So Horace has come to live with us here at the Lane...but wait, I should start at the beginning...
A while ago a kind Uncle gave me this matchbox Morris Minor Traveller. I say "Uncle" that conjures many connotations I know! But in this case we are talking about an Uncle that belongs to Mr.Lane. This Uncle has helped us to build our "home" together, both physically and metaphorically, he is the epitome of a Good Man.
This matchbox car is, in fact the replica of his own vintage Morris and so it was a lovely and symbolic gift. There was no great ceremony, he simply pressed it into my palm and whispered that he knew I would love it, he is right, of course I do.
That was just over 2 years ago, this week we took possession of Horace.Yep! Horace The Morris...
He has been settling into life here Down the Lane, slotting in alongside the Nissen Hut...
At night Horace and Fergie share the bays in the barn, Horace is not overly keen on the rain!
Horace smells, in a really good way! Horace smells of my childhood, bouncing around the North Yorkshire and County Durham border with Magpie in her grey Morris Minor 1000. To sit inside and be overwhelmed by the smell of the leather lined doors and seats, the air scented by a whiff of eau de petrol seeping in from the engine...aaahhh, a little moment of happiness and pure regression, unlocked memories long since lost in the vault.
We are learning each other at the moment, Horace and I. Every morning I look out of the window and there he is looking directly back at me...I feel a swell of affection and gratitude coming in like a high tide...mostly I feel honoured to be entrusted with his future. Mr Lane says I make the gears sing, apparently that's not necessarily a good thing!
I am drawn to the ambiguous nature of the word Uncle, In different cultures Uncle simply means male relative. "Little Grandfather" Kin, Father. In my case this "Uncle" is simply mine through the serendipity of marriage. It is immaterial to me that we do not share blood...the tie is strong, the love and affection I feel is entirely due to the wonderful man he is. When he looks across at me with those kind and slightly laughing eyes it is implicit, less is more...
On the other side of the world the littlest Faraways are developing a fascination for classic cars thanks to Gently, Endeavour and Sylvanian Families. I long for the day when they catch their first lungful of Horace...all jumbled in together on the back seat...one day my loves...
~x~
