The House of Leaves
Dec. 26th, 2020 09:35 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
smokingbootMy mother-in-law has just passed on to us the news that our wedding venue has been sold. It was an art hotel, now its owners are moving to Spain to start a new art park. They were from EU member states, so it make sense that they would move there. We can't be sure that Brexit made them decide to leave, but we can be sure it wasn't an inducement to stay. Not that she mentioned Brexit at all.
After yesterday I do not have quite the Christmas Cheer to treat this as other than sad news, and said so. I added that given the current climate I wasn't surprised. MIL pointed out that it has been on sale for a while, and I replied that the current climate I refer to has been around for 4 years. She has chosen decorous silence in response, for which discretion I applaud her. They both want us to go visit for their Golden Anniversary in summer (a week, no less!) and while I have agreed to do it in principle, my husband knows it will be something of a trial for me. Right now my mood is scratchy and she makes a wise choice not to poke it.
Last night I dreamed I was living in a house once owned by Daft Bint. It was somehow mine now, and though she wanted it, she couldn't have it. She couldn't move me and I didn't want to be moved... And then just like that, I was ready to move into my own place. I told her that she could have the place back and her response was to say delightedly that my place looked like a total mess; she wasn't even being spiteful, she was just so happy! And just like that, moving on was easy...
Maybe this has something to do with me looking at Spanish citizenship. It would take effort, my Spanish language and Constitutional knowledge would need much boning up for the exams, and I need to check how it would affect my pension and taxes, though Blighty's pretty genial about dual citizenship. Of course, Scottish citizenship would be groovy but it looks like there will be a few years before that's an option.
I would go look for my next augury but it's drab and rainy out there. Our house is in a odd part of this road, it's like a wind spiral. At the front the trees are all bent backward from the North Wind, in the garden, the trees are all bent forward from the South Wind. And somehow all the leaves in the surrounding area end up on our doorstep, layers deep. If we were to give this place a name it would have to be something like 'Leafy End' because this appears to be where they come to rest in peace, never to move again til flung in the compost bin by an uncaring Boot.
Maybe the name would look better in Gaelic: Deireadh duilleach?
My Gaelic is non existent, so I would feel like a right fraud, but at least it was spoken in Lothian once. I suspect, very tentatively, that Deireadh duilleach would sound like Jayra Duliak, which doesn't sound particularly musical to my ear. And of course, I may have got it wrong or got Scottish and Irish Gaelic mixed up which would be both hilarious and mortifying. Taigh Nan Duilleagan - House of Leaves - might be better. We both write, the metaphor of leaves as pages is at least as well known in Gaelic as in English. I like it.
But my inner poseur falters at this; it shouldn't really, given that I live in an area of endless illuminated reindeer and a Christmas light show to rival Blackpool Illuminations; but as yet the area doesn't feel like a place of named houses. Maybe it will in time. By then I will at least know enough Gaelic to ensure I don't call the place anything too apt, like Lost Frog Terrace or Cardboard Box Castle.
After yesterday I do not have quite the Christmas Cheer to treat this as other than sad news, and said so. I added that given the current climate I wasn't surprised. MIL pointed out that it has been on sale for a while, and I replied that the current climate I refer to has been around for 4 years. She has chosen decorous silence in response, for which discretion I applaud her. They both want us to go visit for their Golden Anniversary in summer (a week, no less!) and while I have agreed to do it in principle, my husband knows it will be something of a trial for me. Right now my mood is scratchy and she makes a wise choice not to poke it.
Last night I dreamed I was living in a house once owned by Daft Bint. It was somehow mine now, and though she wanted it, she couldn't have it. She couldn't move me and I didn't want to be moved... And then just like that, I was ready to move into my own place. I told her that she could have the place back and her response was to say delightedly that my place looked like a total mess; she wasn't even being spiteful, she was just so happy! And just like that, moving on was easy...
Maybe this has something to do with me looking at Spanish citizenship. It would take effort, my Spanish language and Constitutional knowledge would need much boning up for the exams, and I need to check how it would affect my pension and taxes, though Blighty's pretty genial about dual citizenship. Of course, Scottish citizenship would be groovy but it looks like there will be a few years before that's an option.
I would go look for my next augury but it's drab and rainy out there. Our house is in a odd part of this road, it's like a wind spiral. At the front the trees are all bent backward from the North Wind, in the garden, the trees are all bent forward from the South Wind. And somehow all the leaves in the surrounding area end up on our doorstep, layers deep. If we were to give this place a name it would have to be something like 'Leafy End' because this appears to be where they come to rest in peace, never to move again til flung in the compost bin by an uncaring Boot.
Maybe the name would look better in Gaelic: Deireadh duilleach?
My Gaelic is non existent, so I would feel like a right fraud, but at least it was spoken in Lothian once. I suspect, very tentatively, that Deireadh duilleach would sound like Jayra Duliak, which doesn't sound particularly musical to my ear. And of course, I may have got it wrong or got Scottish and Irish Gaelic mixed up which would be both hilarious and mortifying. Taigh Nan Duilleagan - House of Leaves - might be better. We both write, the metaphor of leaves as pages is at least as well known in Gaelic as in English. I like it.
But my inner poseur falters at this; it shouldn't really, given that I live in an area of endless illuminated reindeer and a Christmas light show to rival Blackpool Illuminations; but as yet the area doesn't feel like a place of named houses. Maybe it will in time. By then I will at least know enough Gaelic to ensure I don't call the place anything too apt, like Lost Frog Terrace or Cardboard Box Castle.
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no subject
Date: 2020-12-26 04:10 pm (UTC)I am thinking "Rest" rather than "End" for the house name. 😊
I am also thinking we should zoom on New Year's Eve! 😊
no subject
Date: 2020-12-27 07:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-12-27 05:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-12-28 03:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-12-28 05:29 pm (UTC)Yes!! You can tell me what the future is like! 😊
no subject
Date: 2020-12-30 12:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-12-30 09:55 pm (UTC)