For the past week the Super-Domestique has been away snowboarding in France. Left to my own devices, I’ve used the time to strip the woodchip wallpaper from our main bedroom. By nature an unpleasant job, the tediousness of this project was quickly exacerbated with the discovery that the first layer of woodchip had been laid on top of – wait for it – a base layer of the same material alongside every corner, window and alcove in the room.
Last night I reached the final wall. My enthusiasm for the task had completely waned, but as the unsatisfying shards of woodchip came away it began to reveal handwriting on the plaster underneath: “Harry Barrett, 1963”, and below that, what I think reads: “Harry Barrett married…”
My delight was inexplicable. We know from our neighbours, Mary and Gerry, that the house has changed hands twice in the decade since Harry and his wife lived on Boston Road, and that it was also the last house they shared as an elderly couple; they have both since passed away. “But it was a happy house,” says Mary, with a superstition becoming of her Irish Catholic upbringing, “a house full of happiness.”
The funny thing is that it feels that way too. It is with a degree of pride, belonging or ownership that we choose to put our name to something, and the idea of Harry standing there with his marker in 1963 fills me with a great sense of pleasure.
Thank you Harry Barrett: I like your wall post.
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Tags: Boston Road, DIY, memories, Neighbours, Super-Domestique, Wall posts
I hope you and the domestique leaves a wall post for future explorers to discover
I enjoyed hearing about this. Harry Barrett was obviously madly in love when he was doing that decorating!