annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary

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Rocking Horse Winner

Here's an old bit I found

3/9/06

Yesterday was the ninth anniversary of Dad's death. Also the first year that I haven't noticed a flurry of Diana-related stuff all over everywhere, as she died two days before him. I expect they're saving it all up for next year.

My lovely Dad. I was going to write something about being glad that he wasn't alive to see the state I've been in in recent years and it struck me for the first time that maybe there was a connection. Joan always used to say that her father's death freed her in a way she hadn't anticipated and maybe the same is true for me and I was 'freed' to crack up. I know I shrivel up inside whenever I hear someone talk about the dead being with us all the time, at the thought of Dad witnessing my behaviour.

Back in June Elder Daughter brought down a rocking horse that Dad made for her when she was a baby, that was used by all my kids and my nephews and nieces and latterly GrandSon. He's finished with it and they have little space so it's come back. She put it on the drive just outside the garage, and there it has remained, gradually vanishing under an accumulation of stuff heading for the tip. Yesterday morning Bloke finally loaded up his car with all the rubbish and drove off, leaving an empty drive. He'd taken the horse - not unreasonable, given the treatment I'd accorded it, but on the day of Dad's anniversary it became outrageous. I phoned but he'd left his mobile behind. Younger Daughter and I were fighting off tears of frustration until I quickly got more or less dressed and set off in pursuit. I expected to see him coming the other way, but no sign of him, nor at the tip. I quickly looked in the bins that were being used for general waste, but the crushers had been over them and if the horse was in there, it would be in shreds. I asked the scrawny little lad who was hanging around looking important in his fluorescent jacket if he'd seen it, because they take decent stuff out to sell, but he hadn't. Holding the swirly out of control mental shit at arm's length, I made myself walk up and down the row of bins, checking each one before I gave up, and there it was, in with all the wood. I yelled that I'd found it and the lad, looking really happy for me, rushed across, leapt nimbly down into the bin and passed up one very tatty but lovely rocking horse. Whew. It's still in the boot of my car though, as I have no idea where to put it till someone else has a baby.

1:10 a.m. - 16.06.18

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