Happily wrong.

So, six months on from my last post and a new year. Life got in the way ,  but here I am , back again.

The seductive landscape got so seductive that we decided to move into the landscape. Goodness, I had forgotten the realities of estate agents and property viewing. Without exception every estate agent I had dealings with I would , in other circumstances cross the street to avoid. I will spare you the detail of all the properties we looked at. I thought I was cynical enough to know when  "box room "meant cupboard and when  "garden " meant three plastic chairs on four paving slabs with an uninterrupted view of the bins .....

We wanted an older property of character and looked at all possibilities. In the end I got into the habit of saving the less dreadful and the new possibles on my chromebook. One evening we came home from more heartbreak, dog mess, broken fences, view of the back of pound land. I sat at the screen and idly clicked through what had arrived that day. I clicked on one - I promise this is true - and gave a whoop. I called the saxophonist "we can afford it , it has everything we wanted and it looks lovely " I bawled. "Oh hang on".
"What " said the saxophonist walking into the room and over to the screen. We both looked at this latest estate agents e mail and then at each other.
It was our house.

We went to the local pub a while ago.There was a mobile phone on the path.I picked it up. As we walked in I spotted a teenage girl frantically looking on the floor and under the tables. I checked the name on the phone and walked over to where she was talking into another mobile.I asked her for her name and handed it over. She said into the phone "oh I've got it back from a lovely little old lady". I said  " not so much of the old ". The saxophonist brought our drinks over and I told him. He roared with laughter. I told him it was not funny . He said of course it was as I was the least likely candidate for that description and that the girl was not much more than a child and anybody over twenty five was ancient to her. I calmed down. But I remembered it.  Oh I remembered it on those mornings when I looked tired or felt the passage of time.

Fast forward to another night. The saxophonist wanders through "fancy sharing a bottle of wine down the hill?" he says. I pull on my boots and coat and slap on my fedora against the drizzle. I have not put my hair up , I am not wearing makeup and I have not changed the clothes I have been wearing all day.  We go into the unusually crowded bar. There is a group of men in their early thirties standing and drinking together. They are well heeled , intelligent looking - not bad looking either. As I pass one of them looks me over and says , in a loud voice , "MILF" . I pretend I have not heard it and keep going.

Now , children what did we learn today then ?
Well , I think we acquired a fresh appreciation of what we have got and how lucky we are to own it .
I think we also learned about picking your audience and having faith in yourself .
I cherish our home again.

 Was I insulted to have a credible stranger call me a milf ?
  Hell,no ! I grin every time I think of it .

So ,children look afresh at what is commonplace to you , what you take for granted and what you doubt about your life and yourself.
You may find yourself happily wrong.