One. More. Sleep.

And we're almost ready.
Much busy-ness, much yelling ( me) laughing and ignoring yelling ( everyone else)
Am excited for it to be tomorrow, more excited for it to be wednesday when the keys to this house will be on their way to Bridgette will she give us our deposit back when she sees how clean and shiny her stinky house is even though she says she is keeping our money and didn't care that we had to shovel dried on pooh and furry vomit when she gave us the keys landlady. Hooray.
I had to drag myself away from my new kitchen with it's rug and pretty things, it's brightness and many cupboards, I stood and looked and then looked again and had to tell myself that tomorrow I will live there.
I wish I could explain how it feels to walk around the house, with the soft, clean carpets, with the cosy feel and the honest to goodness homeliness of it all. I wish I could but I can't because as soon as I start to try and think hard enough about it, my head turns to flub, within seconds I am a fer....de..buh........awwwwwww.......um........lovely.
That's it, it's lovely. That's enough isn't it? Lovely.
Thankyou Lord.

Awwwwww NUTS!

If it's not one kid, it's another. Being a mum never stops, even when they are 6' 5", have their own home and are about to be a daddy. I was particularly wakeful, still up and emailing with Cathy at 2am! Then my cell started to ring! For heavens sake, I knew it was Sophie....answered to hear Jordan sobbing on the other end, really crying and saying over and over " Oh MUM! Oh mum!"
My heart sank and immediately I was worried about Mel and the baby ( always such a light and cheery soul, thinking the very worst at every opportunity!)
Then he said " Oh mum, I have the worst pain, really bad pain, please help me!"
I asked him where it hurt and told me " My balls, oh my balls, mum and my belly, please help me!"
Off I went and picked him up, to see that lanky streak of water, walking like John Wayne after an Epic cross mountain horse trek made my mother's heart ache and my mean mouth laugh....quite a bit.
He got in and couldn't sit or bend his legs..picture that if you will, he had to bend his legs because, you know.....half his height are those long legs of his!
It took us 15 minutes to get to the hospital and when we got there he hobbled his way to the reception and said " My balls REALLY HURT! Oh and my name is Jordan *******" I taught him so well, manners and decorum even in times of pain and fear.
HE went off with the Dr and Mel and I sat in the revolting and shameful NHS waiting room.
I was horrified to see that waiting room ( that was actually empty apart from us) it is being remodelled but that is no excuse for how filthy it was. Appalling and as I said shameful.
We made the best of it and had a picnic from the machines and Mel's handbag, she may have been in a hurry and worried about the possibility of future children with her most beloved but she had time to collect crisps, magazines and a baby name book! That's my girl!
We chatted about how she thought the middle of the night will be best to go into labour ( no traffic, marvellous) read every name in the magazine and laughed about the drunken youth brought in by 4 policemen.
Just 18 ( Mel knows him) face smashed up, clothes torn, only one shoe, grimy black socks and drunk as a skunk. The policemen left him and within seconds he slumped over, lifted his legs and head in a puddle of cold minestrone soup ( we hope, empty sup was beside it and some napkins next to it) and he slept. He looked the picture of what is wrong with this generations youth/ country / world....he lifted one arm across his bloody face and we saw that he had his surname tattooed on his inner forearm. Never have I seen a name so ill fitting. It could have been what he wishes he was but sadly, isn't.
Mel told me it is his surname and it was lucky that he was so passed out because, as we were so tired ( 4am at this point) we became very loud and hopelessly silly as we made up captions to go with the photo we SO wanted to take and post on my blog. We'd say his surname and then snort as we said " or NOT" or perhaps " AS IF!"
His surname ......NOBLE.
We didn't take a picture, though we could have as he was so drunk he would never have known and there wasn't a soul about, I just managed to grasp that little bit of human kindness and stop myself because surely that would have been against some kind of human rights or something.
I think I am almost saint like in my reserve because this example of what is wrong with Britain today has some kind of grudge against Jordan and apparently, whenever he is out on the town and drunk ( most days) he feels that his 5' 4" scrawny frame is a good match for the splendid boy I gave birth to.
Apparently he taunts Jordan and picks fights with him every single time, in fact even when he is sober, but in his flat which overlooks the road Jordan takes to work, he will jeer and shout unbecoming names.
Jordan came out to tell us what was happening, saw this kid lying flat out in the waiting room, looked down and said " Very good" and walked on by.
Anyway, at 5.30am when Jordan's twisted and painful testicle had miraculously just untwisted itself, I left because I was very giddy, thinking how miserable I was going to be when I had to get out of bed at 7.30am and Jordan had to wait for a surgeon to get out of the operating room. At 6am Jordan and Mel got weary of waiting and he was allowed to go home, he has to check in with his GP and get checked out and if the pain starts again he has to go right back in, it's very unusual for this to just correct itself. So we'll see.
This morning I went and paid the last £670.50 and the house is ours, we took H's woodworking stuff over and walked around feeling happy, ate lunch and I went for a nap because I was ready to rip some heads off and cry like a weary toddler.
H has done a mountain of packing while I slept and I feel as though we might actually get this done.
Hoorah.

Second verse.....

Ha! You had that sinking feeling, didn't you? That 'oh no, she's going to say " same as the first" feeling'. I could but, well. BORING.
So, I shall tell you about how beautiful my new home ( not house, oh no, home thankyouverymuch) smells. Not even a whiff of acrid damp smell, not a hint of stink.
Now anyway.
H and I got the keys today and we scrubbed and shampooed, we washed and soaked. Lovely and beautiful and citrusy, fresh and lung fillingly emotional.
I am emotional ( could you tell?) I am relieved and have that feeling that comes when you are 10 steps away from the end of a marathon ( I imagine, as if I would know, really, what that feels like. At school I was always picked to run the 800 metres race, purely so that everyone else would know for sure that they wouldn't be the last to cross the finishing line.) I can see that I am this -> <- close to being at the end of this horrible experience but my legs hurt ( for real, actually not just hypothetically) and my lungs are bursting and OH IF ONLY I could just not have to do this last bit. If I could sneak away and come back on monday night to see all my things in that new house and sigh.
I went back to the house this evening, all alone and I can't tell you ( but you know I'll have a damn good try) just how peaceful I felt. The carpets are the most splendid of quality, the ones here are the cheapest, thinnest, no underlay crap. When you walk, it feels as though you are thumping along on concrete. The new house? I can't wait to walk on them in my bare feet. H shampooed them today ( the carpets, not my feet) lovely clean kirby shampoo smell, beautiful, clean bright carpets. Old fashioned and especially the front room one, sort of ugly but give me good quality ugly over cheap plain, crud any day.
The new home had a very faint smell to it, only a bit of empty, dusty unloved smell, not the dogshit, vomit, damp stench of this one. No oozing black or fur, not even when I looked ( and you know I did!)
Not the unrealistic grandness of the barn ( I will always be happy about having lived there for those 8 weeks, I felt like a posh gal for a while and as though I was someone else, truth be told I think I have delusions of grandeur, I felt more at home in the barn than anywhere else, although I knew it couldn't last) This is home. with all the possibilities of home, of settling ( oh please) with the little things that will annoy and the marvellous things that will wrap me around and make me feel secure.
I can imagine people just dropping by, I have dreaded people coming here, really hated it, I don't like being here myself, why would I expect anyone else to suffer it?
The barn was the other extreme, we entertained the whole time we were there, wonderful ( and unrealistic!)
Now we can just be. We can breathe ( clean fresh air...such a treat) we can relax, we can enjoy and we can share.
We are walking distance to everyone and everything.
Happy.
Sophie? Well, she's Sophie. She has been a bear today but she is worried. There are things I can do, more that I can't. I can't be ill anymore. I know it isn't going to be as simple as saying ' stop being ill' but I want to believe that I can change something.
It is time. Yikes.

Just as it seemed I had it in the bag!

Bad morning, dreadful morning even.
Isaac is having a hard time about the move, he can't go to sleep, can't wake up, can't stop telling me what he likes about this house. ( count to 10, 10 times, an hour) I understand, I really do, it's tough on all of us and for him, this is just horrendous.
I forget sometimes that he thinks very literally, I forget a lot of things lately. On friday, after meltdown 647, he said " I don't feel well, can I stay home from school tomorrow?"
" Why yes," I said " In fact, you can stay home for TWO days" ( ha ha, clever me!)
" Two days? I can stay home for two days? "
I convinced him I meant it and he was happy, even when he realised that it was friday and what a hoot! No school anyway.
Until this morning, because I lied, I said he could stay home for two days, I didn't say he could stay away from school for 2 days, I said he could stay home, and yesterday he went to church.
Oh. Bugger.
He might only weigh 46 lbs, he may only be 6, he might only come up to my chest but this kid is stubborn. He means it when he sticks to something that he is promised.
He wouldn't get dressed ( What do you MEAN he wouldn't ?? He's SIX ...MAKE HIM!) he is incredibly strong and he stood, arms gripped so tightly by his sides, head seized in one position, legs locked at the knee. He wouldn't eat, he needs food, if he is hungry he is awful, as bad as his daddy. He wouldn't drink. Just stood, staring and saying over and over and over " you said two days, you said I could stay home two days, I went to church, that is not staying home I am staying home two days, today is the two days"
( count, woman count, your head won't really explode, count..1.2.3.4.5.5. what comes after 5? dear Lord,please help me not throw him out the window!!! )
Eventually and only just in time but actually a bit late because there are roadworks and we are going to be late and if we get there and the gates are already open the SKY WILL FALL DOWN BECAUSE THE GATE IS OPEN AND WE HAVE TO GET THERE BEFORE THE GATE OPENS! Open the car door, ack Isaac's door won't open, seat belt is caught in door, won't open and won't shut and " ISAAC, kick the door from the inside! KICK it, as hard as you are mad, give it hell boy, just kick it open!"
"no"
Seth kicked it, I wish I could have kicked it, preferably with someones head in between but Seth did it, hoorah, is open, get in QUICK!
Nothing. Dead car. Not even a Click. not even a click.
Trying to be like Jesus or not, that deserved a swear and it got one, bloody arsehole piece of crap, so much for bargain freecycle my arse.....damn thing.
Isaac is HAPPY! This is fun! This means the BUS.....what could possibly be miserable about a bus ride on monday morning? Who wants to stay at home when you can go to school on a BUS?
£72. Battery. Not the alternator, thankfully, the battery has been a bit pathetic from day one and when lovely man from the RAC arrived ( yeay for £18 a month for breakdown coverage that includes at home start, clever me) he took great care to show me the numbers, 1.2 V after he charged it...LOOK when you open the door it goes down! Tut, look what happens when you turn the radio on..but never fear the alternator is charging it so that's good, just replace the battery, they'll fit it at Halfords for you lovey, you got one just down the road there, they'll see you alright"
Went to Halfords. Left car running ( am quite knowledgeable about these things, old crapheap car taught me stuff) ran in and enquired about battery and would they fit it? Young man came out with me and checked the battery, " no problem, you can turn it off now, we'll fit one of those no problem" You know what's coming don't you? Yes, he COULD fit one, no problem, IF THEY HAD ONE, which they didn't.
Kwik Fit did, and they fitted it relatively Kwikly too. £72.
Why this week? WHY THIS WEEK? Next week, I would have had the money, next week we wouldn't need the car. This week I thought I just about had the £1470.50 we have to hand over to the agency for the new house.
Now we don't. Despite eating the most revolting concoctions from the freezer, despite freezing and turning off the heating every chance we get to save on gas, despite....oh all of it. Still need a bit more. If you're tired of hearing about it, I am truly tired of thinking about it.
The tenancy agreement arrived this morning, which made me happy because it really means that we have the house, our names all officially typed on it and all. Also typed is that figure £1470.50. SO much money, worth it ( apart from the darned fees, £70.50 for the tenancy agreement, tell me how those 5 pages are worth £70.50. £141 for the search fees. What did they search? I gave them copies of all our income, they didn't get a reference from money keeping landlady who does no repairs......ptttttttttth) I shan't mind a jot NEXT week when we are in the house and can breathe a sigh of relief, this week though, it's all a bit much for me.
More boxes packed though, freezer is all cleared and kitchen is 1/3 done.

When I collected Isaac from school, I saw he had a sticker and commented on how he must have been a bit nicer at school than he had been at home in order to earn a sticker, he got it because he got 100 out of 100 in his RM math today. Clever boy! He was delightful this evening, he is having trouble going to bed and he needs his sleep as much as he needs to eat at the right times. He's having a really rough time of it lately. I hope I can be more understanding tomorrow.
Sometimes it's just hard to remember how hard this is for him.

Superwoman, indeed.

Well, where did THAT come from? I am a jittering, weak bowelled wreck today. We are moving in a week, I have done so little that I suddenly feel as though it is all beyond me. I know we'll do it. Of course, we always do don't we? I just can't quite think where to start. When I walk through the house taking it all in ( and I HAVE done that a lot...oooh look, that won't take long to pack, but don't do it etc) There actually is very little that can be done. This week ( when else?!) I must get some boxes for the kitchen stuff, that's the big deal, the kitchen and all that STUFF. Food and pans and plates, stuff and more stuff and we will be taking it all , I am very done with throwing things away and giving things away, I have to give away ( or sell, please) a beautiful leather sofa that makes me happy to just look at, but it will not fit, not even if I cry about it or cross my fingers, it won't. It has to go. I keep telling myself that it's a small price to pay, it's a sofa. Just a sofa. It's just that we have had to keep dumping things and freecycling, giving away and selling and it's like my soul is being chipped away.
I work hard on making my home beautiful, we don't have tons of money and so I have to weedle and watch, search and save and when I do it , when I secure a 'find', bring home that hard worked for piece of home, it is a part of me and I am so happy to have it. Then we move, start again and I have to leave a little bit of me behind. Such nonsense when I read back what I am writing.
9 times in 8 years, this is the 10th. Hell.
I do keep getting a thrill at the idea that it IS only a week. Just one more week, new beginnings and all that jazz. When it's done this time, ( please Lord) it is done, I am absolutely unpacking EVERYTHING this time, books in bookcases, videos and toys, clothes and all the trappings of home, unpacked, getting a place to live. I almost can't wait, we just have to get through that one day, that one hard day of lifting and loading, driving and unloading. Just that one day.
The new house is on a street that is going to be difficult to get a big van outside of, all those little things that I know we will manage, will be able to sort out but are crowding down on me in a stupidly claustrophobic way and making me want to howl and run, far away, just until the 29th when it will be over and done and I can drive home and it be there, finished and organised. Then I can play and froo froo, fluff it up and make it beautiful and smell good ( oh to have a home that smells good again!)
Just get me through this one last week. Please.
Thank goodness for the Eli boy being full time at school, what a difference it all makes when we have 8 clear hours to get things done. I bet if I put my mind to it, I can do the kitchen tomorrow. It's not as if I plan on cooking much this week, cooking whatever is in the freezer, throw it on a plate and don't anyone dare complain week, that's what we're in for. So nothing stopping me packing most of it all up tomorrow. Is there? Ha.
I am torn between moving all our stuff out and walking away, you know, what the hell don't owe her etc and moving all our stuff out and then just cleaning enough that it looks nice and I leave being the bigger person. Honestly 50/50 on this, my head says " hells teeth woman what are you thinking? Leave it to her to clean", my heart says " you have never yet been able to leave a mess, why start now, let her see that you have pride and integrity"
Will have to let you know what decision I make in the end because I think it will be one of those on the day decisions. I do know that oven cleaner will not enter into the mix, neither will carpet cleaner, we did that 4 times over when we moved in, that's more than any house or landlady deserves! Just a vacuum and floor mop and whatever cleaning fluid we have to hand, I suspect I shall have a quick whip around and leave it looking acceptable.
Blogs are marvellous things, I was so despondent when I started this post and look, have talked myself round until I am sure it can be done and am once again convinced that I am superwoman. Yes, indeed.
Oh and just when you think it is all hopeless.......clean out your handbag, because you just might find 2 cadbury's cream eggs in there that you can't even quite remember buying. Suddenly life is looking up.

More for my benefit than entertainment, maybe!

Whenever I lie in a hot bath, I find myself having such thoughts that make me almost hurry and get out because MUST BLOG..must remember that and write it down so in 3 years time I can look back and remember and laugh ( or cry) then, by the time I have finished my ablutions, dried my tired but clean and refreshed body and put some comfy PJs and soft slippers on, I have forgotten what was so intruiging, so hysterically funny, so unbelievably important that I must document it for posterity. Not surprising because if I forget in btween legs to shave the second one,when all I have to do is lather up and rinse the razor, well, of course I'm going to blank out and blink hard in an effort to remember after 25 minutes of activity aren't I?
Today though, I was thinking about how I must sound so whiny about the endless ' must find the money' situations we are always in. ( Blimey, in a totally different train of thought, it's raining so hard I just had to turn the TV up! Better move the sofa over there while I'm at it......it'll be rained on in about 3 minutes)
So, whilst soaking away my cares just now I was thinking about the ways we are saving money to try and gather together the shortfall for the newest move. Typically, because this is so boring for anyone else but will be one of those " Oooh listen H! Remember when we did THIS?" moments in our lives ( for me, because H? When I do that in 3 years times he will nod and smile while trying not to let me see that he has his ear phones in and his iPod on and cannot hear a single word I am saying) Anyway, typically etc etc I can remember that I wanted to write this down, so here we go.
We have a card for our gas, every week we put on as much as we need and plug it in....instant warmth and hot water and no bills, marvellous, bugger if you forget and it runs out and then you have to dash out and finda garage that is open at night ( which never happens because I am organised and remember these things because every THURSDAY we must do that!)
Right now H and I only have the heating on when the boys are at home and awake, when they go to school, we wear jumpers and use blankets, when they go to bed and when they are fast asleep and toasty, we use hot water bottles and blankets and I use him when I go to bed and his side is warm and my side is hurty and cold.
We are ( again) eating what we have in the cupboards and freezer ( unless I go out with Jane and we see lime and hinger fish goujons for £1 a pack and MUST EAT THEM, which we did and YUM.) I am making £5 a day feed all of us every day and even feeding other people sometimes ( but not often)
My lovely free car is saving us a fortune, when the old one gave up the ghost it was doing 23 miles for every £10 petrol I put in it. OUCH.
The new little, zippy number that turns on a sixpence and even sings to me while I drive, ( still not over the joy of RADIO, while I drive MUSIC.....marvellous) anyway, new one, this week did 86 miles on £10 of petrol HOW FABULOUS IS THAT?? It has no clock though, which drives me batty.
I hope that tomorrow I hear that I have sold the trampoline, that would knock £100 off that lump I can't yet find.
I gave away some stuff on freecycle this weekend so the reading / dog pooh room is pretty clear so we can start putting boxes and cases in there as we pack them. I did a run to the tip and cleared a bit more space.
I had a letter from Landlady saying that she had spoken with the council and they had told her that indeed she should have invested that money and should make attempts to do so immediately.She said that she would invest ourmoney immediately ( for 2 weeks???)
I'm not sure how to feel about that, the fact that she spoke with the council worries me as that would be the very place that she could cause trouble for us.
I let go of the anger I felt when we were told that we couldn't take action against her in case she caused trouble for us for a stupid mistake I made.
I realised that she can keep £750 and then we are free of her and this house, troubles over. Her troubles are going nowhere, she has several houses that are not selling, can't be rented because they need repairs she can't afford. Most of her actions are done out of fear and ignorance, she is sinking and the £750 she can keep that belongs to us, won't even begin to help her out.
I am sure we will find what we need somehow and then we will be fine, we start again and we have what we have sought all along.
I drafted a letter to her that I will probably send tomorrow, I want her to have written notice that we are moving because the letter she wrote sounds as though she doesn't think we are actually going. She didn't give us a reference and I suspect she thinks that has stopped us being able to go. She has no idea that her word isn't of any value anyway as her reputation preceds her, especially with the agency that we are working with on the new house, our reputation however is in good stead.

This is the letter, I would appreciate your views..unless you read this mid week when it will be too late!

Dear Landlady,
Thankyou for writing and explaining about the deposit, after our conversation last week I was left feeling frustrated and somewhat disappointed.I know pretty much what is 'within our rights' and also what legally, you are entitled to do.
Due to experiences in the past, I have made it my business to know exactly where I stand and have been accused of being a little TOO obsessive about documenting and taking pictures, making sure that I won't get walked all over. I do do my homework and usually have a good knowledge of where I stand.
Since we first became your tenants, up until quite recently, I felt that we had a mutual trust and respect, both helping each other out and trying to do what is good and right. Moving to this house changed a lot of those feelings.
This house has been a bad one to live in, the appalling condition when we took it over, the sheer volume of work and expense ( and I DO appreciate that you did compensate us for our expenses, that has been the only thing that kept me from completely losing it while cleaning and heaving my way through the filth.)
Moving is incredibly stressful, horribly expensive with all the hidden expenses, cable vs freeview, BT vs cable, deposits, money up front ( that calor gas was a killer for example) vans, petrol, cleaning stuff.
This house has so many extra costs, the new toilet seat, replacing the sink ( while the sink was free the new tap, pipes, sealant etc weren't ), putting on padlocks and repairing the door and window after the attempted break in too, the list seems endless.
To move from the Barn after only EIGHT weeks was unbelievable, I was so tempted to just put my foot down and say no, but I didn't. I retracted my instructions to the estate agents and once again we put aside what would have been better for us and accomodated your wishes.

In lovely town house that we first rented, when we had every one and his aunt telling us to sit tight, force an eviction, go through the courts, we refused, I even went as far as seeing a solicitor to prevent having to put you and the new owners through that.

We were very grateful to move to the barn, we hired expensive equipment to get through that paddock and make it wonderful, we put in hours of work getting it looking lovely and we enjoyed our time there,we cleaned, we dusted and washed, we fixed the gates, we did everything we could to keep it nice. We didn't complain about the broken shower, the broken dishwasher, the fridge door that kept falling off, we just fixed what we could and forgot about the things we couldn't. We believed you when you said you would refund us the £160 for the gas in the tank, we were disappointed to hear that you wouldn't do that because 'you aren't using it ', neither are we, we don't have access to it, we have no way of making up that money.
We tried to let that go, but when we are living here, with the smell of damp, with the rain coming in the front room, having to move the sofa into the middle of the room to avoid being rained on, being magnaminous is very tough. That was the turning point, that was what made me decide that it was time to do what is best for my family.
The floor in the bathroom in this house is so much more than an inconvenience, it is dangerous, the whole floor gives when we walk into the bathroom and now the landing floor is 'bouncing' too. The smell is intolerable to me, the wood is completely rotten.
Whilst we have infinite sympathy for your plight, with empty houses and the terrible housing market ect, it really isn't our problem, we have tried so hard to be patient and understanding, not be whiners and endlessly trouble you to repair and make good.
We asked in September and again in October about the floor, when you said that you simply couldn't afford the repairs we understood and decided that the only thing we could do was move, find a house that we could hope to stay in longer than 6-12 months, that was safe and affordable for us. £750 is more than we can afford, we are given £612 a month, having to find that extra £138 every month, from benefits, for a house that has made me physically ill and the rest of us just plain miserable is just unacceptable to me. You aren't able to work with us on that and so we feel we have no choice but to leave.
So, we have found a house, perfect for us, back in the town and in our price range, parking and outside play space for the boys. We are moving on January 28th, we are happy to be able to do this and look forward to being able to settle and get our family back into a routine and contented again.
I understand that legally, you are entitled to keep £750 of our deposit, I accept that, whilst the idea that you WILL withold that money disappoints me and for a while made me furious and indignant, I now feel that to allow myself to continue to feel such anger and resentment does nothing but harm me and cause feelings of contention that I can well live without.
So, I leave the ball in your court, I do trust that you will take into consideration what is right, as well as legal. I am saddened that what used to be a mutually helpful and friendly aquaintance seems to have fallen to unhappy levels of 'what I am entitled to,' incredibly unhealthy and certainly unhappy for all of us. You can decide what steps to take next.
When we leave, I will mail a key to you and leave the rest in the house, we will leave the house relatively clean and tidy ( though don't bank on a gleaming cooker again, that stove is beyond cleaning.....even so, it is 300 times better than when we moved here! ) Although the tenacy agreement says we should leave the house in the state in which we found it, allowing for wear and tear, in all conscience I couldn't do that to another human being. ( sometimes sticking rigidly to a signed agreement isn't always called for and is, in fact a beneficial thing)
I cried every day for 5 weeks over having to move into this house, I would never expect anyone else to feel that badly.
I will contact you when we are settled in our new home, until then, after the 28th if you can contact me via mum's address that I sent you before we went away ( nice new house that makes her happy).
I hope you manage to sell / rent your houses soon, I do understand how worrying the situation must be for you. If you decide to re-rent this one I suggest you really get it repaired and made safe before any new tenants move in, it would be foolhardy to expect anyone else to be understanding under such circumstances.
So, unless we speak before then we will be out of stinking misery house on the 28th January, Yours sincerely . Helen.


I do know that it should say faithfully but I don't have faith in her and I am being incredibly sincere, so there. Also I replaced address and names with flippant comments, the original letter is more formal ( although, how I would love to write 'stinking misery house')
2 weeks, that's all until we leave this house for pastures new ( again) I feel calm and happy about it and because I just couldn't in my heart, accept that we would have to stay here, there is little packing to do because it's all still packed!
I am either numb to all this stress and suposition OR I have learned that we need just enough worry to get us moving, get the thingsthat need to be done, accomplished and no more. Worrying and wringing ofhands gets us nowhere, I can either worry until my skin falls off, or I can get on with things and sleep well ( oh glorious Nytol, my new and faithful friend) I can suppose and wonder and fret or I can Not. Think. At. All. Lovely, not thinking. I recommend it to everyone.
Do what you can, shut the door on it and see what happens. All that wisdom and only 45. I wish I could tell you some of the stuff that has led me to such blase acceptance ( and in fairness I have told most of it but some of it? Gosh darn it all, can't write it here......but ha! How liberal and laid back I am these days)
So, new week, with my littlest boy staying at school all day tomorrow .8.40am until 3.30pm.Long day for a little chap who still sucks his thumb, pees himself when very busy ( oh, never mind, it don't matter) and who falls asleep if he sits still any time after 1pm. He really IS still such a baby to me. I keep thinking about what needs to be done and saying, to myself, " Ha! I shall do that on monday /tuesday/wednesday/ thursday / friday when the boys are at school" H and I are giddy with the idea of what we can achieve, but also ( don't tell anyone) there has been a lot of talk like " when I was at the job center last week" and " When I went to such and such a place and asked about teaching in this country"
and then ( from me) " Where? Sorry? Who? When...did you? Pardon?" That sort of talk. Yes. Me too. Bloody hell. ( oh dear, was definitely going to work on my swearing and language etc but then, well bloody hell!)
So, all kinds of things going on. Indeed.

Not always the way it seems.

So, the great news is that we have the house, pretty much for certain. Sally the lovely agent was good to her word and she called to say that all our paperwork came back great and as long as the landlord hasn't changed his mind, it's ours 28th Jan, just over 2 weeks. New home.

The less great news is that because I didn't listen to my mum ( and you know we should unless they are stupid and not real mums) we made one mistake that has pretty much ensured we can't sue the slumlord, I mean landlady. She wins. For about 3 seconds.
We will lose that £750, which means we are about £400 down on the money we need to move into the new house. I think I may have sold the trampoline which brings it down by £100.
We will have to struggle and worry and be a bit poor for about a month. Then we are done. New house, new HOME, new start, new landlord, new beginnings.
We will have a clear heart and a fresh page.
Landlady will have £750 of our money, just once more. Then? Well then she has another empty home, another unpaid mortgage. Another house that no-one will want because she hasn't taken care of it.
I felt unmentionable rage for about 15 minutes when I discovered that if we proceed with court action, it will mean as much trouble and misery for us, as her. Life sometimes just isn't fair and for that short time I honestly could have pummeled her face if I had been anywhere near it.
Then, well something took over. Upbringing. Teachings and examples and lessons about integrity. About how money is great as long as it lasts and as long as it is used to the good. As long as it has it's place and doesn't become too high on your list of important things, money is just great.
What money isn't worth is losing your good name, your self esteem or your dignity.
The feelings of resentment and anger were making me miserable, now I feel better.
Landlady is much more worried than I am. She has lost more than I have. She has less than I have. She has, because of greed, slid into a huge hole and every time she scrabbles to get out, more dirt falls on her. She is grabbing at people to try and stay above ground and momentarily she hurts us as her nails dig in..then she falls a bit further and she has to let go. Until she learns that to get on in life you have to treat people well, you have to have integrity.
When we are in our new home, paying less rent, saving money on utilities and petrol, when we are back in the very area that made us feel so safe and content, she will be worrying about how she will cover the costs of another empty home, another house that she owns that is rotting and losing value.
In the summer when we are enjoying the sunshine and our new life, she will watching several gardens become overgrown and more unmanageable.
She is not to be envied, not at all, for the price of £750 she lost another family that could have helped her.
All my life I have been taught about forgiveness, about letting go of resentment and how important that is. Today I learned it for myself because I really DID let go. I stopped caring about what will happen to her, what I can do to make her sorry, how I can make her pay for all she has put me through. It feels great, like getting out into the fresh air after being stuck in a stuffy room.
The whole time I was angry at her...she didn't know, it wasn't hurting her at all. It was eating ME up inside.
Also I learned that we have responsibility here too. We should have said No.
No to leaving the barn.
Absolutely NO to living here.
NO to doing repairs ourselves.
NO to cleaning other peoples' mess.
No to ANYTHING that wasn't signed, sealed and above board.
Just stick with the tenancy agreement, do what it says on the paper and say NO to anything else. If it seems too good to be true, it probably is.

Stuff and nonsense.

As I was running here and there today I was thinking a whole headload of random thoughts, as a special treat I thought I would share some of them with you ( if I can remember them)

It would seem that the holiday has cured my insomnia, and then some. Since we got back I have slept, on average NINE hours a night, like a regular person, if it weren't for school and church I think I would wake up around 11am. No kidding my body seems to have rediscovered sleep and it LIKES it. I noticed that when we were away my head and body was willing to stop, every night at an unheard of hour ( 8pm one night EIGHT O'CLOCK???) also, when you're away and you don't have all the comforts and conveniences of home, what can you do at 2am? No laptop ( H had his but none of my favourites were on it so no blogs and what not) I couldn't watch too much TV because I couldn't work the Telly and had no idea what channels were available, so may as well curl up in bed and read a good bo..........zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
Every night! I think I broke my habit of staying up most of the night and then still waking up at 7am.
H has to wake me in the mornings, he is such a gentle man. If I wake somebody up I turn on the light and say "WAKEY WAKEY! " Mean cow.
H creeps in and kneels next to me and just strokes my arm while whispering the time. What is his reward for such gentleness? A big old gobfull of rancid morning breath as I sigh "OH NO...PLEASE not yet." I get up and as I make the bed I promise it that I will be back, as soon as the boys are at school, I'll be back because I'm not finished yet. Of course I take the boys to school and then I have to go somewhere or do something and then I come back here and there is always something to do ( although scrubbing and cleaning and getting the house ready to hand back? NOT A BIT OF IT! In fact I cooked the boys oven chips tonight for dinner and didn't put foil under them, just out them on a pizza tray and let those babies drip all over the stove because I DON'T HAVE TO CLEAN IT! If I cooked chips and baked every day until we leave that cooker is still going to be 37 times cleaner than when we moved in, I wept at that stove for 5 days while I scrubbed and scraped and steamed and soaked.
My tenancy ( which landlady is insistent we must stick to) quite clearly states that we must hand back the property in the same state in which we received it, allowing for normal wear and tear of course.
I will do my best.
I just called my brother in law and told him that should he need any lovely crunchy gravel we have £120 worth right outside our house, he is a landscape gardener, he is welcome to it. I will be so happy to give it away but not leave it here.
We have to sell the trampoline, which makes me a bit sad but if I can sell it in the next week or two that will help towards the £400 we are short on the deposit ( because greedy and stupid landlady is keeping ours, but not for ever, oh no, we will get it back and a lot more)
I plan on taking up the lovely lino in the bathroom and baring the rotting floor, for 2 reasons, the lino is mine and I doubt very much if she will fork out money to replace it, let that floor be visible so that any buyers or, heaven forbid, renters come along they will see what they are taking on.
It is terribly difficult NOT to be malicious, I could so easily really make life hard and the wicked and unchristian part of me REALLY wants to drop something heavy in the beautiful new white sink we put in the bathroom, or just take it with us and leave the old one sitting unplumbed on the bathroom floor. I want to do all manner of mean and spiteful things but the gracious and christian part of me knows that all that would do is bring me down to her level, it would make me a lesser person and actually, wouldn't even bother her too much because she just doesn't care, she'd just paint over it, cover it up and pass it onto some other unsuspecting dimwit. There are so many of us around.
I would love to carry out my furniture and leave dirty floors but I know that he pride instilled in me and the integrity passed down to me will win through and I will allow myself to walk away from here with my head held high ( and a stack of pictures to prove how marvellous I am and how lowdown and stupid landlady is) I am not cleaning that bloody oven though. No, I am not.

I went into the agency today and asked how things are going, Landlady isn't providing a reference ( what a surprise, I imagine she thinks that that will scupper our chances and we will be stuck here handing over £750 a month, not even if I have to find a caravan to stay in!!)
The agency said that they have called the referencing people and told them that THEY will be our reference, that they accept us without her saying a word. Marvellous. Now I imagine they are contacting the lovely Annie, who is our guarantor and it'll be all systems go. Oh please!
Tomorrow, I am headed to the Citizens advice bureau, they are the people with all the know who will help me go through the county court procedure to sue landlady for the deposit x 3, the hassle etc. I hope that I can report some progress tomorrow.

Oh a funny, the gas company keep sending someone to check the boiler ( very important, we are glad to have this done) the thing is, they keep coming and just putting a card through the door, we have been IN the last 2 times they have been but they don't ring the bell, so we don't know they are here.
I called and got some hopeless twit on the other end, who said he couldn't help me without the reference number, the man leaving the cards just wrote 4 numbers down...not enough,not the correct number I MUST HAVE THE CORRECT NUMBER. So, I emailed because their website said I could an someone would give me an appointment, all would be fine. This is the exact email ( except I took off my address and phone numbers, I am sensible in some things, if not all)


I have had 2 cards through my door, telling me that a safety check person has been and missed me, both times I was actually at home, but for some bizarre reason your safety check person did not ring the bell, so I called your number and quoted the ref number written on the card by the non bell ringing safety check person, who, it would seem ,got bored when writing the reference number and only wrote 8500, when on the phone I was told that this was not long enough! It is WRONG...well,perhaps it is but it's the only number I have ( we have a key meter so no bills) I wonder, if I email a convenient time and my address would we get a man who rings bells and writes full numbers and is able to check that the gas boiler in my horrible rented home is safe?

We're moving out in 2 1/2 weeks, we would like to know before we go that we have been living with a boiler not liable to explode, everything else in this house is condemned,the lights turn themselves on and off, the roof leaks, the bathroom floor is falling in, yet we still have to pay £750 to live here, we would feel a little mollified if at least the boiler isn't slowly killing us. Our landlady frequently forgets things like safety checks and tenancy agreements, maybe she forgot that this gas boiler is unsafe?

My address is, Here but not for much longer HOORAH!.
Telephone, either the one in the house or the one in my handbag.


There is always someone in during the afternoon, if your safety meter man rings the bell, we will let him in and even be friendly and courteous, in fact we will be so pleased to see him we may even embarrass ourselves in our enthusiastic welcome. So, any afternoon is great, even mornings, if we KNOW you are calling, we'll wait in especially, just tell us when and what time and we will be here.
You just have to ring the bell because otherwise we won't know you are there, outside in this inclement weather and we will be forced to tut and sigh and mutter about finding another card saying you have been when WE WERE HERE!
Thankyou, in anticipation. Helen


Random thoughts.
I had a wonderful experience today. I went to the supermarket, and I remembered to hand in my prescription BEFORE I did my shopping and THEN, I remembered to collect it when I had finished, this is HUGE for me.
I'll help you understand.
I just had a lovely bath, better shave my legs.....HA! Obviously for the last 2 or 3 times I have shaved my legs I shaved the right one and then got sidetracked ( How? In the bath? in between lathering up, shaving and rinsing one leg, what could possibly happen to make me forget to do the other one? You tell me! ) so the fact that I remembered to drop off, shop, then collect the prescription is a big deal indeed!

I forget what the other thoughts were....see? Hopeless.

well, whad'ya know?

It all went hopelessly wrong! Jordan called to say that one of the chefs walked out of a sister restaurant so he had to go and fill in there, landlady called to say that 'oh dear, promised van and man were no longer available, I found an alternative van and driver....she said it was a bit pricey ( £100?!?!?) and maybe we should hire a van? " good idea, said I ...are you happy to drive it for us?" Suddenly my plan was sounding good!
Then that van fell through.......arses to it all.
2am I had the mother of all breakdowns and hissy fits, all upon my own which was such a waste because it was a splendid example of hysteria if ever I managed one. No matter, managed to have another mini one in front of mum at 9am.
H and I spent most of the day at the new house, mum had Eli ( thankyou thankyou) and Dan entertained the other 2 ( oh joy, heaven, all day being able to get things done and no fighting, bored little people, no having to stop and feed people or get drinks, just doing what we needed to do.
At 3am today I decided that I was being ridiculous, that this whole depression about the smell and the hated bathroom was something I had to get a grip on and do something about, so I did. At 8.45 I left the house I bought a large piece of beautiful, brand new linoleum. When Eli was dropped off safely and the boys were out with Dan I shut myself in that formerly detested and afeared bathroom and I transformed it, having scrubbed until I was about ready to wear through to the kitchen, I knew it was clean but that dark grey, worn lino with it's cracks and curly edges.....shudder.
I painted the walls a beautiful clean pale yellow, I cut and fitted that heavenly floor covering and I put up pictures, also a huge pine mirror. I sat ON THE FLOOR next to THE toilet, which smells lovely and is sparkly and clean and oh so ready for me to sit on and not jitter or fidget. I wept with the sheer relief at having a bathroom that is lovely to be in, with shower and clean shiny bath, and I got to do the hands on hips I am just about as bloody brilliant as it is possible to be dance. Twice.
The boys rooms are cosy and ready for mattresses to be plopped on top of bases, pictures on walls ( newly painted walls in Seth's room, thankyou H)
The little dining area is looking a bit pretty and sort of diner-ish, the kitchen is clean but sort of ( or very) disorganised, the front room ( which actually is the back room and should be called the sitting room in this house ) is ready for finishing touches. On the wall is the most enormous funky picture, all abstract and not at all my cup of tea....but the colours work in a surprising way and I find that I kind of like it.
I can't help but think of what the estate agents will think when they see it, they saw it when it was full of junk and as filthy as a house can possibly be. The landlady saw it when it was clean and had curtains up but hasn't seen it now. I want her to see it tomorrow with our furniture in and our spirit there.
I am weak with a feeling of comfort and peace.
I think the bad has gone.
There is still one room that needs some loving, we are using it as a store room and for now I can cope with just running in and getting what I need and getting out again. As we empty the room I will be more inclined to face it and rid it of whatever is making it such a miserable place.
I think I might be more muddled than usual this time, not quite sure what is where and might have to stand staring into space trying to remember what box/bag/pile things might be in more than usual ( heaven help us all!!) Only one room is crazy though, not bad going! I am looking forward to taking pictures to share though because I have been such a blasted misery about it and because it has taken so long for me to not hate it, never mind like it.......before we left tonight, I walked around on my own and almost felt excited, when I realised that I was actually barefoot and had walked right though the house ( with the exception of dogshit room, sorry to say shit, pooh is unpleasant but not nearly as unpleasant as shit and this room smells like shit ( said it 4 times, that must tell you something!) well I knew then that I had cracked through the barriers and would be able to live there and not die of misery!
I am pretty sure the smell is in my imagination but whether that is the case or not, when that room is empty that carpet is getting ripped out, then I will KNOW it is in my head. I will replace that carpet and cost be damned because I cannot stand the way the thought of what could be on it is making me insane. I don't care how many people tell me they can't smell it, I can.
So, I do believe it will be alright. For 3 months, time goes so quickly I am going to have to force myself to just enjoy a week or two before I start fretting about the next move. Just take a breather, enjoy the good bits, ignore the bad........I can do it, I can.
Pictures on thursday if we get the internet all set up and working. And if I still have strength in my fingers and can see straight and stuff.

3 sleeps.

I almost want to whisper this.
The new house looks absolutely out of this world gorgeous.
The front room anyway. I went back this evening, upon my own ( as Elijah would say) and I froofrooed. Bugger all the scrubbing and polishing, the washing, vacuuming. I have done that 'til my hair aches ( has your hair ever ached? You have to be very very tired for your hair to ache but it is possible, even if you are bald like H, incredible isn't it?) Anyway. I put down rugs ( on the already scrubbed 4 times floor) and I put up curtain poles ( YES! ME! With cordless drills and screwdrivers and swearwords like BUGGERING HELL GET IN THERE WILL YOU DAMN THING! and also other ones that I probably shouldn't mention because people from church read this) funny thing, when I was a single mother and had to do stuff that involved screwdrivers and sweat and swearing, I would cry piteously " oh, so sad that I am abandoned and unloved and have no man to do this and what did I do that was so terrible that my husband left and now I have to do all this myself and ........." that kind of whining nonsense. Now I have me a husband who can ( and does) I tend to like to do it myself because I am so clever and who needs a man when you can do it yourself? Always best that I am completely alone when I attempt these things though because I get so incredibly irritable. I talk and curse and mutter....
" look, just damn well get in there and what? What is the matter? Why? Oh please, look it's just a bloody screw, what's the problem here? " and then when it is done I am all sweetness and light and I praise myself and stand with hands on hips and say out loud things like " Damn, I am good. Would you just look at that? LOOK! Oh. Beautiful. " which is what I said about the front room because it really REALLY looks beautiful and there is barely anything in there yet. I am itching to get there on tuesday and arrange and rearrange and shoo people out and let them carry washing machines and microwaves and hurry up and bring my chairs and couch and that TV cabinet.....thankyou, put it there and leave.......awwwww beautiful room, *stroke* and *sigh*.
I had my camera and I so nearly used it except then the effect on tuesday evening would be spoiled a bit because I tell you what, I am determined that by the time I go to bed on tuesday that room will look like something out of a glossy magazine. See if I don't.
Internet will be set up on thursday which is pretty darn good, seeing as it took 5 weeks last time ( who was in charge of getting the internet sorted last time around? Hmmmmm, wonder who!) telephone too, we can even keep our same number which is a cool number and easy to remember, a good thing for me and my brain.
Isaac found a child size guitar in the loft at the house today, he has yet to be separated from it, he says when he is a teenager he is changing his name to Jerry Lee because he loves Jerry Lee Lewis, he plays " whole lot of shaking going on" on You tube all day long and we all have to yell "MY BARN" when he asks
"What barn?" He was in 7th heaven tonight because as long as no-one looked at him, he sat with guitar on lap, strumming along and actually, I think he WAS Jerry Lee Lewis all evening long. ( and unperturbed that, as Seth so kindly pointed out, Jerry Lee didn't actually play the guitar)





They have played so hard this summer that they all actually take a nap in the afternoon, Isaac says every day that he is NOT~TIRED..zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Seth reads but doesn't nap and the rest of us....heavenly snoozing. It's what makes life worth doing isn't it?
On that note, off to relax and feel smug about my new front room, that might be a parlour, or sitting room because it is Posh.

Everybody is entitled to their own opinion.

Please don't tell me yours.
It's like this. I am 45. ( I know you know, just bear with me)
When I was 16 I rented my first house with a friend. Thus began my venture into being an adult, having my own space, being a homemaker.
Since then I have lived in 1 cottage. 3 flats. 1 barn. 1 condo. 1 duplex. 1 bungalow and 12 houses.
I have lived in England, Germany and the U.S.A.
I have moved on my own, moved with husbands and no children, moved with husbands and children,moved without husbands and with children.
In pretty much every move, in fact all but once, I have been in control, arranged finances, utilities, removals, hand overs, take overs, references, the whole kit and kaboodle, I have done it all.
So, helpful though it may seem, I do not need to be told or advised on how , when, why or where.
I can work out what room to use for what purpose. I can decide where to put which piece of furniture. I know when and who to call when changing suppliers for telephone, cable, electricity.
I know whether to pack or unpack, I know what to pack and not pack, I know when to move things and when to let other people move them.
I know that the first thing you should always do is make the beds. I know that if the beds are made and clean, there is enough food for dinner and breakfast and the TV is tuned in, we are set to go and everything else will fall into place.
I KNOW ALL THAT. Thankyou.
Phew. That's better.
Everyone is so kind. I know everyone wants to help and I appreciate that but helping is taking the boys out for hours ( thankyou mum and Leah) Helping is donning rubber gloves and scrubbing stinky paintwork ( Thankyou Julie, Nathan, Jake, Amy, Claire, Asi, Melissa)
Telling me how to do stuff, well it makes my brain sort of rebel and we need to be kind to my brain, it is weary and tired and having a tough enough job remembering which house I actually live in right now.
It is working on auto pilot, kicking in and just doing it all on it's own because it is so used to doing all this stuff. When it's given directions ( especially by someone who has maybe moved twice or so) it jibbers and farts and spews out the very thing it was about to tell me to do next. I might forget my name next or, heaven forbid, to put on my trousers before I go to Asda.
This is serious people, don't mess with this brain.
Talk about the weather ( which is glorious at the moment isn't it? I love this sunshine and no rain and the breeze? From heaven itself), tell me about your day, your holiday plans, anything you like but please, please don't tell me what to do or how to do it.
I love to live in my little world where I believe I am clever and strong and HEY! Can you believe how completely brilliant and organised and capable I am?
When I'm not patting unpregnant lady's bellies and congratulating them, I am probably calling the gas company or picking up forms from the 281,726 companies that need to know where I am living this week. I'm getting it done, I promise.
When we leave here on tuesday I will miss the crunchy gravel that makes that divine noise when we walk to the laundry room that I never tired of. I will miss the wilderness and little boys going on adventures and finding frogs.
I will miss sitting here when everyone is in bed, with just a tiny light on and the window in the roof above me open, the night breeze hitting my head and arms.
I will miss the slendiferous smell of new wood as I walk in the front door and I will miss the heavy, solid oak doors even though they chop off little boys' fingers.
I will really, oh really miss the feeling of absolute safety that the massive gates and noisy gravel give me. I have never felt this safe in many, many years.
When we move into the new house I will love living right next to the shops again. I will be in heaven to have the bedrooms upstairs and the living rooms downstairs. I won't miss the sound of Eli's tiny feet that sound as if they have lead boots on and are at least 12 sizes bigger than they really are, stomping across the wood floors above my head just 3 hours after I managed to fall asleep.
In all these moves, I have learned that home is where your heart is, it's what you make of where you live that makes it a good place to be. I am not in love with the new house yet. No matter, I am just hoping that I can feel safe there and that it will feel like home, even if we are going to be there just a short time.
We took over a load of boxes today and some of the front room bits and pieces and it is incredible how just putting a table and lamp in a room can change it's whole spirit.
When I first went into that house I could feel (as well as see) that there had not been any heart in that house for a really long time. No joy, no soul. Being there alone has been frightening for me, I have been on edge and nervous.
As more people came by, and especially after the group of great kids came over and they cleaned and laughed and had water fights, I began to feel the black oppressive feelings lift.
The smell is almost gone. The dirty smell went quickly, as soon as we got rid of the dirt ( funnily enough!) but I have this thing that makes me smell bad spirits. I don't mean ghosts, I mean bad feelings, misery, evil.
One room in particular smells terrible in this house, I gag when I walk into it. No-one else can smell it, it's not actually there, it's just me that can feel it and smell it. Luckily it is the room that we are using for storage and as we have been putting out boxes and pictures etc into it, the smell has been pushed out ( the rather smashing Lavender and chamomile 'plug in' air freshener helps too)
The bedrooms already feel peaceful, the rigs are down and the curtains are up, the boys have put some toys in there and I know that we will be fine sleeping in those rooms.
I am having trouble with the kitchen and the bathroom because they were so hideous and heave worthy that it's hard to believe the germs are dead. I am banking on the thought that once I have cooked something and the shower and bath have been used, I will feel more at ease about them. I am so stuffed if it doesn't happen!! I can't imagine getting away with popping over the road and buying a sandwich and then eating it in the car somehow!
So, 4 more sleeps in the barn. Tomorrow we are taking some time out, enjoying the morning here and then maybe heading over to the new house when it cools down a little, the back garden there is absolutely wonderful in the evening, around 6pm it is cool and shaded, so we thought we would get some work done then.
Seth loves the new house, he is so excited to live there, Isaac says that he is tired of loving and he might just go and get a flat like Jordan and just live there because he doesn't want anymore new houses. Just the same one for ever.... me too my Isaac, me too.

It's a gift.

I have had a splendid day today, super, excelled myself in all areas, if I may say so myself.
At first light we packed the car full of boxes and bags and stuff and boxes and also, children and drove the 1. point something mile to the new house, unloaded and we decided that H would stay and work in the garden ( again) Seth would stay with him and I would take the other 2 and just go away, somewhere nice, where boxes and smells and work of any kind would be a distant worry and not in my very grumpy and tired face.
Hoorah, off we go, feeling sort of free and a bit wicked and wasteful, have we really only 5 days to overcome the feeling of doom at leaving lovely posh barn home to reside in house that is now a bit lovely and clean and almost homely but still so filled with memories of how it was? Yes we do but times come upon us when we just have to say Bugger it all and have some fun or something.
Today was most certainly a bugger it day. Bliss.
Glorious sunshine and a couple of quid for lunch and off we set. Trago Mills, there is even a FACEBOOK club supporting Trago mills because I tell you it is lovely there, cheap household stuff and clothes and also a pets corner and eating area and kids rides. Just the job. A mere mile from the Barn and we set off first to see the animals, goats and ducks and pigs and guinea pigs.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw someone coming towards me with purpose, smiley face and most definitely, deliberately heading my way.....Oh look it's B! Lovely friend from single motherhood days, we were single together and close with my sister too, all 3 getting together with our collective children ( 8 all together) I married H and moved away and heard that B had got married and had another baby. Oh I was so happy to see her! She had a delicious blond haired toddler attached to her by a leash, I mean handy strap, to stop her escaping and being eaten by the goat or trampled by a holiday maker. Oh and she is having another baby, any day I think , she used to be a petite little thing and as so many of us tend to do had gained some weight over the years. Anyway she was pregnant and blooming and .......you know what happened next don't you? You just KNOW I asked her when her baby was due don't you?
Well I didn't, so there! Oh not me, oh no........ I twisted my face into as gleeful an expression as I could muster, eyebrows almost atop of my head, because I was SO genuinely thrilled for her , and then....THEN I put out my hand (and I am normally so untouchy feely, so unlikely to touch anyone if I can help it) but I put out my hand and as I screeched "HOW EXCITING!" as I RUBBED HER BELLY. I did, I really did.
She looked at me and she said... "Ha ha, nothing in there, I am just FAT"
Oh dear sweet powers that be, please open the ground and swallow me up.
I would NEVER, EVER presume anyone is pregnant if it was just a remote possibility, or if there merely a cute little pouch or something but this was honestly and truly so obviously at least a 7 month belly, so clearly full of almost cooked baby that I was compelled to show this lovely girl just how happy I was that she was about to be blessed again. Oh hell.
So, after I had blabbered on about my whole damn life for 30 minutes trying to pretend that I hadn't just done what I had just done ( oh but I really did it, oh dear.....) we went our separate ways and had some lunch and played for an hour or 3.
Back at the new house, H and Seth had worked miracles and things are beginning to look as though we could have a nice outside area any day now.
H has a hat, one that makes me just melt because he looks so fabulous and touching and ....well look



this is how that garden looked before....



and today.....



and we bought one of those metal bins to burn the garden cutting because it would have just been so hard to lug it all to the recycling place.....I hope we won't ruin the whole universe by burning this grass and stuff, we'll take our bottles to the recycling place and make up for it a bit but we are desperate to just get this done!

The front of the house was like this

it gives off such a gloomy feeling, all overgrown and dirty curtains at the windows, weeds, trash and misery.

Now its clean and cleared, still a bit unloved but definitely looking more loved and clean


We got home, weary, aching but brimming with feelings of satisfaction ( and mortification in my case) H had his bath, the 2 littler boys had theirs and when things have been going so well , you sometimes think you might be invincible and able to do things that really, you should never do. Like thinking 2 little boys could play unsupervised in the bath for 10 minutes......which they did, quite happily as it happens.
Oh hell.




And while I am posting so many pictures, here's one for you.



I am beginning to panic. Fortunately, I don't have the time.

These are a few of my favourite things.......

I am eternally grateful that I gain such enormous joy from the littlest things, my day has been full of joyful moments today.
The house, the new house , yes the new house, no longer the next house, the new one, the gleaming, fresh, sanitary, sparkling, shiny, lustrous, fresh smelling, new house is looking incredible. It smells good too.
Ahem.......I PEED on THE toilet.
Yes I did, I sort of had to hum while I did it, twitching my fingers and banishing all pictures of how it used to look, I also made my sister go first but I did it, all is well, I can live there now.
In fact, when I went back alone this evening, I wanted to live there, to sit in the summer's evening with my brilliant white net curtains billowing in the breeze.
This evening, I had several young people from church come and help and they really DID help, they scrubbed the kitchen cupboards out and cleaned a huge fridge that was so filthy, now it is gleaming and ready to be filled with cooked chicken, cheese strings and fruit juice.
They worked in the garden and dismantled a pool that was there. They cleaned the last window that I couldn't reach and hung a beautiful new curtain for me. They moved a rotten freezer and replaced light bulbs.
We are almost ready to start taking things over there.
H. is going to clean the carpets because stains, fluffy ones and nasty ones, other peoples' stains, ewwwwwwwww.
Actually the thing is, when someone is dirty and they don't clean, it is pretty exciting when someone else comes along and gives it all a good scrubbing because under the filth, it's all brand new, not worn out and threadbare. The carpets are quite good ones, now they have been vacuumed a few times they look pretty nice, when they have been cleaned and smell of kirby shampoo and cleanness, it will be a joy to walk on them.
I spoke to the landlady today, she said she was going over there early tomorrow morning, I wish I could be a fly on the wall because it is unrecognisable to the place she last saw. She said she is taking someone with her and had explained that the house was trashed and filthy.....not anymore it's not. I wonder who she is taking, what's the betting that it's an estate agent to value it and put it up for sale? That seems likely doesn't it?
My sister called this evening to say that her husband ( a landscaper) has a client who owns 25 properties, she is going to ask if he has any houses in our town....oh imagine if we can get a house, with a garden, for long term let.......that will be clean when we move in......oh sweet dreams.
I still haven't taken any pictures, somehow I can't. My landlady knows that I always take before and after pictures so I shan't tell her that I haven't and I am beginning to wish that I had, because words will never describe just how bad that house was.
I think I will wait until we are in, and it looks like home. That seems like the best plan right now. 12 days, we move in 12 days and not a thing is packed yet, actually it is because we didn't unpack most of our stuff when we moved here, hoorah! We won't unpack it this time either, all ready for 3 months time when we do this all over again. When we move out I am not even going to vacuum the next house ( I mean the one we are moving into in 12 days) if we move in and never clean or vacuum before we move out, it will still be 100% cleaner than when we got the keys.
We have done all the cleaning we are doing for this landlady.....twice over.
I hope I can sleep tonight, I am charged up and have been so busy all day that it may take a while to relax and wind down. I had a hot bath and washed my hair as soon as I walked in the door at 9.30 this evening. We were all over there this morning, H has worked so hard outside, the garden will be lovely and great for the boys. We came back at 1pm, all had a nap and then I went back this afternoon and evening. What a blessing to have H and know that I can do these things, the way I want to do them and not have to worry about home or the boys, to know that I will get home and find everything as I would like it, with clean happy boys and H waiting for me. I would feel enormous frustration if I had to be at home while H went out and I had to stay at home. Control freak, that's me!
H is working over here getting ready for saturday, we are ( can you believe how stupid we can be??) hosting a water fun day for a huge group of kids...I think about 30.
3 Pools, from huge to baby, water slides, water bombs, water pistols, hot dogs, ice lollies and FUN. So he is getting this garden ready.....nothing like keeping busy to stop you going mad is there???? PLEASE let it be sunny on saturday.
I am off to lie down and enjoy the feeling of satisfaction that comes from having achieved so much. I shall think of my curtains blowing in that summer breeze, of sweet smelling floors and new beginnings.
It's the little things that make life bearable. Glorious even.

Another day, another holler.

I am busy. So busy. But we are getting there.
I had a friend come to the next house to help clean yesterday and she said " oh, it's not too bad" which was like a big old pat on the back for me because it told me that I must have made huge strides in the filth and grime that is our next home.
I keep thinking about how well we are doing and then I remember that we have to pack this one and clean this one and get everything over to the next one and that then, in 3 months we will have to do it all again and I. am. so. tired.
I have been so touched by the calls offering help though, hard to accept but I am saying yes and inviting people to scrub and wash and laugh and help.
The shower is all gleaming and shiny, I thought we may have to smash those tiles and redo it, I thought I might have to ditch that stove but no, my elbow grease has worked marvels and I can almost imagine taking a shower and having a wee in that bathroom....but not yet!
Every day I bleach the toilet again and spray it with anti-bacterial spray and tell myself how clean it is, my mind won't let go of how filthy it was though...I have to either get over that or accept that I will have to squat behind a tree in the garden because in 2 weeks time that will be our home. We won't be here in this lovely airy and clean house anymore, once again my heart aches a bit ( literally, ouch, chest pains, scary things)
I am overwhelmed with so many emotions, mostly cross ones and sad ones, some thankful ones and many resigned ones, I think there may be the odd hopeful one hidden in there somewhere.
I stopped the new meds, I know it has only been a week but the sweating, oh that damn sweating, I can't bear it and as I stood and walked across the room yesterday and I dripped with sweat and my hair was stuck to my head I remembered that this was the very medication that I have already been weaned from because of the awful side effects. Then they put me on the one that sort of worked but still made me sweat. No more. I have to be able to work out a way to be well without putting my body through this misery.
I absolutely am all for medication that helps, when it makes you feel just as ill with the side effects, well for heaven's sake, what is the point?
Day by dad seems to be the way to go, just get through one day at a time, fixing what needs to be fixed, enjoying what needs to be enjoyed and then get up and do it all over again the next day.
Sophie is doing well, we say that quietly and enjoy every happy phone call. Dan is splendid, Jordan is happy, Seth is nearly 7, Isaac is chatty, Elijah is a divine whirling mass of sparkle, flip fops and noise, H is steady and gentle....things aren't at all terrible. Just busy.
My sister and her husband just finished building a house, all by themselves...wanna see it?



would you just look at that beauty. I know they must feel enormous satisfaction, every stone and inch of plaster done by the sweat of their own brows...amazing and I am thrilled for them. I am sure that I could never build my own home, I am way too impatient, I want it all right there, where I can see it and touch it and live in it right now!
They live in Utah, so although I am pleased for them there is no envy because I would rather live here in a rented home than have a mansion anywhere else. I love where I am, I belong here and couldn't leave again.
Jane is coming home next month, I haven't seen her or those little girlies since last march when dad died, I miss her and can't wait to see her again.
So, another day done, tomorrow we start all over again. Lucky us.

And from my Father.....

From my dad, I inherited, curly hair, gappy teeth, a propensity to chubbiness, thriftiness and an ability ( second to none) to see humour when others might weep.
From my mother I fall heir to a creative flair, sensitivity, generosity and the most impressive gag reflex.
I was walking behind a lady and her rather glorious golden retriever when pregnant with Daniel. I was admiring how splendid this creature was when he lifted his tail and I saw just a glimpse of his anus. I tell you I gagged and heaved until I popped some blood vessels, right the way through town, long after the dog and it's owner had left my eye's view.
I kept thinking I had myself under control when I would remember having seen the dogs bum hole and off I went again, until I wept with exhaustion from heaving. I get that from my mum.
She has been known to gag at the mention of a name. When the first one left and for several years afterwards, if she would have cause to mention him she would say ( for example) " Are the children with ... hurerrrrrrrrrrp this weekend?" just couldn't say his name, the thought of him made her so sick that she would retch.

At least it takes a dogs arse to make me heave, lordie!

Anyway, this evening, after a long, hard, hot day, I drove over to the next house because yesterday, I poured 2 bottles of oven cleaner over the stove and put the trays and shelves to soak, I had to go and check that and see if it would need another application ( YES! of course.)
I got there and charged the gas card so I could have some hot water, went upstairs to check the progress of the black gunge on the shower walls ( none, it is sticking with impressive revoltingness) At least I found the switch for the shower and it now works, even if I can never imagine getting into that cubicle naked because ewwwwwww.
I looked at the toilet that yesterday I CLEANED. I did it, this lavatory had not one bit of white showing, that's all I will say, it was very, very bad and I faced my demons and cleaned that thing until it shone ( and that earned me the tightest hug and a face stroke from H because it was a major deal, MAJOR.)
As I walked around the house I was talking to myself and telling myself that I was tired and that coming over there when I was so tired was probably a bad idea and , hmmmmmm am so emotional today and why do I feel so glum?
I called mum and said that I was at the house and said that she could come and see it if she so fancied.

I was peering through the clouded ( filthy) windows at the front of the house, whilst pulling on my industrial strength gloves when she arrived.

"HELLO!!!!! You have to come round the back because I only have the back door key!!" said I. So she did.

H worked so hard yesterday in the garden and cleared a whole load of hedgerow, clipped and cleared and chopped and piled, so the back is beginning to look as though, in about 3 broken backs time, it will be lovely...good first impression.
The next 2 rooms are swept and have lovely pretend wooden floors, easy to clean and looking tidy, if not clean.
Then the kitchen, which is cleared but not clean, oh no, certainly not clean, even the spotlights on the ceiling are encrusted with grease. The stove? Yeah, you can imagine.
So.......my mum is here, hoorah!
"Oh!" she exclaimed " I love it.... HURERRRRRRRRRRRRRP! Oh Helen it is going to be the most fantastic house HURERRRRRRRRRRRP! Look at this kitchen it will be ( glanced at stove) HUREERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPP! *gasp* HURERRRRRRRRRRRRP"
She wandered all through the house and she marvelled and gagged and exclaimed and all the while, every time she looked at the carpet, or the stained walls or the shower she HURERRRRRRRRRRRRRPED until her eyes watered and that, well that is when my dad came to me and it was just the very best thing that could have happened because even 3 hours later I am wiping my eyes and snorting because it was just so gloriously funny.

She so meant every "ooh and ahhhh and lovely!" but that gag just couldn't keep itself in, I knew that she was seeing just how grand this house can be when we have shovelled the shit and polished the windows, but land sakes, there is really no avoiding just how begrimed and squalid it is right now.

Thanks my dad and always thank you my mum because without you I wouldn't be me and actually, now I have realised that the glum and gloomy feeling I have is a lot to do with the new medicines, that always make you feel worse before they make you feel better, I rather like me.
I needed that laugh.

So, not so bad. Or is it?

We got the keys to the next house. ( is it me or are just those 2 words frightening all on their own? Next. House. simple words yet holding so much meaning and work and STRESS and moving and cleaning and .......) We went and had a good old wander around without anyone else there.

So, good that it isn't as filthy as I first saw, painted magnolia and not too many dints and holes.

Bad that it is still filthy.

Good that it isn't so huge that it will take way too much to run.
Bad that the bedrooms are smaller than I am used to and our bed is BIG and COMFY and nothing, absolutely nothing will make me get a smaller bed. We may have our bed scrunched in the bedroom without anything else, or it will be under a window ( good in summer, can cope with that).

Good that, um.........hmmmmmm, er, let me see.......

Bad that the cooker has probably never been cleaned and has been used a LOT to cook saucy and dribbling and oozing and black things. Also is very close to the floor, in fact when you open the door, it rests on the floor, how extraordinary and stupid.

Very bad that the shower seems not to work and bizarre in its similarity to the cooker in that it appears to have many dribbley, oozing and black things in it, black is the colour scheme for kitchen and bathroom in a dirty, slimy sort of way.

You know ( and a whine coming here, brace yourselves, I am weeping, it could get depressing) I get moments where looking on the bright side is so bloody hard.
I CAN see the potential this house has and if we were moving there forever, if it was ours or long term, I would scarcely blink at the work that is ahead of us but we will be there just long enough to do the work for someone else and then we have to move to a house that I would never choose in a million years. Another house that is being trashed by the madman that lives there right now. That will need work, that we will inevitably have to do because we have no choice.
We walked around and enthused to the boys and I won't lie, I did see the good and it has a pretty nice feel to it, the cleaning and the scrubbing will be a bugger but we can get help and it will be done before we move in.
Repairs have been made in true our landlady fashion, walloping lumps of wood stuck over gaping holes in doors, a bit of a wipe over with some cheap paint, or not, and we're good to go.
I want, for once in my life, to feel worth something.
When we moved here I felt that.
Look at me!!
I can have something nice and even better than nice.
12 days. That's how long that lasted and it cost us £1.000 to move here, has cost a lot to live here but it has been worth every penny, just to have the feeling that we are indeed deserving of the niceties of life.
I am ill again and that makes me sad. Being sad makes me sad. I have medicines to take and we hope that I can feel better and be able to deal with the enormous load that I feel I am having to bear right now.
I am so proud of Sophie, it is such early days and she is doing so well. The proof that she is doing well is tough for me though. For example...today she called and was steaming mad.

" I HAVE HAD IT. ENOUGH.
IWANNASCREAMINHERFACEFUCKYOU!ANDGETTHEHELLOUTOFHERE...
but then, I would get the sack."

CONSEQUENCES, she GETS IT! She is learning but my poor heart when my ears here that screaming and ranting and temper. She was tired and had been working a long day, her immediate boss had taken her back to some rooms to show her what she hadn't done ( uh oh).

~*breathe in*~
I explained that if she were to walk into a room and think to herself " if this was my room , if I had just arrived for a stay and paid £90 for a night, what would I want it to be like?" and then make the room look like that. To try and remember that these people were paying a considerable sum to stay there and that every one of them wanted to walk into a room and be wowed. If the free shampoo is missing, if the bin doesn't have a bag in it.....well it does matter to that guest.
I wonder if she heard me. I called her back later and she was happier.
~*exhale*~

My blood pressure is 135/115, my skin is one big itching welt, with a few blisters thrown in.
I have been having what the Dr thinks are Esophageal spasms. Not fun, sudden, tight pains in my chest that make me retch and my head goes light ( if only it would work on my arse and hips) my hands go numb and when that happens at 70 miles per hour on a motorway......bit scary really. She ( my doctor) held my hands today and scooted her chair so that her knees were touching mine and she said, " Please, will you please look after yourself" and you know, I really would, except when should I do that? What can I put down, so that I can be kind to myself and make me all better? It isn't as though I don't want to look after myself. I really do, but if I let one thing go, we could have that domino effect and then life would really be a barrel of laughs.
I did book the holiday ( did I tell you that? I would go and check but really......can't be bothered) so I did, and I paid everything stupid girl quoted me, trouble is she did her sums all wrong and darn it if she shouldn't have said £3265 plus insurance ( £228) not £2450. I still booked it because it is the one single thing that is keeping me this side of plucking my hair out with clenched fingers and humming with my lips pinched together.
So now I have to find that extra £1043, minus insurance ( £228) because I paid that ( Happy birthday H) and pay back mum, which is fine, I can do it and don't tell too many people, but I already squirreled some of that way already. It will all be paid and paid back, I hope by the middle of October. It will be very hard but somehow, I think that will make the holiday even more glorious.
Lets face it, by the time we have moved again, twice, faced whatever the next 4 months has to throw at us, the very idea of 3 weeks of sunshine, having my bed made every day, no cooking, no dull shopping for bread and toilet paper....the holiday will be glorious. I absolutely plan on holding my doctors hand and having her understand how terrified I am of flying and watching her print off a script for lovely, mellowing, don't give a monkeys nuts drugs, that I will hug and not share and take 30 minutes before we board. Fly me.

Oh, I have stopped weeping by the way, just in case you were worrying, I have cleaned my glasses that were spotty from tears and am feeling fuzzy and relaxed ( medicine, prescribed and quite marvellous, even itching has stopped. H and I have our meds in a plastic ice cream tub, up high in a cupboard even Eli the ape can't reach. I told him with not a little pride that if I am prescribed one more drug, I shall need my very own ice cream tub.)
Ha. Giddy heights at the age of 45.
At least I don't have one of those weekly meds deals that you have to sit and dole all your tablets into so you don't forget any ( H does, but he is so much older than me, 48 today, although he says he doesn't go in for all that birthday malarky anymore, which is handy because he means it, as long as he has a nice dinner he is birthdayed and happy, ideal especially as Isaac is 6 tomorrow, we saved all our singing and cards for him. Hooray.)
I think the new tablets might be a good thing, I called the boys little shits yesterday and said if they stood on the bloody table once more I would have to break their legs.
Not good in itself, the fact that they looked at me as if I was a perfidious headcase and carried on about their business ( standing on the table and making fart noises) made me realise that perhaps I have been making too many idle threats lately and should work on getting with some programme or other ( nanny 911 or super nanny? who can tell, much of a muchness in my honest opinion, wonder what Nanny Deb would make of me and my empty threats of extreme violence? Jo from super nanny would, I strongly suspect, sit me in a corner, get down on my level and tell me that this is not asseptable behaviour, to which I would have to reply that when she had actually given birth to 6 kids, stayed at home with them 24 hours a day for 22 years, without ever tasting an alcoholic drink and then learned to say ACCEPTABLE, instead of asseptable I might listen to her so shut up. Thankyou. )

Oh blast, forgot to have some toast with tablets, now feel a bit sick and heartburny. Always something to spoil the fun.
Still, not so bad after all. Is it?