Build it and they will come.

We have been in a dilemma, H and I, since we moved here, the local kids run wild, out and about until after dark, nobody checking on them and they are doing what unsupervised kids will do. We don't want our boys to do that, we think that boys, (the older they get the more they need it) need supervision, direction, to be kept busy and their attention held. They need to be occupied and feel as if they are doing something worthwhile and fun, get tired and hungry and their parents should be able to feel sure they aren't going to get a visit from the police any time soon!
The dilemma is this, if we keep the boys here then they will be known as the snobs, outcasts and there will be trouble for them in no time at all. If we let them be out and about the way other kids are then they will behave the way other kids behave. We live here, we have to belong and we need to be known and accepted. So we decided, my H and I that the way to go will be to make this a place the other kids want to be, make it so that they can look over the gate and really wish they were a part of it and then, well then we are in charge. We get to choose and say that good kids can come in whenever they like, they can have fun and snacks, they can laugh and be boys and they will be welcome but if they aren't nice, if they bully or swear, if they fight mean they leave and they can't come back until they know how to behave.
We knew that was a great plan but we weren't sure how to do it, or I wasn't, H knew of course.
H has been pruning and cutting back all the trees and bushses, I am watching from afar and so far it looks impressive and the hedges and trees look very bare and short and more than a little pathetic. What isn't pathetic however, is the growing mountain of sticks, twigs, branches, old rubbish, broken fencing, lattice, planks of wood. We have found an enormous iron garden roller ( he, listen to me saying "we", I am almost the queen) a trade sized tea urn and such treasure as you would never suspect could be hidden in an English country garden.
As well as the growing bonfire fodder there became the most fabulous little hidden space between some hedges and trees, a space that was screaming "DEN" at us, yesterday we bought some play bark and let the boys line the floor of the den and then we let them at it.
The plan is taking hold so beautifully we couldn't have dreamed of such success.
This morning, while I was having a lie in ( which seemed such a great idea at the time) the neighbourhood took over, when I got up I beheld a sight for scared eyes.
We have a bonfire pile ( or 3 ) that makes me shudder because it is going to take 3 weeks to burn this stuff, we have tables and chairs added to the pile, our neighbours must think the tip has come to our street because truly, I kid you not.
I looked out 30 minutes after I declared this bonfire was not my business and I was pretending I knew nought of it, to see the table and chairs ( all but 2) had disappeared and much excitement was coming from the Den.
Isaac had put the table back together again and put it in the Den.
 I had to take pictures because this was 'the plan' Oh it is such a marvellous thing to see, little boys all safe and happy, occupied in good activities and all feeling quite as though they have the world at their fingertips. I am sure that the novelty will wear off and then we may have to build on it somehow, come up with new ideas.
This afternoon we will have a bonfire and hot dogs, marshmallows and fizzy pop and the good kids will be here too, then they can run the streets tomorrow and tell their other friends what goes on in this house on the corner, where the new people live, the mum is a bit mean and she tells you off if you are rude, she makes you go home and tidy your bedroom before she lets you come back for the bonfire and hotdogs, the dad is quiet and lets you do stuff with hammers and drills and you don't get yelled at for smashing old furniture to bits with a hammer and put stuff on the pile for a bonfire. You can make stuff and break stuff, you get to climb the trees and kick stuff but you can't be mean, you can't swear and you can't fight else you have to go home and you can't come back til the next day or even the day after that.
I love it when a plan comes together.

This is the back door.

And the front door..

This is a mammoth task, is it not?

Grand Den.

And I am naively telling myself that this will all result in a beautiful garden, it is almost impossible to picture right now because oh my good grief this is an enormous pile of what the hell.

Within these walls.

We're home. My family and I, we are home.
Funny, isn't it, how you deal with something and live something and it all feels so endless and miserable and you just know that it will never be over and then, quite suddenly, it is over and you immediately feel as though that wasn't so bad after all? I think I feel a bit like that.
When did the rats come? Can you remember? I can't remember exactly when they came to that house we were living in, I remember how horrified I felt and how helpless and useless, how filthy and miserable it was to see and hear and above all, smell those creatures as they took over out home. The trapping, poisoning, fearing, month after month and then year after year. You don't get used to it, you get less horrified or perhaps actually you just get numb. Dead inside and you give up. I say you, I mean me. Me, I gave up. I stopped being able to care about anything in that house, H stopped caring and we just got through each day.
The house had the potential to be beautiful, a big solid house with character and promise, had the house been mine, who knows, it may have been beautiful but it wasn't, it belonged to a man who didn't care about much else getting his rent. So, that, as they say, was that.
Mould didn't matter, neither did leaking showers, no matter how often ( every 6 months for 4 years) we reported that the shower poured water through the ceiling onto the floor outside the lounge, it didn't get fixed and so we just got used to putting towels on the floor and we almost got used to the smell of damp, moldy floors.
We became accustomed to, thoug never used to, the smell of the rats. We didn't see any for the last few months of living in that house but we could still smell them, you know that saying" I smell a rat"? I can't tell you how many times I thought that over the last 3 years, what a foul, putrid stench that is.
Oh enough of the rats, we've been there and overdone that subject more than once. Enough because they may still be there but we're not. We left and we came home. Just like that, as if it was meant to be.
2 weeks ago I got a call from the council to say that our name had come up for a house and would we like to view it? Um YES we would. So we went to see this house, this ordinary house at the end of a street and we liked it.

It has 4 bedrooms, 2 toilets and a huge garden, a big, beautiful garden and when I stand in the garden I can see the river and trees,  you see that? That is what I can see from my garden. Oh joy.
We had a week to move, one week, well to be specific, nine days. From start to finish, nine days. Day 1 as the ' would you like to see this house?' call and day 9, move in.
We did it. In nine days we packed, sold, dumped, bought, gave away, shifted, the new house is miles away from the old one and I drove 80=100 miles every day for those nine days taking boxes and bags. H stayed at the old house and he packed and cleaned and emptied and I drove and delivered, I advertised and  sold all that we didn't want or need and by some miracle I made enough money to pay for the move and but what we needed for the new house. Almost to the penny, don't tell me that's a coincidence because I won't believe you.
We did this pretty much without any help, I paid a man with a van and a great man from church to move the big stuff, Sophie, my Sophie was like a pack horse, she and I have done so much lifting and dragging, cleaning and scrubbing, she has been my right hand woman and she is a star.
H is a veritable treasure, not a word has he muttered but he worked his fingers to the bone, we have been the 3 muskateers, a formidable team, if I say so myself.
At the end of each day I have literally crawled into bed, not a muscle has escaped the torture. My poor bones and back have been screaming in their poor old determination to be left alone, yesterday was the final day, the day to shut the door, hand the keys to the letting agency and walka away. H and I drove to the old house to collect the final load of bags and boxes and as we drove away the floodgates opened, the the relief and the sheer exhaustion came pouring out in a marvellously satisfying snot cry.
And so, here we are. At home, where we can stay forever, where we can choose exactly how we want things.
 One thing that struck me, when we got the keys and could come here and look properly at the house is that there are no picture hooks, the walls are all bare and it's a blank canvas, this house. When you move into a rental house there are always picture hooks and that's where you hang your pictures, if there aren't enough hooks you can add your own but you never actually get to choose exactly where your pictures go, I was so thrilled to see that we can hang our pictures wherever we want.
We've been here 7 weeks now, 7 weeks and still, not a day passes by where we don't pinch ourselves and remind ourselves that this is it, our home, for real and for as long we choose to live here!
We have already done so much to make it ours. H and Isaac have built a pantry, a glorious, walk in pantry that is on it's way to being stocked and full of all the things we use.

I found some fabulous beds on Ebay and a Facebook selling site for the boys, they have great bedrooms...

Seth's room is small but pretty cool too,

Sophie's room is small as well but she has made it look beautiful!

Our room is one in progress and one of the things I love is knowing that there isn't a rush, we can take our time and do it all as we find what we need.

 No carpet yet, that's something to look forward to!

I love this house, the garden is going to be such a joy, so much space, such glorious views, fresh ,sea air and a huge vegetable plot!

Isn't it great?

Look at the view on Christmas eve , standing in our garden....

Heaven is what this is. We had to wait a while but my goodness, this is so worth it.

It's all done.

The boys' room is finished and we love it. I bought some material with 4 x4 vehicles on it and altered their cowboy comforters and I framed one panel of the material, it looks pretty splendid though I say so myself! I have to make some curtains but I am waiting until I find just the right material for them.




The total cost of the whole room, including the 'new' dresser was £96. I so wish I had taken 'before' pictures because the difference is astounding but I was so ashamed of how dreadful it was!
Seth's room is the next one and I am just as daunted by that prospect because his room is filled with creatures and aquariums, vivariums and his treasures. He is a hoarder and hates to give anything away, he likes his things where he likes them, which means it is sort of tidy in a Seth like way but it will take a lot of organising to get it looking great.
I like having plans, hate not having the means to do exactly what I would like, although I will admit that the satisfaction of having spent so little and changing it so much is enormous.

Oh where oh where can he be?

Well, here we are, home all safe and sound. Most of us anyway. H is wandering the streets of London, perhaps with a knapsack on his bag ( folderee) Why is it that the simplest of things are so ridiculously arse over elbow?
Helen and Sophie come home......H catches bus to meet grandpa.....grandpa and H come home. How simple is that?
Not at all simple, it would seem.
Grandpa called and gave us his flight details, hooray! December 10th he will be here, 1.20ish, Terminal 3 ..(oh, OH NO! Terminal THREE! Ack, penny just dropped, will explain more later) OK, so I am about to write how he called and said that grandpa never got off the plane, Jerry Springer did but not grandpa. Hmm...bizarre.
I called around and discovered that grandpa flies on December 10th but guess what? He ARRIVES tomorrow. Bollocks.
So, oh well, get the bus home ( 5 hours) get some sleep and tomorrow we will either drive or he can get the bus back ( 5 hours) and meet his dad.
Right as the bus was due back and I was about to go and meet him, he called to say "hey , you know what? I think I will stay here, in fact I AM still here and will just hang out all night and wait for dad"
His neck is hurting, he has NO money ( well maybe enough for breakfast in the morning) but not a room at a B and B or something.
Of course he called from a payphone because H and phones don't mix, he doesn't answer phones and he doesn't make calls unless it is unavoidable. So when he said he loved me and would call tomorrow and then put the pay phone down, I had a brainwave and called Uncle Barry, he lives 40 mins away and said he would drive to the airport and find H, take him home and return him to the airport again tomorrow....only we couldn't call H to let him know, Barry went to the airport and saw the whole place empty, the restaurants closed, the desks were empty and eventually he managed to have a tannoy message calling H, by this time the place is deserted, no-one to be seen. No H, not a sign of him. In Terminal 5.....FIVE I sent Barry to 5 because H said he had been over there to check it out and was talking about how cool it is ( and I know because I was there, only today! Coincidence, life's hysterical isn't it.
Only as I began to type and 'terminal 3' tripped off the end of my fingers, did I realise that H is waiting at 3 and Barry was at 5...which is very far away from all the other terminals, it is all brand new and posh. All I can say is that I hope the airport hasn't turfed him out into the sub zero night and it stays open all night long.
I am exhausted I could crawl into my bed and sleep for a week but I can't even sit still because I am so worried about H (although less so now because I have a small hope that he is in terminal 3 all oblivious to the fact that he had a bed for the night and a ride in a warm car) Also, he is a grown man, he is not stupid and he CHOSE not to come home to save £32.
I am a tad miffed that it is perfectly acceptable for his wife to get buses and planes on her own but his dad must be escorted to the door...although again, I insist he goes to meet his dad ( not that it ever takes any amount of persuading) So, I am just cross because I am here and he is there ( where?!) and I want to sleep and can't because he might be horribly cold and miserable ( nudges self and says again HE CHOSE to do that!) it is one night, he can stay inside ( oh please!) and tomorrow he will come home to a clean, warm, tidy house. Something I did not do today. All I shall say on that matter is this, if anything happens to me? I am not sure what would happen to the rest of this family. I don't know what HAS been happening but oh my goodness I can see what HASN'T been happening, ( laundry, cleaning, shopping, bathing of children, tidying) I am overwhelmed for today and also reminding myself that I did not clean before I left . The good thing about feeling I am in for a long night is that I was feeling like I could never get any of this work done before grandpa arrived...already, in my state of imagining the very worst ( frozen corpse in back alley of Heathrow airport for starters, you know how it is) I have already done the laundry, dishes, bathed the boys, shopped and stocked the cupboards....amazing what a bit of panic can help you achieve.
The flight home was great, a mere 5 hours and 50 minutes, an hour of that spent sleeping off the miracle of relaxing drugs. Dan got us home from the airport by 9 am...perfect!
I am so happy to be home, I saw Eli in his Christmas play and his little face when he saw me there was priceless. Seth is happy to have me home and Isaac, bless his heart didn't even care that we were in the middle of the playground when he saw me waiting for him, he hugged and and held my hand and was like a little cat, leaning against me and rubbing his face on my arm.
I love my family, I so hope that my husband isn't turning into a human Popsicle as I sit here with heat blasting and comfy jamas on!
I had the best of times again in Boston, even better than last time I think. Such a lovely feeling to be with my friends and to watch how loved that girl of mine was. She was the center of it all, she basked in all the attention, she was a sweet and funny girl, loud as always and although I thought she went a little too far she was the girl I have been waiting to see for so many years.
She felt everything I wanted her to feel, she said what I hoped she would say and I am very hopeful that she has seen just how wonderful life can be when you put your mind to it. She said often that she had never known it was possible for her to be with so many people that were so kind and funny and for them to want her there, she felt so accepted and loved. She was spoiled and treated so beautifully, I took a back seat and watched her grow and love every minute of it.
She is going back, without me to spend time with Cathy ( and maybe George who is completely gorgeous and I think perfectly able to enjoy Sophie without being trampled in the process!) She has something to work for again and is very happy indeed.
We bought back a mountain of goodies, for the first time ever NONE of the bags were overweight, no charges incurred. Talking of being overweight, I am so proud to say that I pretty much stuck with the diet while I was away, I did eat 2 pretzels and shared a started with Cathy 2 nights, I ate salads, lean meat with no potatoes or carbs, I ate fruit and had slimfast for breakfast, I bought small snacks like mixed nuts at the airport....I did well, until today, can you believe it? Sticking with it all that time and then coming home and eating everything I try to avoid...I have eaten more bread today that I have for months. I have been shopping and now have veggies etc to make soup tomorrow. Onward and head up etc etc...... I will be weighed on Tuesday so that'll be interesting. I was miserable to see all the pictures that still show how much more work I have to do, I think I was kidding myself that I had made a huge difference in the months since my last trip to Boston but really, it's hard to see any change at all in the pictures...disheartening but also inspiring, must keep on keeping on!
I will try and write more tomorrow, so much to say but jet lag is kicking my head in and my poor weary brain is too worn out to think or make my fingers work.
I was so going to stay awake and will H warm and safe but these gitlets will be up in 5 hours, ready for another day and cross that daddy and grandpa aren't here! I hope terminal 3 isn't locked for the night and that H has found a comfy chair in a warm spot somewhere, my bed is as warm and comfy as can be, I am off to enjoy it!

Phew that was lucky!

Emma tagged me ( I would link to her blog but she's private and unshowyoffy, unlike me, I am a tart for readers, show me some love!) Great to be tagged sometimes, especially when you are all out of blog fodder.
The thing is, I am supposed to print the 4th picture in my 4th album and talk about it...wouldn't you know MY luck...want to see what the picture is? Sure you do.



Wow....that's a great shot isn't it? What a dull picture. Amazing that it has me in tears isn't it? No idea what has got into me this week but the darndest things are making me cry. This picture is the view from our room at the barn, before we moved in. I stood in that doorway and took that picture and I simply could not believe that we were about to live there.
We moved out over a year ago, I still drive past it, often, I still long to drive into the crunchy gravel driveway and shut the gates behind me and shut out the world.
I want to park right here...



and I want to run up the stairs and see this....



and this...



The barn was so posh, it was a dream home and I loved it there, not because it was posh but because for the first time in 18 years I felt safe. I slept every night, all night. I woke up happy, I loved coming home.
We had so many people over in the short time we live there. Our doors were always open and so many people came and ate with us, played in the garden, we had water days, bar-b-qs, birthday parties.
I would stand and look out of the window for the longest time because I loved what I saw.
The barn smelled so good, all that beautiful oak wood, I don't think I will ever forget anything about that house.
It is still unsold, we could still be there if the landlady from Hell hadn't pushed and shoved and sent us to the house of filth and stink.
The price is coming down because nothing is selling lately.....£329.000 now, £50,000 off the original asking price. Sometimes I make lists of what I would do 'if' you know, if dreams came true....and that house is always at the very top. Not a mansion, not a huge rambling house in acres of land...that one. I long for how that house made me feel.
Watching the boys running out in the 'wilderness,' all that freedom whilst so safe behind those 10 foot solid gates.


If that were ours, we would plant fruit trees, clear all the land and have it all available to play in, grow food, I would have a summer house for reading in, taking naps, painting. Right at the bottom left corner, away from the world.

I am pretty sure that this ridiculous rushing around and 'going' places would stop, I wouldn't need to go, because I would be home. I am so tired of feeling at a loose end.
People say that money can't buy happiness, but sometimes, I think it can. I do know that H and I consider ourselves blessed in that the only thing we DON'T have, is money. I mean that, I really do. There is nothing else I hanker after other than a home, in fact this home.
I am sure that somewhere, there are other homes that I would love as much, of course there are. It's the feeling I had in this one though that I crave. I have never felt that way, not since I was a little girl and was safe because I was with my mum and dad and had no worries.
I loved one other home, one in Wiltshire, when I was married to the first one.....I loved that home and loved cleaning it, making it beautiful, coming home to it, then the first one left, ruined it all, the boys were snatched from outside that house and my hell began. That was 18 years ago and from that day I have never felt safe since. Apart from that 8 weeks.
I loved the house in the town too, enjoyed making that home, I can't say we were happy there because so much anger was there, so much tribulation and stress. I walk past that house often and feel kindly towards it, but don't wish myself back there.
I wonder what it is about some walls that make a place home. Funny how different homes make different people feel as though they belong there isn't it? So many different abodes and each one has a family meant to belong in it.
I often walk into other peoples' homes and feel as though I belong. You can feel the spirit in it, feel the peace and comfort. I love that. I miss it for me though, I just can't seem to get it here. Actually things are improving here, little touches are making the difference, spirits are lifting.

So, Emma....look what you did! I'm glad you came to the barn and know what I am talking about..it's one great house isn't it?
Kind of makes a person feel like this...