A year really can change everything. 52 weeks, 365 days, countless minutes (especially when you’re clock watching at work) and you look back to where you were all that time ago and where you are now and you marvel about different things are. As of this date, 9th May 2013 I have in my life, a house, a hound and a Henry (car).
No one is quite as shocked as me at how fast everything happened; so many years of saving for a house deposit and poring over Rightmove and the property section in our paper and dreaming of painting walls and being able to buy nice furniture and putting up shelves and pictures. It all finally fell into place.
But, oh poor blog, I promised to keep you updated and tell you when all these things happened and life sort of got in the way and house buying is quite horribly stressful and time consuming (especially when it’s your first time) and it just never happened.
Our home was waiting for us to find it, there’s a railway line that runs right behind it and I used to use that very line to commute to London for work (Mr Becca still does) and I must have passed our house hundreds of times and never even noticed it. We’d been house hunting and there seemed to be nothing that was right or was right but had one major feature we just couldn’t compromise on or didn’t feel right and everyone told me how you’d just ‘know’ when you found the right house and despite my doubts, they were right; I just stepped through the front door and I ‘knew’. I loved the light, the garden, the wooden doors, the fact it had parking and a garage, that the street was quiet. That the house number was ‘3’ which is my favourite (and lucky) number, that the concrete on the porch had tiny little paw prints set in where a cat or something had walked though when it was still wet. Despite the fact it was smaller than other houses we’d looked at and the kitchen was small, that our garden backs out on to a railway line, none of these things mattered. We knew it was the right one. It was home.
Home meant being able to buy a car again and become mobile and to be able to get to places. The dire parking situation at the old house meant we had managed without and walked or public transported everywhere but just before we moved, we went and found my dear little Clio whom I promptly christened ‘Lubey’ (He had KYJ in his number plate) and he was adorable and I loved that little car.
And then he bravely gave his own life for mine when I hit some black ice in December, skidded off the road and rolled into a ditch. He was a complete write off, my best friend and I had to clamber out of him but we didn’t have a scratch on us. And I shed a tear as I wasn’t ready to give him up. I grow very attached to my cars and am very much a ‘why replace them while they still work’ kind of person and he was a mere baby compared to my first car; the legend that was ‘The Hoff’, my ancient Peugeot 205 who was much ridiculed by everyone but me. But these things happen and I decided it would be best to get back in the saddle and about a week later, I made myself go and test drive a Ford Focus I’d seen a t a local garage and I drove past where I had the accident.
And lo, the Becca doth say it was terrifying and there was much wailing and gnashing of teeth and talking out loud to herself. But I did it, I survived and I loved the Focus and I henceforth claimed him as my own and I christened him ‘Henry’ after a much beloved cat we’d had when I was growing up and because Henry is a Ford car. Boom boom.
And, oh, our dog. Everyone joked that I’d have a dog the day we moved in. Erm, I waited a month exactly. We moved on the 4th July (Independence Day) and our beautiful lovely, daft girl came home on the 4th August. I proudly introduce, Sora (aka Bum Bum, Bumbles or Squidge).
I contacted the very lovely Greyhound Rescue West of England with what, pretty much, constituted an essay on what a good home we could offer a greyhound and all the doggie experience I had. Lovely people rang me back and asked me questions and we were home checked by the lovely, lovely Marion and Terry who are involved with Greyhound Friends and we passed! And then we went on walk to meet Sora and see if we all got on and it was love. And we signed all her paperwork and paid an adoption fee and arranged a date to come and pick her up while I bought every single squeaky toy imaginable and collars and leads and coats and food. I have been obsessed with greyhounds for years and they fitted into our lifestyle wonderfully as they are so lazy (I have never known a dog sleep so much) but so gentle and loving and we were adamant we were going to get a rescue dog. Sora is like a love sponge, she just adores being with you or being close to you and flopping down on the sofa with her head in your lap. I have many a post to come about wonderful dogs they are. Her unusual name comes from her racing name, she was Mandeville Sky and the rescue kennels already had a ‘Sky’ so she was christened Sora as it’s Japanese for sky and suits her wonderfully as she’s blue! She is the most beautiful grey blue (blue’s my favourite colour) and has the biggest roundest amber eyes – her ‘wolf eyes’. She is a walking food processor; she eats anything and everything (including unidentified dead things when she spots them before I do), is completely daft, super-fast, wants to chase small furry things but is so loving and adore people. We wouldn’t be without her.
So, that’s me. Many life changes and people who’ve come into my life or come back into my life and they’re all family to me I and love them for who they are (whether we’re blood related or not) and there are people who I’ve moved on from. As a great quote my Mum sent to me says, “Cutting people out of my life does not mean I hate them, it simply means I respect me”.
Stick around everyone, let’s see where we end up.