request came through – from a cash buyer, ‘looking to invest’. The agent opened the front door to a blonde woman, very smartly dressed, whose visit lasted over half an hour. This was all rather promising, so the news the next day was a bitter blow. She loved the house, but the view from the second bedroom led to ‘fears for issues arising in the future’, which was understandable. So next door’s garden -the eyesore of a pool set in a rubbish dump, suggesting anti-social attitudes – cost me an offer, quite probably a sale…

Things I could do nothing about. So when someone who doesn’t know me that well said to ‘stay positive’ and had I ever thought of buying a barge or getting a caravan… I managed a polite murmur in response, but it was hard not to regret I’d ever left London in the first place.

December 20th, 2022 – January 3rd, 2023

The Traveller dodged the rail strikes to join me for Christmas. The cathedral service, then the King’s Speech. When our roasties came out of the oven, they were decorated with little black flakes, which turned out to be bits of charred brown wrapping paper, which I’d used instead of the intended sheet of baking parchment. But dusted off, the potatoes tasted wonderful…

The usual moment of magic or of deep peace was missing this year, but the warmth of shared laughter was more than enough.

On the last day of December, the Portsmouth 3 arrived – my elder son, his partner and Pablo, a small dog with a big personality, who immediately renewed his acquaintance with my snake-like draught-excluder. Something to bark at, toss about, then finally treat as a pillow… When not out walking the dog, we sat about and ate a lot and watched old movies.

Found blood dripping from one of the fridge shelves, which made me think of serial killers with strange eating habits. The visitors, committed carnivores, had brought with them a chunk of meat, which was leaking out of a plastic bag….

Told Pablo all about my hopes and fears for the future, impossible to fully express to any of the family. He seemed to listen, then tilted his head and wagged the pom-pom tail, before padding off to chase the squirrel and pigeons in the garden.

We downed some Prosecco, but all slept through the old year dying into the new. When they left, on the second day of another January, the car wheels left very deep grooves in the gravel, exposing soil I’d never seen before.

Then the agency got in touch, to ask when the house was available again, because they’d got 3 new viewings lined up…

December 13th – December 19th, 2022

A few festive events, like the Book Club party, where we pulled crackers and played guessing games, involving a lot of rules and bits or paper and pantomime – or just enjoyed each other’s company. Secret Santa gave me something I actually liked : a bottle of Bailey’s, my only weakness. A group lunch later in the week took me to a local village set in frosted parkland and an old pub with traditional nooks and crannies, a real log fire and pictures of the past on the wall, swagged with holly and pine, baubles and berries.

Another email from Jack, who hoped I was keeping warm. An ambiguous message from Mr M, now in India, who was not going to make a revised offer ‘at this stage’, but ‘completely understood’ my position and ‘would keep in touch.’

Sent several greetings by email and made a list of people to phone – far from sure if the cards I’d posted would arrive before Easter, if ever. The rail strike set for Christmas Eve was a blow, but the Traveller said he’d alter his work schedule and make it to the Midlands somehow…

The next Notes will appear on January 3rd or 4th. Thank you for following my adventures and non-events. My love and every best wish to you for Christmas and the coming New Year. Tessa.

December 6th – December 12th, 2022

An unusual brightness one night in the empty bedroom. From a brilliant moon in a crystal clear sky, casting sharp tree shadows on the lawn.

The wheelie bin lids frozen shut. Skated across the patio to feed my blackbirds and shoo off the magpies and the squirrels. The heating on, but woolly tights and finger-less gloves still required. A cold shift at the cathedral; one visitor lit a whole row of candles near the new shrine, tears on his weathered face.

An email from Jack. Mr M. was ‘still interested’ but family and passport problems were delaying his making a new offer on the house. Sent him my best wishes.

Wrote the last of my Christmas cards, using up the old stamps – mainly scenes of deer and bulls in snowy woods and fields, with the odd Victorian robin – but the jumbo-sized box in Tesco was stuffed full of uncollected mail, right up to its roof. So when I tried to post my cards, some slipped back out of the slot, as if an invisible elf inside was handing them back…

November 29th – December 5th, 2022

An icy fog framed the garden for days, in an unofficial season northerners call the back-end of the year – neither autumn nor winter, when the light fails and there are few bright leaves left.

Turned off the News, too depressing. Nothing ever seems to get sorted out. Social care, strikes, the small boats… No revised offer from Mr M, but an email arrived informing me of a friend in her 50s’ terminal illness, which was too hard to take in, so I cleaned out another cupboard, tidied another file, re-charged my toothbrush, changed a bulb, made another list – and finally tried to pray to whatever unseen forces are out there with the power to make something awful go away and wished I was a Believer.

A train ride to the Barber in Birmingham – to see a show of work by Breughel the Younger: pictures of potato-faced peasants doing dodgy things, like mooning in the street, to illustrate well-known Netherlandish proverbs. The city centre was busy – no bull in the Bullring – but a grim grey mist there too, shrouding all the buildings in the distance.

Re-googled the ‘basic rules’ of football. The offside one remained incomprehensible, but picked the right match to watch: England v. Senegal, in a tent in the desert. A nice win, no barbaric penalties. The other team’s supporters’ incessant drumming all during the game dispelled any sympathy for them. My son was surprised but pleased by my interest and hoped I’d watch the next key match, as if it would make our winning the World Cup somehow more likely….

November 22nd – November 28th, 2022

Advice came from several directions, the best also the simplest. ‘Trust your gut, Mum!’ So I made a counter-offer higher than the one suggested by Jack the sales negotiator, who ‘completely understood’ my position but warned me that house prices were heading downwards…. My own viewing of a property in Enfield was scuppered by the rail strike.

Art Appreciation. Our subject: portraits of the late Queen, from Annigoni and Warhohl to the evolving low-relief ‘effigies’ on the coinage of the realm. The discussion drifted to Diana and opinions differed – I’ve always rather liked Camilla – but we were all in agreement about Meghan and poor Harry.

An innocent lunch out at a posh, rather pretentious restaurant, with a friend whose wife may have to go into a home. I dressed up a bit, but knew I was mainly there to listen – to be a conversational diversion, a partner in putting the world to rights. It was not an unfamiliar or unpleasant part to play. My request for a little extra something for the veg was met with slight disdain – ‘we don’t do mayonnaise’ – as if I’d really lowered the tone of the place and asked for a squeezy bottle of ketchup….

Jack’s new email was quite upbeat. He thought Mr M would get back to him with a revised offer, but added that although the gentleman was still interested, he was also about to go away for a month – to India…

November 15th – November 21st, 2022

A new viewing. A brief skulking in the bushes as before – to see an Asian gentleman arrive early at the house and start to pace the drive as if measuring it in his head. Learnt later he was ‘impressed’, but would have to consult his wife, who was ‘currently abroad’.

A day-trip to London. Before my therapy appointment, popped into the Canada Water library, where the staff offered me an energy-saving leaflet and a free coffee or bowl of soup, which seemed surprisingly nice of them till I realised I’d stumbled into a ‘warm space’ community event.

The email from the agency came as a slight shock. The pacing man had made an offer on the property – before the absent spouse had even seen it. Too low to accept – but Jack, the ‘sales negotiator’, said I might want to ‘make a counter offer’. So calls made to my advisors in Enfield and Portsmouth….

Burton upon Trent, Queen’s Hospital. Where lots of different sorts of light were shone into my dilated eyes and I sniffed a little lavender oil in the waiting room to try to keep calm – until the consultant told me there was ‘no change’ in either condition of cataract or AMD. Then – parentally – ‘Keep eating the leafy greens!’ On the long trip back, my vision still a bit blurred, rain lashed the A38, misting the windows of the bus.

November 8th – November 14th, 2022

Dressed in sober style, as if for a funeral, which in a way it was. The Cathedral was cold but full – for an extraordinary, rather Popish service, ‘for the reception of a relic of St Chad,’ kindly translated from Birmingham. Much processing about with crosses held high, a heavy scent of incense hanging in the air. Then the fragment of leg bone which may – or may not – have been his, was placed in the new shrine – behind bars – and many important heads bowed before it.

The plumber arrived, but sent him away again – advised by the Baxi people to use their own gas engineers. The next day, a man in a black uniform took a large black bag up the stairs and proceeded to operate on the poor boiler, replacing an air vent which had a little leak…

A text arrived, warning me to ‘eat and drink plenty’ before the appointment, so had a much bigger breakfast than usual. I’d already stuffed myself with spinach for days beforehand, to make sure I passed the iron levels test at the blood donation centre in Sutton town hall. Nothing had ever been said before about the body’s replenishing lost cells burning up hundreds of calories….

A long weekend with the Portsmouth 3. A birthday celebration meal at Loch Fyne, our favourite ‘occasion’ restaurant: a feast of fish. Another long walk on another pebbled beach. An unwanted blessing from above – a flock of geese, maybe gulls, flew overhead, one dropping a whoopsie on my jacket. My son’s partner said this was meant to be good luck, which seemed unlikely.

Pablo scampered at the water’s edge, daring the waves. Islands and old forts hazy in the distance and on the horizon, a huge ferry slowly coming in from France.

October 31st – November 7th, 2022

Llandudno. I’d remembered how big the Welsh gulls were and how lovely the curves of the Orme and the bay, but forgotten how far the Victorian pier stretched into the Irish Sea – and how the stones on the shelved beach were more like small ankle-twisting boulders, making it hard to reach the water’s edge. Needed an arm to hang on to, especially as the winds grew wild, rocking the palm trees on the promenade.

When I got back, the boiler was flashing indignant fault lights. The heating had only been off for three days but the pressure had fallen far too low. Topped it up, uneasily, then phoned the plumber the next morning, who said it was probably the ‘expansion vessel’ and he couldn’t come till Tuesday….

Also rang the agent about the lack of progress. ‘We’ll have to get creative,’ I said. He agreed, ‘100 percent’ – one of his favourite expressions. The selection of photos on Rightmove would be ‘refreshed’.

Health highlight of the week: my ears were vacuumed at a high street ‘hearing centre’, where a woman called Wendy removed the build-up of wax by micro-suction. Which revved up the tinnitus…

Googled ‘natural repellents’ then sprinkled cayenne pepper in and around the holes dug in the lawn by a squirrel and its mate. Hopefully they’ll sneeze and go away….

The leaves fell like golden rain; the trees opposite the house almost bare now. When night fell, a few fireworks burst and died in the sky.

October 24th – October 30th, 2022

The energy supplier told me that – with a bit of help from the government – my bill had gone right down, but now in full rationing mode, so the kettle’s still turned off before it’s boiled, which makes for nicer coffee anyway. Then another message – Bulb had been bought by Octopus, but I didn’t have to do anything.

The dental clinic, where something part of me since childhood was surgically removed: a dodgy upper left molar. The rail replacement bus on the way back was delayed, which meant a 2 hour wait at Stafford station, me and the new hole in my head.

The little flurry of publicity for the post about pink produced some unsurprising results, except for one on Twitter from a Lib Dem MP and another on Facebook from a man from Milwaukee obviously in touch with his emotions, who wanted -‘passionately’ – to be my Friend. Unfortunately, his smouldering photo looked as if it had been taken in Death Row…

Left the T’ai Chi class in a state of balanced calm, which didn’t last long, because I met an acquaintance in the street. Have you sold your house yet? My polite reply masked an awful urge to flatten her.

Time to pack the little black bag and head not for the hills, but the sea.

October 18th – October 23rd, 2022

A micro-market. Put several quality make-up items on a tray, then put the tray on a box by the school gate near the house, then settled on the ‘watching stool’ again, at a distance, and waited. Mums arrived, too busy looking at their phones to notice the sign which said Free Beauty! Was about to pack up when a Dad appeared with twin girls in tow, who gleefully swooped on the shadows, pencils, lip gloss, hairspray and pins, then put all of them into identical pink rucksacks. Just hoped there was a discerning mum at home….

No word from the agency about last week’s ‘positive viewing’. The Traveller imported the new post on to the American platform and a tweet went out about it, but his mother was despondent about the low response and wondered, not for the first time, if pensionista had a future.

Had a haircut, lost a scarf, stewed a lot of apples. Hosted my favourite group – art appreciation – who talked about sculpture and another prime minister leaving office and what a mess it all was, while demolishing most of the cupcakes from Waitrose.

October 10th – October 17th, 2022

Mr Pepper came and went. I came back from Tesco. He liked the house, but wouldn’t be making an offer.

A talk about bridges – cantilevered, trussed or suspended, then another one another day in the Guildhall, given by the author of a book about Fred Karno and his influence on comedy and people like Charlie Chaplin and the Crazy Gang.

Fiddled with two ugly little objects, pink with tubes in and knobs on, like foreign bodies in my ears – the hearing aids fitted in 2020, when isolation in lockdown made using them pointless. An awkward NHS appointment, when I had to confess I’d only begun playing with them seriously this year and needed to start again with the whole thing. The audiologist agreed, but there was a 9 month waiting list for ‘reassessment’ appointments…

Another call from the agency, about the following day. This time, about 10 minutes before the visit was due, I crossed the green and took up a camouflaged position, with a clear view of the house, from which to study an endangered species: prospective buyers. Settled myself on a stool I’d half-hidden in vegetation around a tree, then put up my hood and waited. The agent arrived and opened the front door, then let in a youngish couple… A child spotted me in the bushes and scampered up. ‘Are you hiding?’ ‘Yes’, I said, ‘but don’t tell anybody!’ She nodded, then disappeared, a few golden leaves on her hair – like some spirit of autumn.

The viewing lasted less than 20 minutes; when the three of them had gone, I went back in, learning later that they’d liked the house and loved the garden, but were looking at other properties and would be in touch.

October 4th – October 9th, 2022

The first post-price-change viewing fell through – ‘they’ve decided on a different area of the city altogether’. So things went dead again.

Tipped thousands of leaves, some still green, into the brown bin. A passer-by told me she’d always admired the blinds on my front windows, so we had a little chat. It took a year to sell her mum’s flat, so ‘not to worry…’

Lunch out in good company – 3 mixed-mushroom starters – then a Music Appreciation afternoon, the names of the composers more beguiling than their compositions. Nepomuk Hummel, Engelbert Humperdinck…

Committed a crime – but it wasn’t fare-dodging, m’lud, because I intended to pay – railcard at the ready – but the ticket offices were closed, the machines out of order and nobody checked on the trains, which seemed to be running themselves. So a free trip to Sutton Coldfield and back.

A nice girl from the agent’s rang, hoped I was well and would I mind if ‘someone on their mailing list’ viewed the house on Monday? Why not, I said. A minimum of preparation this time. I’d believe in this Mr Pepper when he’d come and gone.

September 27th – October 3rd, 2022

The house shot to the top of the list on Rightmove – offers now ‘in the region of’ – and a viewing came through. So began another Super-Tidy and turned on the heating after all – great excuse – an icebox hardly inviting…

Picked all the low-hanging fruit before Louis the lawn-mower pruned the apple trees and conifer hedge, a bit brutally, then re-sprayed the climber and all the scale insects still upon it. When he’d gone, apologised to the orchard and had an encouraging word with the eunonymus…

Tried to understand the mini-budget and the state of the economy. Stamp duty cut good, interest rate rises bad… Agent I rang and said the first post-reduction appointment had been cancelled – they’d ‘decided to stay put till next year.’ Next day, another call and another viewing in the pipeline, so unpaused the Tidy and dusted the telly. Alerts came through about impossible flats in Finchley…

A new friend came round, who commented on the ‘calm atmosphere’ of the house and admired the garden. Life-stories exchanged to happy effect – but an email was about to send me into another decline. An invitation to a festive do. Christmas. The relentlessness of it. Every other year would be all right and make it special again….but it returns so soon, too soon.

September 20th – September 26th, 2022

The boiler was serviced by the very tanned plumber, just back from ‘ a fortnight in France’, who tried to explain, not for the first time, the subtle relationship between the controls in the cupboard and the dial on the stairs… Cold now, but no way the heating was going on till October, so sat there – Michelin woman in the Midlands – in an extra sweater and two pairs of socks.

Another doubling-up. The seasonal booster in one arm, the flu jab in the other. The Covid arm was all right, but the other one a dead weight for days.

24 hours in town, overnight at the Tavistock. The National Gallery, for the Winslow Homer exhibition, artist of the American Civil War and its aftermath. Another afternoon in another area in Enfield with my son and advisor – the favourite so far, with a nice park, a church and a few little independent shops…

Made a stiff coffee, then picked up the phone for a slightly uncomfortable word with the estate agent. A house like mine shouldn’t be hard to sell at a good price…it was up to him to push things along… A pause, another gulp of the coffee, then I did my bit and reduced the price of the property.

September 12th – September 19th, 2022

Opened a parcel, not to find the item I was expecting but a surreal something else altogether: a ‘catheterisation procedure pack’ – an apron, saline pods, syringes, gauze swabs, all sorts. Blinked more closely at the ‘priority’ label, addressed to the right number, wrong road and someone called John. So I tried to re-deliver the parcel, but the patient didn’t answer the door, so had to leave it on the step. Two days later, it was still there.

Warnings about ‘high data usage’ then the phone told me I’d exceeded my limit , then blocked my texts, apps and emails. Later realised I’d turned off the wi-fi by mistake, so the Pixel had to eat up my allowance… A problem easy to fix, but soon shut down the phone myself for the day of the Funeral – to pause the eternal counting of steps and checking the weather – and maybe as a perverse mark of respect.

Still more letters arrived from agencies touchingly keen to take over the sale of the house. Got a bit fed up with the kind, puzzled enquiries – ‘have you sold it yet?’

Went out and came back and watched much more television than usual. The small coffin in the huge plane flying south into the evening sun, the longest queue in history, the new King’s speeches – feeling moved, but moderately so, until the service, the anthem and the silence – and the lone piper’s lament, for the father I never saw, the mother I miss and the one and only Elizabeth.

September 6th – September 11th, 2022

A chat with the Traveller, soon to take a train north and across the border – to celebrate his birthday in Pitlochry, about 50 miles from Balmoral.

Wednesday. The ‘light rain’ ‘forecast became a solid downpour and thunderstorm lasting on and off for hours. I didn’t really mind getting soaked to the skin, but as the air became electric and lightning split the sky above Aldi, it was all suddenly too close for comfort.

Thursday. When the announcement ‘of concern’ came from the castle in Scotland, the news presenters in very dark clothes, like everyone else I feared the worst, but not so soon. So when they said she’d actually died – like any other mortal – it seemed to make no sense, she couldn’t have….

My elder son rang to check I was all right – yes, still alive – and we shared a few moments of silence together.

Friday, at Lichfield Cathedral. A great bank of candles in the crossing cast a bright but soft light on a smiling portrait and a queue soon formed to sign one of the two Books of Condolence. Bouquets of flowers slowly piled up at the West Front. On morning-duty near the mediaeval doors – all open – I held a little ‘clicker’ to count the people entering to pay their respects or just to be there. A woman asked me if the cathedral was ‘dog-friendly’. Hesitated – had no idea – but then I thought of the corgis and how fond she was of the four-footed – which was how a rather large labrador became visitor no. 674…

At lunchtime, a long ringing from the towers began. From the nave, the sound so high above our heads seemed strangely muffled – but no need to ask for whom the bells tolled.

August 30th – September 5th, 2022

A few trains. Back to the dental clinic, for a bacteria-blasting laser treatment on my poor gums, then an hour or two in Stafford – with lads riding bikes willy-nilly down the desolate high street.

Wakefield, Yorkshire. For a less than scenic change of scene in another city in need of a little levelling up, to ‘collect’ another cathedral. A super-spire, but ripped out pews. Figures of angels with six wings and a candle tree to pray by. A rare meet-up with a first cousin, tall like me. The last contemporary living link with my mother, her aunt, her accent a lilting Geordie. We found the old bridge chapel together, then wandered round The Hepworth sculpture galleries, with views of the rushing river Calder – and more winged structures on the walls.

Back on base, the patio cafe opened and closed. The Ladies re-appeared, with another bottle of poison, pesticide this time – to spray the scale insects infesting the euonymus climber on the outhouse wall, maybe too late to save it…

Went to Specsavers. After last year’s bombshell, a difficult door to walk through – but they said my sight was ‘stable’. The manager was empathetic – ‘we’ll look after you!’ Triggering tears, which did not fall.

August 23rd – August 29th, 2022

Christened the new washing machine. After the bad vibrations and jet-engine noise of the old Hotpoint, this one seemed too quiet and well-behaved to actually work, but it did.

The Traveller here for a brief stay, to reclaim more of his stuff – but a lot got done, especially on the computer: interpreting an email from the mortgage people, who ‘can’t guarantee availability’, transferring and backing up photos, retrieving priceless messages once on the landline answer machine, recorded on the old mobile, then mislaid. The professor’s deep timbre, a lost friend’s cheery tones. Voices from the past.

I’d thought the only way was Enfield, but he felt there could be a few just-about-affordable pockets not too far away – in Finchley, Barnet or Burnt Oak….

We harvested hundreds of fallen apples together, then dinner at the best Thai place in town, my treat – to celebrate the 10th anniversary of his decision to become a Vegetarian.

The Ladies returned to work more magic in the garden, spraying the path, pruning here, re-potting there, dishing out advice.

An evening or two later, something suspect on the doorstep. A large bottle of what looked like a sinister substance, with warning yellow labels all over it – ‘dangerous to the environment…serious damage to eyes,’ the last thing I need. Poison! Surely not …? It turned out that the Garden Angels had left their weedkiller behind by mistake and someone must have moved it so it would be noticed. The neighbours were probably not inviting me to top myself after all……

August 15th – August 22nd, 2022

The Barber Institute of Fine Arts, the Art Deco gallery in the Birmingham University precinct, to see the Durer prints, then the Winterbourne gardens – till the heavens opened and we all got wet to various degrees. The chat about the respective water-repellent merits of umbrellas and raincoats rather more interesting than the Tory leadership contest, still boring the country concrete…

The man two doors down saw me passing. ‘How’s it going with the house?’ So he knew too. Then he invited me in, which was a surprise, with so few words exchanged over the years…. He and his wife then said they were selling up too, at the valuation stage. So I told them the Agents story and they complained about their nearest neighbours – loud music into the night, which also ‘lowered the tone of the area’ and sounded a lot worse than my theme-park people….

An ‘open meeting for anyone with an interest in dementia’ was poorly attended, more like a committee – less about the illness itself (1 in 6 over 80) than in planning a harvest service in the cathedral for sufferers and their carers, which was to involve the passing around and handling of apples and conkers….. When tea was served one of the people present smiled vaguely across the table, then suddenly handed me a rock cake. He’d been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s at only 60, which reminded me of my late brother-in-law and the professor’s early-onset wife, so I lied and left the meeting early, ‘glad I came’… Outside, the cathedral bells rang out and over the city – great, joyful peals, over and over. Someone had just got married, about to start and share a new life.

August 9th – August 14th, 2022

Birmingham. Not for the Games, but for Book Club at the farthest-flung clubber’s house – talking about Cranford and its heroines, another group of well-bred women whose tea parties took place in the 1840s.

New arrivals. Bid farewell to the grungy old washing machine, the dial forever at 30 degrees. Two men turned up to take it away and plumb in a shiny new one. Where would the poor Hotpoint go? A metal re-cycling centre, ‘could end up as a spade or a can of beans!’

Later in the week, another pair appeared to ‘uplift’ (tear out) the stained stair-and-landing carpet and dispose of that too, followed by the fitter, who arrived bearing a great roll, its replacement. He was in the house for hours and liked his tea with ‘3 sugars, but only a drop of milk’ – laying out the new carpeting on the porch, measuring and trimming it, then banging away with an awesome array of gnome-like hammers and knives…. The result was something of a shock, because the colour selected in the shop looked much darker when put down, more chocolate than ‘latte’. Wished I’d chosen ‘wheat’ instead.

ReDress: a fashion show at the cathedral, the theme the real,unethical cost of the industry – the outfits all sourced from local charity shops. The Dean made an unlikely but enthusiastic MC. ‘Here comes Alison, in a silky number from the Salvation Army…’ The models paraded, not on a catwalk but down the Nave in slow, sauntering style. Except one in a St Giles Hospice design – who propelled herself past the front row at some speed, pausing only treat us to a twirl, in a graceful manoeuvre of her wheelchair.

August 2nd – August 8th, 2022

The washing machine died. Instead of completing the cycle, it emitted a loud rattle and shuddered to a stop, the buttons flashing warning lights. The trouble-shooting part of the manual didn’t help, so the local appliance store sent someone round the same day, who wore a black uniform, befitting the sad occasion. He felt round the drum and said the bearings had gone. The poor thing had lost its bearings! It was a kaput machine. So the sodden pile it left behind was rinsed and squeezed but not spun in the sink….

London. Southwark, then the Holloway Road, where my friend and I did a joint shop at Waitrose like the flatmates we once were. Left some toiletries on her bathroom shelf, which lightened the rucksack.

Lunch at Wetherspoons, the Traveller’s choice, in another part of Enfield – an attractive, leafy area, but too far from transport links…

The train back was a trial. A woman of a certain age weaved her way unsteadily down the carriage to a seat a few rows down from me – a mercy, because she was to sing all the way to Rugby in a flat, tuneless voice. The rest of us did the British thing and pretended the performance was just part of the normal service, though one passenger put on his headphones and another escaped further up the train. We hoped she’d get out at Milton Keynes or Nuneaton and put Dolly Parton and Neil Diamond out of their misery, but no, it went on and on, mile after unmelodious mile. The occasional announcements from the driver about the right tickets, short platforms and a toilet out of order became blessed interruptions. Her faithless man had left her – Jolene, Jolene – but she’d always love him – I uh I uh I – the climax of Sweet Caroline reached at the next station, where she fell asleep and a communal sigh of relief swept through the numbed compartment of the 16.46 from Euston to Crewe.

The usual very quiet weekend, pottering about. Browsed my own library, sprayed the weeds on the patio with a solution of salt and hot water and sorted out my handbag choices for the remains of the summer. Exchanged a few friendly words with Tesco Man, on first name terms by now, then broke the no unnecessary spending rule and bought a few items from Etsy and Amazon. Some things to look forward to.

July 25th – August 1st, 2022

A shift in the cool cathedral, leaving visitors in peace or telling them about the beginning of the building or stories about the stone angel, over a thousand years old, found under the floor or the central spire slighted in the Civil War….

The regular routines: T’ai Chi, the Poetry Group, lunch or coffee in the centre. A visit to an artist friend’s studio on the rural outskirts of the city, to look at his latest edgy pictures of fields, gates and river banks – then back to his new bungalow. His old house, he said – nice but in an unattractive area – sold in 4 days, which was depressing, because last weekend’s viewing – despite the spooky vibe – came to nothing.

Leaving the house one day, saw the boy from next door attacking the hedge again, having inexplicably hacked a great hole out of it some months before. The same lad whose toys and balls I’d thrown back over the fence so often over the years, the same fence I’d had repaired three or four times with no word of thanks or support….

Didn’t want to engage in any way, but only polite to return his ‘hello’ and listen to his complaint about the trees I’d had trimmed hard back only two years ago – and the apples that had fallen into their rubbish tip of a garden! But it was what he said next that really got to me -‘ when are you moving out?’ Didn’t reply, none of next door’s business – and Rightmove a public domain, I know. ‘Ignore them, Mum’ my son said cheerfully, in far ruder language – but truly hate their knowing anything about my private affairs at all.

So a new chill in the August air. The trees nearby are still full, but the leaves already turning.

July 19th – July 24th, 2022

A Viewing cancelled, sparing me a super-tidy on the hottest day ever recorded here. Stayed inside, steaming gently like a pudding or with my feet immersed in a bowl of iced water. On the television screen, the bright red maps of a world on fire.

Next day, not a climate – but a Carpet Crisis. Awful stains on the stairs and half-landing, caused by the injudicious use of the wrong kind of wipe – to keep the area fresh underfoot, I thought. Rang a cleaning specialist in a panic and sent him photos of the damage. ‘Unfixable,’ he said. ‘A chemical burn in the wool.’ So flung self into the local floor-covering store, where a Dave calmed me down by showing me samples to stroke and choose from and telling me all about the inner lives of carpets and ‘new generation’ underlays and nylon fibres….

Met a young solicitor in a new branch festooned with balloons – to get a conveyancing quote ; Agent 1 phoned and agreed that things were moving much more slowly than expected, but the line was terrible and heard only one word in three.

Saturday afternoon, a surprise Viewing arranged. Getting back into the house not a problem and everything seemed exactly – if not quite – as I’d left it. The first stranger-visitors had come and gone, not a trace left behind.

This time, the pole that opens the hatch to the loft stood at a steep angle; he’d been up there, this one. A faint presence lingered in the empty rooms upstairs. The front room seemed to have an untouched air, till I saw a slight crease in the cushion plumped up that morning and a change where I always sit – a deeper depression in the surface of the sofa.

July 13th -July 18th, 2022

Yorkshire, in perfect weather. A group visit to the 500 acre Sculpture Park dotted with sheep and man-made structures, including some truly hideous ones by Damien Hirst – like a flayed unicorn – and a whimsical Circle of Zodiac Animal heads near the lake by Al Weiwei. More at peace with the landscape, Henry Moore’s monumental, reclining figures. An inadequate lunch at the overpriced restaurant prompted a TripAdvisor review….

A more local artist. Lay down on a paper-covered couch and a technician called Nina got to work with her microblades, drawing fine hair-like strokes in a mid-brown pigment…. A renaissance for my elderly eyebrows.

Another Viewing. When a different ‘shower-arounder’ appeared, I explained the locking and unlocking routines again, but not clearly enough – because when I got back, I couldn’t get back in the house. The side-gate was bolted, so no access there- and decided against climbing up on one of the wheelie bins to go over the fence….. A mini-panic, then after the umpteenth lift of the handle and twiddle and turn of the key, the front door finally opened. Dispatched an irate email to the agency…

Dire warnings about a ‘killer heatwave’ on its way – ‘red alert, meltdown’ – so I cancelled a dental appointment, put out a bowl of water for the birds, closed all the windows, curtains and shutters and waited. Going out was about to get dangerous again.

July 4th – July 12th, 2022

Repton, Staffordshire, once the capital of Mercia. For a visit with the Archetypes (the U3a architecture group) to St Wystan’s church and 8th century crypt, the resting place of Anglo-Saxon kings – but no skulls or bones in mouldering caskets, only an atmosphere thick not with history but with damp and oblivion.

Tufnell Park, London, for another stay with my landlady friend, where her heroic chef-lodger did a BBQ in the garden, the food rather nice -more steamed than cremated. In the company of his mother-in-law, a stone-mason, his wife and brother (a Nehru-like figure) and his new but rather large baby son, a psychoanalyst neighbour and the fox met once before, who watched the scene from a distance.

Sunday in St Albans, Hertfordshire – for an event to celebrate the centenary of Loreto College, the convent school I attended in the 1950s and 60s, having failed the 11+. Met up with a few other ‘old girls’ and recognised some of the buildings – the chapel serenely the same – but the once wooden-panelled library was horribly changed. An example of the old uniform hung on a peg ; straw boater and a striped walking-deckchair blazer the small me hated with a passion…. Hundreds of people milled in the grounds, long queues for refreshments. More free-for-all fete than garden party.

A cab from Kings Cross, to avoid taking the tube in still-rising temperatures, then glad the next day to return to the quiet house in the Midlands, which kept its cool at least during the day – but sleep more elusive than ever in the heat of the night.

June 28th – July 3rd, 2022

Enfield again, where my son and I investigated another area in a very large borough, but neither of us could see me living in the soul-less streets. Registered with two more estate agents. An Ishmail, behind a thick perspex screen and a Kane, who both showed a touching interest in the situation.

One problem solved. A handyman came to fix the wardrobe doors, which had stopped sliding more than two weeks before, putting most of my clothes out of reach. Another Andy, but perfectly named in this case. ‘They roll at the bottom, glide at the top’, he explained – adding firmly, ‘be gentle with them!’ Promised I would and off he went, leaving a happy customer to re-connect with her cardigans…

Wiped the puddles off the garden table and chairs, though more rain was due. Sprayed the inside of the toilet rolls with a pleasant scent, as if anyone else would notice – and dug out a spare set of keys for a Karen, soon to arrive in a corporate suit to conduct the first Viewing. The three viewers had dwindled to one…. Gave her a mini tour, then left to spend the next hour or two in an unlikely retreat: Tesco Extra.

When I came back and unlocked the front door, wondered where the keys I’d handed over were now. ‘They’re kept quite secure, I can assure you,’ she’d said. Maybe still in her car or her handbag, or already in an office or a storeroom somewhere, hanging neatly labelled on a hook.

June 20th – June 27th, 2022

The Solstice. Late on the longest day, the gun was fired into the ether. My house was put on the open market. Kept the phone near or about my person all the time the next day and the next – but no messages. The pleasant fantasy of people falling over themselves to get through the door of this ‘superb 1940s semi’ faded away…and a daft sense of rejection took its place – no one liked it! Maybe a ‘for sale board should have gone up outside, but didn’t fancy any casual callers. Signed up to Zoopla and Rightmove, to get alerts about possible properties down south.

Distracted self by picking up loads of little green apples from under the trees and disposing of a dead magpie found under a bush and tidying under the sink, where another corpse-like shape at the back of the cupboard turned out to be a clump of steel wool…. An acquaintance appeared at the door, who was ‘just passing’ – a very rare instance of anyone just popping in or round.

When the phone finally rang, the agency said they’d just had a few enquiries and a Block Viewing could be set up on a day to suit me. Adding that after a ‘crazy’ spring, the market was now ‘rather quiet’…..

June 14th – June 19th, 2022

When the heatwave hit, the huge tin-bath-like pool was erected again next door and my heart sank. Escaped to the Book Club, Poetry Group and T’ai Chi – meditation in motion.

The colour co-ordinated handmade soaps in the bathroom were arranged in a tasteful pyramid, the stainless steel kitchen sink polished with baby oil, the front room cushions fully plumped, the window sills wiped. So the stage was finally set for the photoshoot.

Agent 1 arrived with a tripod and moved from room to room and back again, getting his angles, measuring up and dictating a virtual tour commentary into his phone. Didn’t quite know where to put myself during this performance and ended up hanging about near the wheelie bins…

Then we had a chat about the Suzy Lamplugh case and the vetting of any prospective buyers. And finalised the (wildly ambitious) guide price. ‘It was indeed’, he agreed cheerfully, ‘a bit of a gamble!’

When the draft brochure arrived for my approval – all shiny pictures and glowing ‘particulars’ – I barely recognised the house I’d lived in for over 10 years; it was now a ‘must-view’, an absolutely irresistible address….

June 7th – June 13th, 2022

Another man, another ladder, another bucket – this time to clean the windows the old-fashioned way. A day or two later, a passing pigeon left a leaving card on the sparkling glass.

Removed all the magnets from the fridge door, one of many actions in agent-speak to ‘depersonalise the property’…. Swept then scrubbed the ground porch and front step, like a 1950s housewife. Began to wrap and hide the jewellery in the wardrobe and half the toiletries in the airing cupboard. Decluttered the noticeboard.

My elder son arrived on his own for a whistlestop stay – to do some heavy lifting and even the heroic task of cleaning the cooker, including all the knobs, which I never knew could actually come off… In the departing car, three plastic boxes of more childhood things and on the front seat a large leafy passenger – a hosta for the patio in Portsmouth.

Then a kind of lull, the house an emptier waiting space and the garden somehow a softer shade of green.

May 31st – June 6th, 2022

Got assorted ducks in a row, some of which behaved better than others. The electrician due first thing turned up at 5pm. He repaired the lighting in the loft, but managed to leave his ladder behind, which did nothing for my decor…

The next day, the EPC man came to tap the walls and floors with some sophisticated device, inspect the insulation, the boiler and all the bulbs. The result was an above-average C rating, he beamed – and solar panels would make me a B, at least…

The Traveller arrived with a large suitcase, to remove some of his old toys, clothes and books. The bank holiday began. Trooping the Colour on the telly then my favourite bits: the balcony scene and the fly past over the palace – interrupted by Darren, who’d come to collect his ladder.

That evening we joined a friend and the crowd outside the cathedral. A choir sang and the bells rang out, again and again. I’d expected a towering structure appropriate to a Jubilee like no other, but the flames in the shallow dish atop a short tripod were more BBQ than beacon. When all the people stood together and sang God Save the Queen, they clearly meant it.

The flag I’d hung outside the house flapped nicely for a while, but on the 4th day, it drooped and grew limp in the rain. The long Platinum moment had passed – the milestone no other monarch can reach.

May 24th – May 30th, 2022

Set up a viewing on a pleasant-looking property, but the appointment was cancelled. The vendor had ‘found a buyer’ – in fewer than four days. Explored another area in the target borough with my son, the scout, where trees seemed close to uprooting the pavements – but the streets were named after Victorian artists, which was oddly encouraging. Registered with another agent, face-to-face, then lunch in a pub with a mini-zoo at the back – with a pair of mottled pigs, sheep, goats and an (invisible) iguana. Funny place, Enfield.

Another out-of-town dental appointment, to be told my poor gums were ‘doing well’, but also reminded one molar ‘had no future’. Filled the absurd waste paper bag, to keep the council happy. A man came and climbed on a ladder to inspect and clean my gutters of more than a decade’s worth of debris, bits of lawn and a lot of leaves. I’d expected a high-tech hose or other apparatus but all he used was that most traditional of tools: a bucket.

A tiny, almost unnoticed death. When I did the washing and emptied the machine, something fell out of a pocket of my jeans. A very clean and wingless wasp.

May 17th – May 23rd

At the Tavistock Hotel near Euston, in town for another session in Southwark, where the therapist and I explored what ‘home’ might mean, deep down…. Back in the centre, walked the sunny, familiar streets – already summer in the city – the rest of the day quite my own, a sense of freedom in my heart.

Back on base, in a very small way, the packing up began. A precious glass vase and decanter, once on my mother’s sideboard in Berlin, were stuffed with tissue, their edges protected with the cut-off toes of old tights, then bubble-wrapped, then put into tall cardboard cartons….

Shut down the legal wrangle with the housing association – a dragon only a bottomless budget could defeat – and because I also can’t afford to be ‘in dispute with any person or public body’… Actually got a refund from the solicitor – of money remaining in my account.

The big screen – to see Downton Abbey, a New Era. One of my fellow cinema-goers dismissed it as ‘absolute tosh’, but I loved it. Pure escapism: glorious clothes and scenery, lots of predictable but happy endings – and one beautiful death.

A second key email, in which I told Agent 1 that he was indeed The One. My choice to market the house – pushy, with the keen edge necessary for the sale of this particular stately pile…. Pressing ‘send’ felt like the slow pulling of a trigger.

May 10th – May 15th, 2022

Agent 1 rang me at a rather inconvenient moment. What did I think about his Terms & Conditions? As they’d only been sent the day before, had to confess I hadn’t studied them yet…

Coffee with a well-dressed acquaintance, bumped into in the street. Hadn’t seen her for quite a while; her hair, once raven black, was now snow white – not the result of severe shock, though she did mention a new energy bill, but an overall shrinking of her budget that ruled out the hairdresser. She’d even been to a food bank for the first time. When I later opened my fridge, it seemed to look far too full….

A beauty appointment felt an indulgence too, but the therapist undid the knots in my neck and shared several really useful tips gleaned from another client of hers, who happens to be – an estate agent.

Re-visited the agent I liked in Enfield – another day trip – and the Traveller and I traipsed miles around another area he’d identified as ‘viable’. Pleasant streets – 1930s suburbia, green spaces, very few bus stops – but couldn’t imagine actually living there.

Very tired, but my sleep even more broken than usual – lying there with the ‘world’s radio service’ for company, wide awake in the long watches of the night.

May 3rd – May 9th, 2022

A display of blue and yellow ribbons in the cathedral, there for a welcomer-guide shift, to keep my hand in and give my best tweed jacket a Spring outing. Then a service for Ukraine and the lighting of many candles. Someone unseen in the quire sang a prayer in Ukrainian which rose and filled the vast space.

A daft exchange with Tesco Man, who watched me heaving potatoes etc into the kitchen and confessed he’d never done an online food order ‘in his life!’ A bit annoyed, I asked him if there was anything else he’d like to tell me……but his reaction was just to chortle his way back to the van.

Very busy bee – more trips to the charity shop – and in the house, getting the front room ready for a hosting of the Book Group, maybe for the last time – re-arranging the furniture to encourage Animated Conversation – with wine, tea and cupcakes to aid the flow. Our choice of the month was a long, relentless novel set in the Spanish Civil War, when a dictator tried and failed to take a capital city…… The terrible, depressing theme of history repeating itself.

April 26th – May 2nd, 2022

Turned on the kitchen tap, but only a trickle came out. When I tried the other taps, a few drops, then nothing. The upstairs loo began to make loud gurgling noises, as if trying to flush itself. When the supply was restored later that night – a burst mains pipe apparently – there was no familiar flow. The water came out in a series of fits and starts and had a funny colour…

A day-trip south and thousands of steps around an area pre-scouted by the Enfield Pair. Got a bit lost, then a local set me in the right direction, pointing out an alleyway that the map on my mobile didn’t seem to know about… The next day, I was pinged, but the only person I’d been in ‘close contact’ with was the son I’d met for lunch and he didn’t have It…

Re-created an inauthentic but spacious feel to the house – hiding stuff in the oven and washing machine and under the bed – then checked the patio and yard for pigeon droppings…

Estate Agent no.4 was a decent, safe-hands sort, slightly camp – the only one to appreciate the ingenious nook-and-cranny shelving in the airing cupboard and the mock leopard-skin rug. When he opened one of the wardrobe doors, he soon shut it again – a sweater about to fall on his head. He’d done his research, so the valuation was realistic enough but a tad unambitious. I said to him what I’d said to the others, that I couldn’t afford to undersell the house. ‘Well’ – an empathetic sigh – ‘the market is a bit funny at the moment’…. I was to leave it with him; he’d be in touch.

April 19th – April 25th, 2022

As if sorting out the rubbish wasn’t fiddly enough – plastic bags in the black bin, plastic bottles in the blue one, a new accessory to the wheelie family arrived: a hideous bag, for paper waste only….

Checked the patio and yard for pigeon poo – one of the last rites before the valuation visit. Estate Agent 1 (call me Andy) took off his shoes at once, though I hadn’t asked him to, revealing pin-striped socks. A chat about my plans, then a guided tour, including the loft. When he climbed down the ladder again, a cobweb clung to the socks…

Agent 2 asked about shoe removal, clearly glad to keep them on. A friendly type, he was more than happy to talk about the market, comparable properties, the role of a surveyor et al, but when we got to percentages and price points, I soon lost the plot.

A pleasant interlude or two, like a talk about Native American Art and artists with names like Kay Walking Stick and genres I’d never heard of, like porcupine quill art and healing paintings set in sand. Everything in tribal belief had a spirit, from buffalo to mountain to tepee….

Agent 3 (shoes on) was awful. Late, with no apology and when I questioned a valuation much lower than the others, he said I had to be realistic and that he’d been ‘in the business since 1987’. The patronising tone ruled him and his agency quite out. I’ve never liked the name Alan.

So a new kind of search took shape – for the right agent and the Goldilocks price for a garden with a mini orchard and a house full of natural light, both with spirits all their own.

April 4th – April 18th, 2022

Another swill of liquid iron, to make sure my blood sacrifice would be acceptable, then made my way to the Church of Latter Day Saints, a white and red NHS van waiting outside. My 43rd donation. No chance of a tea or coffee afterwards – the Mormons don’t approve of such stimulants – so had to settle for some squash and a custard cream.

A mini-break in town. The hotel room, a mile from the lift, had no desk and no hand-wash or shelving to speak of and the reading light by the bed didn’t work. No chance of a hot drink here either, because the only receptacle provided was a plastic ‘glass’. When I complained to the Duty Manager, he offered me a different room (declined) and two breakfasts – hitherto unincluded – which were accepted.

Met my cousin at the V&A museum, for an exhibition about Faberge and his forever fabulous jewelled and enameled eggs, designed for the Tsar in Imperial Russia. Also popped into Harrods, but it lost its glamour and romance a long time ago, except maybe for the food hall.

Back on base, the Ladies, who have been together for nearly 40 years, worked their usual magic. The shrubs were trimmed into shape and a bright photogenic plant appeared in the raised bed… While the garden angels banished the weeds, I emptied the outhouse so that Dean, the electrician, could inspect the heating and lighting in there…which would give the little brick building a new name and identity: the Garden Room!

A day or so later, I put on some pearls – because pearls are power – and walked into three estate agents. The first called me ‘madam’, the second called me ‘dear’ and the third was a well-brought up Bertie, electric with enthusiasm, who asked my permission to use my first name….

Had a hot cross bun and thought of going to the cathedral service, but the Easter message of hope and rebirth rang rather hollow with so much horror and war in Europe and beyond. My apple trees seemed to mean a lot more, now tipped with pink and white – in a sudden burst into blossom.

March 29th – April 3rd, 2022

One chore a day, continued – but cleaning the bathroom stretched to two, more of a Challenge than expected. Using toothpicks for the little holes in the shower head and cotton wool buds for the soap scum around the taps worked well enough, but the water-stains on the screen were stubborn. The fancy liquid from Waitrose wouldn’t shift them, but vinegar from the kitchen – eventually – did.

Light snow. Packed a rucksack,(one of 5 in the wardrobe) with the Essentials: a few toiletries, perfume, pyjamas and a change of undies – for another overnight stay in the tall house in Tufnell Park, the one with the exotic inhabitants – the heroic chef, the couple with tatoos. The oldest lodger, a bald roadie with a beard, shot me the odd wary look, perhaps because he saw me going up and down the stairs that night then up and down again for no apparent reason. My fitness app had told me there were only 500 steps to go before I reached my goal: 10,000…. Slept well in the spare room, though the bed, which folds out from the wall, has no headrest to it, so the pillows always fall off the back in the night. Had to take the tube to get to my appointment in Southwark, but at least it was warm down there in the tunnels.

Back in my own house, found it hard to get and stay warm, though the heating was on – and the vest and the socks. Not unwell, not quite right, something in-between. Three letters arrived, held together by a rubber band, addressed to the previous owner, her name recognised from over 10 years ago, who doesn’t live here any more, who could be anywhere.

March 22nd – March 28th, 2022

Hampstead, London, where I met a dear friend, another March birthday. We were both a touch too fragile for the intended Champagne Brunch, so settled for pink and pasta instead…. Some 2 or 3 hours later, I picked up my little black bag from the hotel and headed back north to my parallel universe.

Plodded on with the Preparation – the clearing and sorting stuff out. Out went a nice teddy-style coat, which I hung on the fence outside. Didn’t see who took it, but within minutes it was gone. 3 bags full for the Hospice shop, with odds and ends like a pair of plastic shoe trees I’ll never use…. Washed down all the doors downstairs; Tesco and Amazon Man stopped by.

A festival event, with another friend. Not the free love muddy field variety but an interview held at the Guildhall with a BBC presenter about his new memoir, ‘The Gift of a Radio’. An ‘eccentric’, lonely childhood, described with humour, without bitterness; the questions he wished he’d put to Barack Obama and a Serbian general-war criminal… Then a wine bar, where we exchanged stories about our own parents and siblings and school experiences and the grants that made going to university possible for girls like us.

March 14th – March 20th, 2022

On reconnaissance again to Enfield, where a Visitor sticker was put on my coat so I could attend the U3a monthly meeting in an ex-church hall. Met a Janet and Mary who said ‘there’s always a lot going on around here’, but didn’t seem too cheerful about it. An overnight stay with the Traveller son and his wife in a slightly unnervingly spotless and tidy house, which seemed to invite a few messy touches….Some shared research on Rightmove for a suitable shed in the borough.

A pause – 2 local gatherings cancelled on account of Covid, key members testing positive, somewhat to their surprise. Then back south again for a weekend special: a family meal in Camden Town to celebrate my ex-husband’s birthday and mine the next day. A lot of Greek food and wine, the brothers on best form, their father’s forensic demolition of a lamb shank a sight to behold.

The Portsmouth pair stayed in the hotel room next to mine, so we could spend the morning together and walk around a well-trodden area – below the windows of the flat once called home, Queen, Russell and Brunswick Square, Great Ormond and Lamb’s Conduit Street and Coram’s Fields. The afternoon in my other son’s company and a trip back in time at the British Museum – to the World of Stonehenge, ancient enough to put my own new number into pleasant perspective….

Mid-evening, I was alone again in the room on the 6th floor, but well and truly birthtified and nicely relaxed, when the fire alarm went off, stopped, then sounded again, much louder than before. So I grabbed my handbag, went out into the empty corridor, then careered down the escape stairs – thinking Grenfell, Ukraine – till I got to the door that said ‘push to open’ and found myself in the street. It was, Zoltan at reception told me, a false alarm. One of the cleaners had wiped a red button too energetically, activating the warning system….

The lift doors remained locked, so had to climb the main stairs back to the room left only minutes before. The coffee I’d made and abandoned was waiting, still warm.

March 8th – March 13th, 2022

Back on base in the Midlands, it was good to return to the house that’s never quite felt like home, but always a space full of natural light, and a shelter still standing.

Angie, who has experimental tendencies, suggested something new for Spring. Some untried colours had just come in…. so when I emerged from the salon, the faded slice of orange in my hair had turned a rather bright shade of pink, ‘hot raspberry,’ she called it.

Another day, my heart began to race – but this was no romantic rendevous, just an appointment at the dental clinic for another deep-clean of my afflicted gums. The hygienist explained that the shot of adrenalin in the anaesthetic did tend to ‘rev people up a bit’….

The lawn had its health and beauty treatments too. Its first mow of the year, then the men from GreenFingers arrived with rakes and machines to ‘aerate and scarify’ the grass, which looked a right mess afterwards, as if savaged by local wolves. The birds kept away from the garden for days; it had become a no-fly zone.

The next Notes will appear on March 22nd.

February 28th – March 7th, 2022

A very diverse dinner party to celebrate the landlady’s birthday – a feast prepared by her heroic new lodger, a man from Kerala but trained as a chef in Japan. Food for 2 vegans, 2 pescatarians and 5 carnivores, one with assorted ‘sensitivities’. The youngest guest wore a top with lace sleeves, which turned out not to be sleeves but designs tatooed on her arms; her Thai partner was equally patterned. The oldest, whose hearing aids didn’t work, found herself next to an American academic who never spoke above a whisper. Stories round the table – the same one I’d nearly set fire to the week before – got rather competitive, but the winner was a woman from Ireland who’d survived being bitten by a particularly poisonous snake in a jungle.

A Sunday walk on Hampstead Heath, the ‘lungs of London’, kites flying high in the sky and one of the best views of the city from Parliament Hill.

Enfield Town, to scout around. Found the community library, a department store and the estate agent I’d chosen online, who was very encouraging; he’d put me on their system, but not ‘activate’ me until I was ready… A native in a cafe warned me that a lot of ‘riff-raff’ were moving into the area from the east – not Russia, but other bits of the borough. Thought I’d visit the ancient parish church for a little local heritage or a more spiritual take on the area, but it was closed.

Somewhere on this trail, I lost a favourite pearl earring, but found I didn’t mind too much. Something small and glowing left behind. Maybe one of the riff-raff would pick it up.

February 21st – February 27th, 2022

A 3-day stay with my landlady friend and a drive south of the river to Barnes, where she wanted me to meet someone who lived in a retirement complex, close to the ‘village’ pond. It was a secure and charming property, but a set-up way above my budget, as I knew it would be.

Dinner in my friend’s kitchen came close to disaster. A tealight added a bit of atmosphere and when the meal was over and she was out of the room, I started to clear things away, moving aside a pile of paper still on the table, then turned towards the sink. I smelt it before I saw it – the corner of a catalogue in the pile and a napkin were curling in merry flickers of flame. It was all over in seconds – the items thrown into the sink and the candle of course blown out, but if I’d also left the room or been a tad tipsier…

Woke up the next day to a real catastrophe in another capital on a similar latitude to London….and a man on the radio saying something about ‘war again in Europe’. The news app on my phone soon invaded by scenes of the brave city of Kiev, the enemy at the gate.

Sitting again at the eventful kitchen table, became aware I was being watched. Through the glass door that led to the garden, the amber eyes of an urban fox were looking at me. Then with a flounce of a matching tail, it was gone.

The next Notes will appear on Tuesday, March 8th.

February 15th – February 20th, 2022

Outside Waitrose, waiting with my trolley, someone stole my taxi. I’d ordered one at the customer desk, given a number to quote to the driver – but when the cab drew up, a rather substantially-sized woman appeared out of nowhere, said it was hers and gave me a death-stare. My number was on his phone, but the man looked at us nervously and hesitated. I was wearing my new combat jeans and thought for a second of ramming her junk-filled trolley with mine, but stepped aside instead, more surprised than anything. An uncivilised shopper, at Waitrose!

Talked and listened to self more than usual, trying to decide the next steps on 3 fronts: legal, financial and moving south. Put new folders together, adding to the existing stack, offsetting all the throwing out….

The gathering storm – but wanted to go to a meeting about making public buildings more dementia-friendly and got ready to go out, planning the route. Nowhere near trees or cranes; my hardest hat, in case of flying objects. But Eunice had other ideas. When the winds started to tear through the garden, my oldest tree seemed to sway, so had to stay put and keep an anxious eye on it. Next door’s Monstrosity – the plastic roof over an illegal swimming pool – was tethered by ropes to great barrels of Castrol, but struggled and struggled to escape the bounds of earth….

It failed, unfortunately; my tree survived too. The only sign of the storm the next day was an object overturned on the lawn, like some helpless metal insect, its legs up in the air – a patio chair I’d forgotten to put away.

February 8th -February 14th, 2022

Peru. Not the deepest, darkest land of Paddington Bear, but an exhibition at the British Museum. The story of a world without writing and mountain cities, rainforest, the driest deserts on earth – and human sacrifice. Lots of severed heads painted on pots.

Read our book club choice of the month – set in another lost and high society, the one of debutantes and ‘coming out’, the life of a Lady in Waiting.

When a friend cancelled our date, I went to the restaurant anyway and lunched alone, which would have been radical once. Later in the week, an aromatic body treatment – beauty therapy – was better than any counselling.

At the cathedral welcome desk again, a slightly awkward moment. A visitor told me he was a campanologist, who ran courses in the ancient, athletic art of bell-ringing and would I be interested in learning it? This deserved some sort of witty reply – there was a compliment in there somewhere – but couldn’t think of one, so just smiled a vague smile instead. Couldn’t really see myself swinging on the end of a rope in a tower…

Didn’t expect a Valentine – but the item in the letter box was the very opposite of romantic: a garden waste removal permit, something to stick on the side of my brown wheelie bin.

February 1st – February 7th, 2022

Hours spent trawling through documentation and old diaries, trying to track down a key date or two – ‘evidence’ for my solicitor – so much detail to get lost in, but a single aim in mind: to end the Horrible History with the housing association, not quite ready to cave in, after all. Also revisited my lipstick collection and applied one in a shade called Sunset Coral, resuming a routine from the Mask-Free era. And sorted out several more books for Tesco’s ‘library’, like a Portuguese dictionary in tiny print and a battered copy of ‘David Copperfield’, for the versatile reader….

An appointment in Harley Street, to thank my surgeon-acquaintance for his referral to Moorfields and talk about corrective filler treatment. Then the tube to Southwark to find the cathedral tucked away almost underneath the arches of the railway. Crossed the Bridge, passed St Paul’s and the Old Bailey, then headed north to Holborn. A personal best: 17,505 steps.

So on the fifth floor of the Bedford- with its view of Centre Point, Senate House and the roof of the British Museum – I slept long and well that night, soothed by the sounds of the city – the low hum of a hotel’s inner workings and traffic in the streets below and distant drone of aircraft in the dark glow of the sky. The Lullaby of London.

January 25th – January 31st, 2022

A reproachful email from Surrey wondered if I were still in the land of the living, because he hadn’t received the usual Christmas card – one of 3 posted in good time, which never arrived…

The Indoor Cafe opened a couple of times for visitors and kept on breathing, counting my blessings – but on another empty day, beset by questions with no answer (when would the next blow fall? when would my sight start to fail?) just didn’t know what to do with myself – so got on a bus to a nearby town. The ancient capital of Mercia, where an Offa had his palace: Tamworth. The weather was freezing, so too cold to enjoy the outdoor market and the castle was closed, but below it, two rivers as ever met – the Anker and the Tame. On the bus back, a slightly unnerving sight – elderly identical twins in identical outfits, the same hooded anoraks, the same scarves, shoes, even shopping bags…

Near dusk the same day, my app told me I was some 500 steps short of reaching the Goal, so I paced up, down and around the gravel beach at the front of the house for no apparent purpose to the outside world, back and forth, sometimes in circles, with a twiddle here and there, till at last the 10,000 steps were taken and congratulatory confetti rained down on the screen of my phone. As I went back inside, a brief glimpse of an astonished neighbour at a window – and a reputation as a local eccentric probably sealed.

January 18th – January 24th, 2022

Hibernation. Wore the same woolly socks for days, as if in a lockdown winter. A new routine in the bathroom – pro-balance, anti-dementia – which involved cleaning my teeth standing on one leg and using the brush with my left, undominant hand. This creates ‘new neural pathways’ or so the man on the radio said.

When I did go out, took the usual pleasure in deciding what to wear, truffling through the wardrobe – it’s all exercise – in search of items hiding in there somewhere. A Guild meeting – a work-related event, no dancing – and a talk by two of the Archetypes ( members of the architecture group) about Rochester and Truro cathedrals, which made me want to go there.

Then a nasty shock from the solicitor, who told me that the housing association (with which the house has an unfortunate legal link) was threatening an innocent old lady – me! – with court proceedings. Punishment for challenging their right to impose obscure service charges. Rang my elder son in a panic and we composed a response together, but this particular dragon demands to be paid and fed and can’t be slain. It’s a battle lost, not won.

January 11th – January 17th, 2022

A nice letter from the council’s Park Department, ‘delighted’ to tell me about their plans for the open space opposite the house. They were going to plant a tennis-court-sized, ‘carbon-capturing’ – Mini Forest!

Met a friend for lunch, my choice a slice of quiche with a strange texture, which turned out to be paper – a napkin stuck, unnoticed, on a soggy bottom…The manager apologised ‘unreservedly’, which sounded a bit like Boris and co.

Put on the lanyard with its turquoise ribbon and did a spot of revision about the history and architecture, ready for a welcome-guide shift at the cathedral. I was alone on duty and there were very few visitors, one a small girl who I showed where to find some tiny sculptures in the Lady Chapel, easy to miss, of angels and a unicorn. When the people had gone and the shift was over, a moment of deep peace in the great Gothic nave – where I felt the spirit of the place and the silent solace of the stones.

January 1st – January 10th, 2022

A little lighter in the afternoons – another tiny tilt towards the sun – and on the second day, a double rainbow appeared in the sky, a bright and beautiful covenant curving over the house. But the year didn’t feel that new; some things stopped, others went on.

The pretty pink pills – the beta-blockers – didn’t agree with me, so that was the end of them. Resumed the Tai Chi. The NHS counsellor offered more sessions beyond the usual cut-off point – she’d ‘learnt a lot from me’ – but thanked her and said goodbye, promising to fill in a feedback form…

The house smelt of cheese. The present from the Enfield 2 was a hamper from Selfridges, including a French cheese so ripe its mould was escaping from the little wooden box. Far too fragrant for the fridge, so I left it out to bloom a bit more, hesitant to put it in the bin. A gift, after all; maybe the new penicillin, or a cure for Covid….

The spaced-out signs on the station platform – Stay Safe and 2 footprints – almost faded away, but masks still on the trains. 24 hours in London: Docklands and Islington. Christmas trees abandoned in the streets, prostrate on the pavement, awaiting collection. Pictures at an exhibition: Late Constable, the ‘cloud king’, at the Royal Academy.

A cold, hard look at my finances, appropriate to the weather. Could I even afford a shed south of Watford? Studying the figures and making a few calculations didn’t exactly spark joy, but glad I have enough marbles left to do so. Maybe a broomcupboard….