I have always been a believer of signs. But although I lack the mental athletics to jump over a disbelieving fence and believe in any kind of God, I won't refute that any kind of God may, occasionally, have something to tell me that I should listen to. When you've lived the kind of life that I have-the roller coaster ups and downs, standing on a beach in awe at a foreign beach or crying in the darkness of the Long Dark Winter of my Discontent, you take direction from whichever path of the wind it may come from.

You might miss something you were meant to find if you don't pay attention.

A sign can be in many forms, it can come in many ways. It can be a flurry of rose petals that dance down the face and light up the night. It can be a ticket mysteriously appearing in the mail. It can come from a broken down car in the right broken down place at the right broken down time. It can come from a man holding your hand as you cross a busy Bangkok street, it can be the arrival of two furry black cats that heal a hole in your heart.

I found a sign last week on the train. I was sitting in my seat doing some work and I kept seeing a reflection in the window. One row over, something was sitting abandoned, so I got up to see what it was. Sitting there on the row of seats was an enormous Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory posterboard, the one of his letter to the world (Dear People of the World...). It now resides in my kitchen. It was a sign.

Of course, it was a literal sign. There are other non-literal signs. In the early days of Angus, I phoned him one day. We were across oceans from each other, but at that exact moment we were both in book stores. And we had literally just bought each other something, which when we swapped presents we found we had both bought each other one of those cheap plastic snowglobes of the countries we were in at the time. Mine still resides on my windowsill, his had an accident and he has a replacement for it, as I went back to that country another time.

And then sometimes a sign can take a different form. Sometimes it can be something much more tangible, sometimes it can be something that takes you where you need to be, if only you can understand the sign.

Sometimes, it takes the form of a letter.

On Friday we were both working from home, as we can sometimes do now since Angus started his new job last Monday. It's awkward, as we only have one study, and we desperately need more room but can't move until the house in Ovaltine is sold. In the middle of conference calls, Angus sneaks upstairs with a cup of coffee to talk to me.

"The estate agent just rang." he says, running a hand through his hair. "We've had an offer on Ovaltine."

I feel my mouth dry up in excitement. "And?"

"Well, it's about 13k less than asking. I told him I'd think about it." he says, his brow furrowed.

I nod, my heart in my mouth. That house is a constant source of depression and worry, we both just want that to go away. I get back on more conference calls, and then I hear a satisfying thunk of the post arriving on the porch.

I hang up, finished with my call. "Anything interesting?" I call down.

Angus comes up the stairs, looking puzzled. "Potentially. It's the strangest thing..." he says, quietly. He holds up an enormous white envelope that he has torn into, which was sent through the post but is missing his address on it. Somehow, the mail made it to him with just his name only, the postman must've figured out where he lived. He looks at me.

"This post made it to me somehow, even though my address isn't on it." he says, smiling. "And look what it is."

And he pulls out a brochure of that house, that dream house that we bid on twice and lost twice. The last time it disappeared off the market it was mid-June, and my heart crashed and burned. I have thought of that house many, many times since, and so has Angus.

And on the day that we receive a bid on Ovaltine, somehow through the post a brochure comes through. That house is back on the market for sale.

It's a sign.

We called the estate agents and accepted the offer on Ovaltine. Don't get too excited just yet-there's much, much more to come. Contracts to sign, surveys to be done, finances to arrange. The whole deal could tumble at a moment's notice, but we have a deal, and now the house is listed as "Offer Agreed".

Then we called the estate agent for the new house. I blew off conference calls just to go see it with Angus, hanging up my mobile phone on them while driving, my heart beating and my lungs bursting. We pull up to it, and there it is.

The house I love. "It's a sign." I breathe.

"I don't believe in signs." Angus retorts. "But, it is strange how on the same day we finally get an offer on Ovaltine this comes in, and it is strange that the letter found our house somehow, even without the address on it...Look, let's not jinx it, ok? Don't start hoping too much!"

Built in 1914, on an enormous patch of land, it's one of those English specialties that doesn't even have a house number. It's called The Blackberries, and is located in a town 5 miles away from here, a town that sounds like a winding and beautiful ABC evening soap opera. We tour it, and as usual there are the owner's two loping golden retrievers, the fish pond, the greenhouse, the kitchen we could tear out and rebuild, the bedrooms that need updating, the space for the conservatory we will put in and the extensions we can build on, the gigantic sculpted gardens and the quiet of the blood coursing through our bodies, begging for the house.

It is just as wonderful and perfect as I remembered it.

I look at the house and see Maggie and Mumin in the back garden. I see a hammock under the arbor, by the ancient apple tree. I would have a duck for my fish pond, whom I will call Wilbur. There will be a dog loping through the trees, settling with a sigh at my feet. Angus will be nearby, a gin and tonic at hand. I don't have the heart yet to imagine a baby monitor next to me, that's one dream too far, but I can imagine up to it.

We put in an offer on it, contingent on the tricky details of Ovaltine being settled (which is very tricky indeed, as house sales fall apart all the time). We go home and have rampant sex in the kitchen and living room. We drink a bottle of champagne.

And Saturday morning, we found out that we have won The Blackberries.

-H.

PS-Angus has requested that we not jinx it if I do blog about it, so whatever you do, let's not jinx it. If you want to leave a comment, make sure it isn't about houses

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 08:16 AM | Comments (18) | Add Comment
Post contains 1263 words, total size 7 kb.

1 I do SO love blackberries. And Blackberrys. And you. And I'm crossing every available appendage. And eyes, too! Just. Because. I can. P ~

Posted by: Margi at September 12, 2005 09:40 AM (nwEQH)

2 Â… what is rampant sex ;-)?

Posted by: Miguel at September 12, 2005 10:13 AM (cKRpy)

3 On Friday I had my first experience with a true Crackberry addict. All day meeting for a project I'm consulting on with out of town folk. One of them (SVP in charge of client division) had a Crackberry with a battery running down. He left the meeting to walk around asking people to borrow a charger. Came back with a lost puppy dog face and a dead Crackberry. He sat in morose silence for an hour and then had an epiphany. He dug furiously through his suitcase and emerged triumphantly with the golden fleece "I just remembered - I brought my external charger!" He looked like my kids do on Christmas morning. Every ten minutes afterward he did the tilt and peek to check his email, sated and glossy eyes surreptitiously caressing his obsession. I've changed my mind about getting one. I've got a moderately obsessive personality and apparently you can get hooked with just one hit.

Posted by: Jim at September 12, 2005 11:07 AM (oqu5j)

4 Wait, wait, wait. Angus doesn't believe in signs...but he's afraid of jinxing things by talking about them?

Posted by: Z. Hendirez at September 12, 2005 11:17 AM (KIaB+)

5 Jim - I've been in meetings where the person running it has ordered everyone's Blackberries onto the table so they're out in the open. Most are too embarrassed to look after that. Interestingly those meetings tend to go the best. H - are you buying a house or a zoo?

Posted by: Simon at September 12, 2005 11:31 AM (OyeEA)

6 Angus was on a dive boat in Egypt where the guy wouldn't put his Blackberry down. Now there's a true addict for you. I use mine occassionally, but not often enough to even warrant charging it once a week. Sadly, you can't order people to turn off the Blackberries, but we do insist on mobile phones being put on silent. Simon, I would totally buy a zoo, but I think the other game warden is going to put the kaibosh on that. I just know I'm never going to get that pony. Or the penguin I want. Miguel-Rampant Sex = Angus + Helen on Holiday

Posted by: Helen at September 12, 2005 11:35 AM (bw/4F)

7 The next time my stupid dog catches a duck in my back yard, I'll name it Wilbur and send it to you. (He's not really stupid. He's actually very smart, but very singleminded when he find an intruder in his yard.)

Posted by: ~Easy at September 12, 2005 01:38 PM (NL+Vn)

8 Unless it's too obvious to ignore (and I mean like if I needed $10,584 to put down on a time-share, and I got a check in the mail from my dearly departed great aunt for $10,583 to $10,585) I don't put much stock in "signs". As a friend of mine says, it's too much like trying to read tea leaves. If I'm trying to buy a car but have to wait for mine to sell first, and mine's taking a while to sell; do I A) think God is telling me not to buy a new car, B) think God is telling me to be patient, C) think God wants me to pursue a different car, D) think God isn't concerned (not really an option given my beliefs E) think God is telling me to persevere, or F) none of the above. It's too tough for me to look for "signs", so I simply try to do what I believe is right, hope it pleases Him, and trust He'll be gentle in correcting any wrong turns I take. I tried to be as generic as I could. Hope I didn't break the "religion" rule

Posted by: Solomon at September 12, 2005 01:46 PM (k1sTy)

9 I've always been a true believer in signs... I can't help it. And jinxes, of course. To the point that I refused to go over to a friend's house since she named her cat Jinx, which really bothered me.

Posted by: amber at September 12, 2005 01:58 PM (VZEhb)

10 I absolutely truly madly believe in signs. Yep. All the way. It happens to me all the time. Someday when we're back to talking houses, I'll relay my story about mine and the signs involved. I'm SO happy for you! Nobody deserves this kind of happiness like you do. The rest is just a matter of time...

Posted by: sue at September 12, 2005 02:59 PM (WbfZD)

11 I am a definite believer in signs! I also love your "imaginings". The two black fuzzy balls you speak of: I have two of them also, and they did heal a whole in my heart. Love the way you put it!

Posted by: kenju at September 12, 2005 03:38 PM (+AT7Y)

12 I absolutely LOVE the idea of Wilbur, the cats in the back garden, and the dog loping around! I shall not speak of that which we're not supposed to mention. Instead, I will focus on the dog. And yes, I, too, believe in signs. My favorite sign in the whole world, though, is the one marked "Clearance." See? I haven't mentioned that one thing!

Posted by: scorpy at September 12, 2005 03:54 PM (3CdU2)

13 I'm so impressed! A house with a name! Those are so damn cool! It sounds beautiful, and while I'm totally wishing I had a house that had a spot for a hammock, you lost me at the duck. Been there, done that. Well, at least I have family that has, and watching from a distance was enough. My fingers are crossed for you darlin'!

Posted by: amy t. at September 12, 2005 04:08 PM (zPssd)

14 Dang, not about houses? Shucks, just when I was going to suggest you name it "Chicory," which is a good substitute for "Ovaltine." I don't know; maybe you can do better. I doubt it, though, because I am pretty good at naming things, like my dog, "Puddles."

Posted by: Old Horsetail Snake at September 12, 2005 04:23 PM (acLa9)

15 Some signs scream, some whisper. Good for you for hearing them all. Fantastic-that is all I will say.

Posted by: Teresa at September 12, 2005 06:02 PM (zf0DB)

16 Ducks and dogs are good things. I was wondering the same thing as Z. It's not required, but I always thought that signs and jinxes went hand in hand.

Posted by: sophie at September 12, 2005 11:14 PM (yZwDD)

17 Its all so very exciting and I hope and pray that it all goes well.The H.... sounds gorgeous and I love the name! Good luck Hlen and Angus

Posted by: butterflies at September 13, 2005 12:03 AM (naDdC)

18 I look forward to virtually meeting Wilbur. What kind of duck will he be?

Posted by: caltechgirl at September 13, 2005 01:05 AM (/xzJW)

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