A slightly odd moment today. Odd, and disconcerting.
My friend S (he of the magic muffins) and I went to The House Of Oddness over lunch. S will be a father in a few short months and, after getting The Ex's agreement, I offered a whole load of First-Born's baby gear. I'd been very emotionally attached to this stuff (things like her pram, baby-basket and first toys) but for some reason felt able to let it all go after what happened last year. Interestingly, The Ex was the opposite and took some persuading (having nagged me for years to get rid off it all.)
So, off we went to empty the attic. I felt strange seeing items I'd not seen for six years coming down through the hatch while S squeaked excitedly (doubtless cheering himself that he'd be earning huge amounts of brownie points from his girlfriend with his haul)
I prowled around The House Of Oddness for the first time in many months as S loaded his car with prizes. More things had changed since I was last there. But, and this is the thing, I felt absolutely nothing. It no longer felt like my home.
Some rooms however, like the attic, did cause a tightness in my throat as I saw things exactly as I had left them a year previously. I'd been in the process of putting floorboards into the attic and everything - wood, power-tools, nails and so on were still sitting forlornly in their original locations, waiting for their former owner to return and use them again. The layer of dust coating them indicated that it would be a long wait. It was like I'd just popped out and then never come back.
Which, in a way, is what happened.
Its odd how seeing bedroom furniture rearranged and pictures removed did nothing, but the sight of an opened packet of nails, the contents sorted into neat, dusty piles triggered an emotional reaction.
"You ok, man?" asked S
"Yeah," I muttered, "Got some grit in my eye. Thats all."
