Flynn and I fly away

We’ve been extra-busy for a couple of months, getting 107 ready for sale and our stuff ready to deliver to Warland. It’s been a trying time, with other factors impacting our schedule, but the end result is that we look hope to be all done in Australia soon.

The plan still stands: that I leave to pick up the keys while Monica remains to sell 107 and close down our life here. We had the house on the market only a week late but, as it turned out, that was for the best.

With only a week to go to the first open day, with stylists, cleaners, gardeners etc all working or booked, poor old Flynn was diagnosed with cancers throughout his abdomen, chest and blood. We asked the vet to call to help the dear boy on his way on the Thursday, when he could no longer breathe very well. We had a last walk on the beach, when he asked me to carry him home. He was very thin but still smelt wonderfully of the sea and straw. After sitting in the shade on the lawn next door for an hour, just sniffing the breeze, it was time to await the vet. When the moment was upon us, Flynn was happy to be fussed over in Monica’s arms. He looked at me for the last time with his brave, brown, loving eyes and quickly faded away. What a sad, sad loss! While he was waiting to be buried in the dunes, Bandit lay next to his body to say goodbye; we planted a native grass over him so that he can return quickly into the cosmos.

At this point, the cleaner let us down and set back the sale preparations a week but, of course, we were glad of the time to grieve. We still miss him with passion. He was a strong-willed animal who, it turns out, set the schedule for our days by organising walks, meals, wake-up calls and sleep-timers. The three of us left have missed our meals because his gentle cues haven’t been there to guide us.

That was on the 8th of September. We’ve now shown the house for three weekends and had good interest in it, especially as the overall housing market is sluggish. Our agent, Kris, will now close down this phase towards the end of October, by which time we should have enough registered bidders to find a buyer.

The house looks wonderful, hence the interest, after we’ve spent many hours and dollars getting it up close to perfection. Unfortunately, keeping it that way means no cooking, no shed-work, not much fun, really. I’m very pleased that Monica is keen to stay to complete the sale because I feel like I’ve been on the move for years now; slowly bringing our lives back from Sydney and now bouncing off Adelaide to Warland Farm in the Pennines.

So, I leave Australia, perhaps forever, on Sunday morning. Everything I can do or wanted to do here is complete; all that’s left is to pack away the computer and to help Monica prepare for another weekend’s showings in any way that I can.

The farm calls strongly; I’m keen to start a dialogue.

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