We spent the weekend at Angus's home in Brighton, a little cottage from 1776 that he last lived in almost 8 years ago, with his ex-wife and then young daughter. Time and tennants had not been kind to the little house-a negligent estate agent and tennant failed to report a broken gutter.

Broken gutter gushed water down the house for some years.
Said water leaked into the walls and door frames of one part of the house.
Said walls were soaked with wet rot and damp damage, and the door and window frames were rotted.

Angus was utterly depressed and furious which thus sends me into Uber-supportive overdrive. I whipped into a frenzy of "What-Can-I-Do-To-Help" mode, and as an end-result I worked like a demon for pretty much the whole weekend. I don't actually mind it, when things need to be done I have this hidden switch in the back of my head, a little metal flick-switch that is set to "on" or "off". This switch gets thrown during DIY times, since I go mental when houses are in chaos and things need to be done.

I flipped the switch.
I painted almost the entire inside of the house...all three stories of rooms.
And then I cleaned it all from top to bottom.
And you know what? I didn't mind it at all.

Angus also worked like hell and got all the man jobs-climbing the world's scariest ladder to fix the broken gutter (it cost £20 for the gutter piece. If we had known about the gutter ahead of time, the problem could have been solved. Fixing the damp may cost roughly 1000 times that price. Fucking estate agents.) Cleaning out the fully insect-infested loft. Locks, latches, hinges, lights...it was all his territory.

We stayed with his brother Sam and sister-in-law Jane and their utterly perfect daughter Jilly Thursday night and Friday night, and Saturday we slept on an air mattress in the empty cottage. Jilly is one of the most perfect children I know of-a sweet-faced three year-old whose upturned face sparkles, whose little girl cuddles smell like milk and oranges, with a little hint of that toddler smell that no one in the world can copy. A little girl that if you turn to her and say: "Dude" she'll grin and say: "Sweet."

She makes my ovaries throb to the beat of an Indian drum and makes my arms ache so much it's nearly impossible to hold a glass or maneuver silverware.

This weekend I learned the following:

1) It's very easy to get over an irrational fear of spiders if you simply have no other choice. Fall in England means you have to deal with spiders moving in due to changing weather. Fall in England in a house that has been vacant for 30 days means you have to wade through the cobwebs and just wearily pluck the occasional spider from your hair without flipping out on a level with Sandra Dee.

2) If you paint enough, you wind up with a wrist so sore that it's as if you have provided a hand job to the entire Navy fleet.

3) Sometimes you just have to have a little sex in the afternoon to remind you of what fun you can have in an empty house.

4) If you have a fight sometimes you have to draw a line under it and agree to disagree. He may think I said something fucking insensitive, and I may think he's being an over-reactive jerk, but sometimes it doesn't have to be the end of the world.

5) Any guy that understands why you will get down off a ladder and stop painting just to rush to the radio to turn off the horrible Destiny's Child song and then get back off the ladder to turn the radio on when you think the song is done, is a keeper.

6) I really hate painting. Especially the nasty glossy trim paint that is fucking impossible to get off your skin and if it lands in your hair the only way to remove it is to face the business end of the scissors.

7) I am a lot stronger-emotionally and physically-than I ever thought I was.

Even though I have said that Angus should keep all of his love letters and host them in our house, it didn't stop me feeling a little weird when I uncovered a very old bag of cards he'd written 15 years ago to his ex.

9) Then again, I don't imagine he would be very comfortable if he found things I'd written to other people.

10) He writes lovely things.

11) I'm going to keep him.

12) I can't wait until we have a house of our own. Big garden, big windows, discussions about what lights are good and what lights are ugly and disagreements on the painting schemes await. I honestly can't wait.

13) I miss my dog so fucking much that it makes me crease over in half to try to ease the hurt from my heart down to my toes, where it can take up space and keep my feet firmly planted.

14) The knowledge that you are the one who is mostly responsible for tearing apart a family does get easier to bear over time, even if the feeling never truly goes away.

15) During the argument, I thought: I want to go home. And when I thought that, I meant our little house in Whitney Houston, our little home with the little bed and the little staircase. I yearned for it so much that it floored me to realize...I think of this as home. This is my home. It's my home, and I love living here so much. I'm not sure I have ever really had a home before, but I most certainly do now.

16) I think that some houses can have too many ghosts, even for me. I was glad I didn't take my spare bag that I keep packed with my insecurities, as it turns out I wouldn't have used them anyway. I was ok, and except for a few moments, Angus was ok as well.

17) You can have Egg McMuffins two days in a row for breakfast and still love them.

We attended a party the last evening we were there in Brighton, of a couple that he was acquaintances with and whom had an enormous house and an appetite for party. We had been in terrible moods before the party due to an argument, but we knew it would help us feel better to get out of the house. We went to their home near the water, a home the size of Buckingham palace packed to the gills with people and throbbing music, a bar that was squeezed tight with bottles of every variety of heady and absorbing alcohol. We got drinks and started chatting to various people, getting to know them.

At some point, I felt a hand lift up my shirt and massage my back, moving from my bra-line to the top of my lacy thong. From the corner of my eye I see Angus holding his drink and chatting to some guy, acting innocent as his other hand slowly traced lazy circles on my skin. It made my back tingle and my heart ease up as our moods lightened. I also realized that Angus was by far the most attractive man there, and it made my chest squeeze knowing that he was mine.

Our hostess came by with towels. She handed us two and smiled, pointing to some French doors with long talons ending in French tips. "The pool's out there, if you're interested!"

"We didn't bring our swimsuits." I reply apologetically.

"So? That's no problem. Just go without! Lots of people do, and no one is looking anyway."

Aha. Really? Angus and I look at each other and grin. There was really only one alternative after that.

We go to the French doors.
We open them.
The pool is deserted.
Off go all our clothes and we jump into the pool.

I have never in my life swam in the buff. I have never had the freedom or pleasure of all my limbs and bits feeling free-flowing movement as I cut through the surface of the water. It was utterly liberating and fantastic to feel such warm water all around me and over me, to know that I was doing something considered a bit naughty to most people, and doing so during a crowded party. I absolutely see the point of nude beaches now.

We spent a lot of time in the pool laughing and enjoying ourselves, and got out reluctantly, feeling very hungry and more than a little turned on. We found some food and more wine and ate hungrily, eyeing each other and giggling like teenagers. I found I just wanted to keep touching him, to keep exploring the contours of his face and neck. We went back to the house a little bit later and curled up into each other like tadpoles, falling asleep in the freezing cold house and creating a nest of warmth in the bed.

Sunday we came back to Whitney Houston, most of the work on the cottage in Brighton being complete. The estate agent is sending people around to fix the damage done by the tenant, so Angus is breathing a bit easier now. I walk to the local store to pick up a newspaper, and the autumn sun is warm and inviting, the leaves blowing around the streets. The cricket green has been roped off until next Spring, and I look around and think of just how much I love this place, of just how much I love this life.

We take a champagne bubble bath at home, laughing and relaxing. We eat focaccia and stinky French cheese for dinner, and in the middle of the night we wake each other up for a round of room-darkened whispering sex, falling asleep afterwards and waking up with smiles on our faces.

This is my life, and I never want to give it up.
This is my man, and I never want to give him up, either.

-H.

PS-we have put in an offer to let another house since ours is going up for sale. Just waiting to hear back from the estate agent now. The house is almost exactly like the one we are living in now, only it has parking spaces and two bathrooms instead of just the one. I loved the house right away-it's older than the one we're in now, it has an enormous and modern kitchen, and it has a story to tell-during WWII a German bomber dumped his bomb off next to it as he circled back around to fly back to Germany after a bombing raid on London. The house next door was utterly demolished and this house has an enormous repaired crack on the outside wall where the bomb damage was repaired.

I'm in love with it. We should hear back if our offer was accepted or not today. If it's accepted, we will move in the middle of November-just before we get my cats. And moving will be hard and arduous, a difficult job of packing up and lugging all our belongings and leaving this little house we love in Whitney Houston...and moving the great distance that is this new house.

This new house...which is literally across the street.
Oh, the agony...

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 10:09 AM | Comments (20) | Add Comment
Post contains 1920 words, total size 10 kb.

1 Please let us know when the move date is, I am now officially volunteering to fly/drive/swim over and move your broadband connectiong to the new place. Even if I did swim over I bet I could still get you reconnected sooner than if you go the official route =)

Posted by: Dane at October 11, 2004 11:36 AM (ncyv4)

2 I love the short-range move. I moved three times in four years within the same apartment complex. Drove the U-Haul people nuts because I'd return the truck with no more miles on it than it took to drive it home and back, so my bill was dirt cheap.

Posted by: Z. Hendirez at October 11, 2004 11:40 AM (rbWGy)

3 I stopped reading after the word "spiders." Ack, I will come back after I stop scratching the itchies.

Posted by: Terry at October 11, 2004 12:23 PM (gNfo4)

4 A word of advice about making a short move: If you are literally "moving across the street" you will find it's one of the hardest moves ever. It seems like it should be easy, but it's not. I totally sympathize with Angus on the tenant problems, and the deferred maintenance. People don't realize how quickly a minor house problem can become a big one. I get into arguments with property owners regularly about stuff like this. Oh, and thanks for the hint, but after 17 years of marriage, they all look fucking perfect, so it's really not much help *LOL*

Posted by: Easy at October 11, 2004 02:29 PM (U89mk)

5 Sounds perfect. The whole thing, except of course for the spiders.

Posted by: RP at October 11, 2004 02:48 PM (LlPKh)

6 woo! what a filled up weekend! i'm so glad you've found a new place that's love at first sight. and the kitties! they're coming so soon! yay!

Posted by: kat at October 11, 2004 03:30 PM (FhSIP)

7 You two are such teenagers! I love hearing about wonderful weekends like this. And that you're so happy.

Posted by: Almost Lucid (Brad) at October 11, 2004 03:56 PM (ORtG/)

8 What a great weekend!

Posted by: Mick at October 11, 2004 04:13 PM (VhRca)

9 Hi there. Just bloggin by...followed you from Standing Naked's place. Enjoyed your lovely blog. Thanks for sharing!

Posted by: Katriana at October 11, 2004 06:45 PM (/1QjY)

10 I'm crossing my fingers for you on the house. cross cross cross.

Posted by: martha at October 11, 2004 07:24 PM (Gqe+E)

11 Wow what a wonderful weekend. You sound so deliciously happy and at peace. How lovely, lovely... Fingers crossed for the new house. Toes crossed to. Can't cross my eyes, but if you want I'll throw in my bra straps! love, E VP of the M.A.S. Who missed you this weekend. Promise me your wif-fi will work across the street!

Posted by: Elizabeth at October 11, 2004 08:11 PM (sCupo)

12 OH yes the joy of DYI housing issues. I no longer have a shower for two months due to a wet leak... I sure wish the french would let me dig in. I have that switch so ready to flip. I love Jilly with the Dude and Sweet- that cracked me UP!!! And as for nude swimming, I could have told you that. No kid leaves swim team with out doing the 50 buff dash

Posted by: stinkerbell at October 11, 2004 08:12 PM (HhU+M)

13 Ooh I love a house with a good history! I'll be keeping my fingers and toes crossed for you! I have yet to do the skinny dipping part though. Even with 10,000 lakes around us something about swimming while a fish could bite my bits just isn't appealing.

Posted by: Michele at October 12, 2004 02:32 AM (IMoj2)

14 It's so... It's amazing and wonderful that the two of you found each other at this moment, here and now, when it's right; when it fits. I'm so very happy for you, in so many ways. Good luck with the new house. Although somehow I get the feeling if it is meant to be, you'll be signing leases in no time.

Posted by: Jennifer at October 12, 2004 02:34 AM (vSro2)

15 Sounds like you had a wonderful time despite the spiders. I'm glad to read that you are doing so well. Seems like you have come so far since I first started reading your entries. That makes me really happy because your words show what a remarkable person you are. Best wishes for continued happiness Helen.

Posted by: Talia at October 12, 2004 03:51 AM (dhIcU)

16 I haven't read your whole post yet, my dearheart because I got to this part: I am a lot stronger-emotionally and physically-than I ever thought I was. and was stopped short. After I get the Kleenex out and have a good HALLELUJUA! cry, I shall finish. You can see the grin on my face and feel the warmth of the hug I'm giving you, yes? Good.

Posted by: Margi at October 12, 2004 08:19 AM (MAdsZ)

17 My goodness you can write, my darling. I finally finished, savoring every word. You know, when I was young and lovely (as you are, now) I used to work in a bar that stayed open late (for Texas) and I would come home all sweaty and sticky from Grenadine and peel off my clothes for a dip in the pool in my mother's back yard. There was something about the inky blackness of the sky and the silky softness of the water that felt so decadent -- even when I was swimming alone. I'm crossing everything that's possible (and switching on and off the legs and fingers and stuff when I need 'em) that you have the arduous move to the lovely new house in Whitney Houston. Hugs and love to you and Angus both, darling girl. xoxo

Posted by: Margi at October 12, 2004 09:27 AM (MAdsZ)

18 One minor quibble: you can not have two days of Egg McMuffins and still like them.

Posted by: Simon at October 12, 2004 09:51 AM (GWTmv)

19 Margi-I love you. Simon-Oh YES YOU CAN!

Posted by: Helen at October 12, 2004 10:11 AM (psQcz)

20 Ahhh, the joy of swimming in the buff. It is something I saviored two children and several decades after my teens! Breasts seem to magically float to higher and perkier places back to where they once were a couple of decades ago! Who wouldn't love it!

Posted by: Holly at October 12, 2004 01:05 PM (6Z5mA)

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