I thought that I should like to make use of such a fine day, and go for a walk. But my husband did not want to come for a walk with me. I was angry with him for not prioritising his time, right now, while the weather is fine. So I drove down to the river and walked there, listening to Moby Dick. I saw other parents, both male and female, without their partners and their offspring in pushchairs. But even if you have a child in a pushchair you are not alone. Later I saw many other middle-aged people walking briskly on their own, or walking as husband and wife.
I also saw ducks and geese, seagulls and swans, and many young crews out rowing, all of which were beautiful and made me glad. I took a detour and saw the house where I grew up; my grandparents lived there before I was born. When Grannie and Grandad lived there the house was well-kept and so was the garden - a long herbaceous border down one side that later my father took out and replaced with roses. We had dark green paint around the windows. Now the window frames are all cracked and peeling and the house looks almost derelict. Only a Sky dish on the side of the house shows you that it is lived in. What a waste! Rivermount. All the other houses in the road seem to have been extended - an extra garage and a room over it for the au pair, at the very least.
I think I want my house back, but if I had it back, would it make me happy? Maybe bad memories would come flooding back.
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