The most literal angel.

So, yesterday, when I referred to this whole moving thing as a fairground ride, I emailed some friends and said " Stop the ride!" It would appear that one of my angels is a very literal one, autistic perhaps, knowing that I will love him anyway and understand that he meant well he ( or she, though I doubt that somehow) worked his magic and he stopped my ride. It's just that he stopped the wrong one, he stopped the car, the one that had it's MOT today.
Dear old car / damn crapheap failed it's MOT, not catastrophically but enough that it is going to cost money that I have but could really use for other things like moving, or citizenship papers or chocolate, lots of it. It need bodywork ( don't we all?) because one of the rust bits has gone wild and made a jaggedy sharp weapon like thing over the wheel. It has a very sick exhaust and needs replacing (ouch that will be lots of money I think) and it also has a nearside outer rear upper suspension arm that has excessive play in the ball joint, imagine...that one almost sounds like fun to someone with such a sheltered lifestyle as myself. It also sounds expensive.
I called the friendly but very Indian sounding man who supplied parts that saved me much cash last year and he promised to look and call back and give me an estimate, but he didn't and when I called him back he said to call again tomorrow.
I am lacking patience at the moment and find that in the very small areas in my life where I actually have a modicum of control, I have become very forceful and vocal and ready to make clear that HEY YOU! Don't tell ME to come back again! Oh no....just watch me I will go somewhere ELSE and find my parts and you can whistle because this I CAN do and I WILL, yes indeedy. So, I will take it to the nice man who saves me money on my tyres ( spelled correctly thankyou mr spellcheck, don't try and make me use an 'I' because I am English and we use a 'Y' in our Tyres) and he will look at my dangerous and gas leaking exhaust that must not be allowed to pollute the air or make noise and give me a quote to supply and repair.. and if he is nice to me and accepts that I am the boss and in charge, I will let him fix my old car and pay him and not weep or make a spectacle of myself in any way.
I saw a car like mine, well the same make anyway, that was newer and shinier and not at all scratched or bent or rusty, it even had shiny wheels and clean seats. It looks navy blue unless you tilt your head and then it is a sort of purple colour that made me happy. It was for sale at the very same garage that failed my car today. It was £3,995. I bought it in my head because if I am allowing myself flights of fancy about having a roof over my head after june 23rd ( which is the actual and real date we will be homeless) I thought that I really ought to be allowed to really let rip and imagine a shiny newer blue / purple car as well, is there no stopping me ?
So, my literal and probably aspergeric angel stopped the ride for me, bless him.
I spoke to my landlady today, somehow I just can't help liking her, she sounds so apologetic and full of promises that we won't be thrown on the streets and made to live in cardboard boxes. I asked her what she wanted me to do with all the bits and bobs that were left here when we moved in, rugs and pictures and a glorious HUGE mirror that I love. She said we can have it all, take it and keep it. Yeay, I am happy about that because it's nice stuff. so that's kind isn't it? I am also happy about the fact that because the house is sold, we don't have to bust a gut painting and cleaning carpets, the new owners will just rip it all out and do it all the way they want it. So, i shall wipe and wash and make it all smell nice but shan't break a sweat.
I find myself getting almost excited about moving and then I remember that I don't know where we are going and that we don't have anywhere to move TO and then I have to pat my chest and tell myself to BREATHE or I will DIE.
While the car was at the garage failing it's damn test, even though I made it study and told it that it would be so in trouble if it let me down, I took a bus to Torquay which is very beautiful, I walked in the sun and felt a delicious breeze on my face, I bought a magazine and an ice cold lemonade, I looked in shops and wore my crocs flip flops and I realised that all over the world there are women praying and pleading and begging for their childrens' lives, women who can't feed their children or give them even the most basic thing like clean water.
I thought of how heaven must be with the angels trying to hear and answer and protect and I thought about how really, really great my life is. As I prayed, I asked that perhaps one angel be spared just to keep an eye on us, to look out and guide the man who said he would be working on our case at the housing office, maybe my dad has a moment to spare that he can nudge that housing man in the right direction and show him a house that would be right for us. Other than that you know, I don't have much to cry about.
I came home and listed some things on freecycle, I put my posh 3 wheeler pushchair on there because I love it so, Eli doesn't need it anymore and I cannot bear to sell it or throw it away and I listed our piano. Not only do I have that lovely glowy feeling of making someone happy, I have the busiest email box I have ever had in my life.....hundreds , somehow I now get an email every time anyone post anything on freecycle. I could have me a dishwasher and bicycle and empty files and safety gates, you name it, I'm getting it. Hooray, almost feels like I have 100 new friends emailing me to tell me about great deals. I have absolutely NO idea how to stop the emails, for now I am just enjoying the feeling of checking emails and seeing 22 new messages, whoohoo....let me READ them and see who loves me!!!! Oh, table and chairs with screw missing but still has a year or two left in it. Hmmmm lady who is mad that although she emailed me 2 minutes ago about pushchair, I haven't replied yet and have I been trying to reply? HAVE I? Well?? Can she have it or not? NOT!
So, house is sold to regular but sort of rich couple, not investor who loves us and wants us to stay, am accepting that fact and counting the blessings I do have like Isaac who read 200 words at school today in a number 7 voice that was clear and happy, and Elijah who didn't wear his hair extension today but did wear Auntie Leah's flip flops all morning, Sophie who is being nice even though she has AF and that usually makes her the devils spawn, Jordan who hugged me til I had no breath left in my body and told me that he would help us get a new house and that I have looked after him for 19 years and so now he would look after me, Dan who calls and says that he is going to London with friends to see the Lion King and shall he get a twin room and can I come?
And H....who filled the fridge with slimfast because he loves me and not because I am fat but because he doesn't want me to die. Who walks to school carrying basketballs and scooters and precious Nike shoes that must be worn after school because school shoes are rubbish for basketball, who stays until 5 pm letting 3 little boys play and scoot with friends, who brings back 3 little boys so tired they can barely eat dinner and have a bath, who hands over his laptop because mine is being fixed and doesn't even cast a sideways glance while I use it, whose history on his laptop in completely filled with sites about history and animals and all things wholesome and honourable. who sits for an hour every evening reading bambi and grimms fairytales, who makes touching rituals for little boys to do and makes memories with them the like of which we would all pay a fortune to have in our hearts from our own childhoods.
So, the welts have almost gone from my arms, I am pretty sure that there is an angel set aside to look out for us, we will be OK, I am trying to stop fretting over every detail, I am trying to let go and let God and just concentrate on those things I do have control over. Phew, try again tomorrow.