Had to say au revoir to Goldfinch and climb on the train…and now I am back in London sulking. Partly sulking because today was a perfect day and I didn’t want it to end. But partly for another reason which I will enlarge upon.
The second reason I am sulky is that everywhere we went today there were people. It is summer after all, and now that the World Cup is over and Wimbledon Tennis Championships and everything else that kept people on the sofa or at the pub seems to have evaporated…people are out at National Trust properties again – in large groups. In addition Goldfinch has two housemates who we have to be considerate of and Goldfinch confessed he had not done any tidying up. So I was not allowed anywhere near the man-cave today.
We did have a lovely day…we went to a beautiful location and had a lovely meal and afterwards ate triple chocolate cheesecake. Goldfinch was just as wonderful and gorgeous as ever. But there just seemed to be always someone there, spoiling every “moment” between us.
There was one brief moment inside the little music-room adjoining Florence Nightingale’s bedroom (at her sister’s house in Claydon, Buckinghamshire) where there was finally just he and I. But it did not last for long.
I just wanted to curl up in a hammock holding tight to Goldfinch and listen to his voice all afternoon, rather than be squeezed into corners by large groups of National Trust visitors. I wanted to have him all to myself and gaze into his eyes rather than being asked to move out of the way while somebody else took a photo.
So for these reasons, I have come back a tiny bit sulky (which is also probably because it is past midnight and I have been awake since 4.30am). I saw this photo from from The Haunted Wordsmith and I thought…that’s where I would like to have been with Goldfinch – and please forgive me for being anti-social, but I would just want it to be he and I with no one else.
Could the whole world just halt for five minutes and let Goldfinch and me get off at this stop please? This location would be just perfect for us. You don’t have to be an esthete to appreciate why I would want to be at this stunning location on my own with Goldfinch…although we would need a larger hammock – is that a hammock? Teresa Gibbs I have no idea what is hanging from the tree, I am only guessing from something I picked up on in your post that it might be some kind of hammock, but please forgive me if I am totally wrong.
Goldfinch is a self-proclaimed hedonist and an esthete. I have been a bit scared of these aspects to his character because they are absent from my own personality. But today I finally understood…and tomorrow when I am not fighting to keep my eyes open, I will explain what it was that made me understand him better than ever today.