Today is giving me an extra dose of the 'Mondays'. My house resembles heaps of toppling chaos and everybody is bad tempered including the cats. They hate change, me less so. Our house of many colours is being dumbed down and calmed into house buyer's heaven. A friend of mine who cleans windows when it is not raining and helps cross ladies with other jobs when it is, is here helping me shift junk and administer operation bland. My face was apparently a picture when handed a chart of magnolia shades, we settled on one in particular called 'obliterate' and it is doing just that. Our house is unfolding into a magnolia menace with the back drop of my ferocious endless sneezing every time I deep dust another pile of books!
Thing are moving on at a pace, but it is all the other stuff that goes with it. Every time I shift a shelf I find myself either sitting on a box or lying in the hall reading nostalgic children's books, from either my childhood or the children' This brings on those terrible hormonal soppy lady sobs that we get in mid life when not thumping people that irritate us. My vast collection of I Spy Books, and endless ladybird books collections normally shock visitors. However I have the last laugh. Late at night, often in the small hours...a little game after too much wine, called ' which was your favourite Lady Bird Book? Will bring on tiddled sobbing from visitors, as I can always produce the actual edition of the book , normally only embedded deep in their nostalgia as a memory from mummy at bedtime etc. None of us like the new bland paint effects... but may we as well give them what they want, we can make a new technicoloured house somewhere else.
Meanwhile huffy old cats are most put out. Instead of helping with my husband's publicity the other day, I spent most of the week-end designing a heated cat bed in a cardboard box, fully decorated and with the addition of several layers underneath. One of those being a hideous microwaveable hot water bottle purchased from a nameless German supermarket. Not by me, him of course. . It is filled with gel and heats up, but cools down rapidly in the bed, and goes flabby and remains slightly warm and soft. I have taken against this, it was acquired by him to save me boiling the kettle for my two REAL hot water bottles.
The first time it was forced upon me, I awoke very cross at the dead of night wondering who had done what in my bed, due to it's body temperatured vile wobbling consistency. It was out of the window fairly rapidly, however I have now forgiven it and the elderly Tiger loves it. Although how I am going to train my neighbours to heat her bed, as well as look after the house when I am away, and it may involve bribery, but they are patient as they live with Mr Dog, who I felt moved to write about last time. They are also liable to take solace in our house when we are way and drink wine in our jaccuzi bath, this being my friend and her husband, not her and Mr Dog. The other cat Mrs Figgy Wiggs is very jealous of any facility designed for the Tiger, and currently is furious about the new pristine cat tray which is carefully hidden away in our downstairs loo, once she is sure the coast is clear she likes to get in there and attempt to make her mark in front of it. However my radar is on regarding this, and I give chase if I sense if is happening. Downstairs all our rooms lead of a central hall, so it is possible to go round and round in circles, which is partly why small children like staying with me. I have now slowed the chase down and introduced cat treats after the right one has gone out through the cat flap, so hopefully no more catty nonsense.
I had a couple of very rough days in the middle of all the fuss, and also oversaw some sods law in the area, many neighbours had perfectly sound trees come down in the last storm, I had a couple due to be felled due to how rotten and dangerous they were, I had really looked forward to next year's firewood - but of course they withstood the wind and will have to be cut.
He has gone into overdrive with house rearrangements, as fast as I throw stuff out he brings new even worse things in. This morning he stood over me in bed with agitated arms due to small cufflinks not being suitable apparently for his morning dexterity. A lovely shirt in cornflower blue stripes a bargain in a junk shop, which had obviously been flung in there by it's previous cufflink hating gentleman. Once this shirt was completely applied to him, he did look very pleased, and off he went to avoid heaps of paperwork and start rummaging through all my newly arranged book shelves. The wires for the internet and speakers we have festoooned in nearly every room, plus spot lights for disco balls...apparently have to go behind all the books. The funny thing is, that last night as endless amounts of men stamped into the house with anything from a mandolin through to a full sized double base, looking as if they were attending a long live band rehearsal that I knew nothing about. I inquired as to whether the wires needed to be put away, and it was met with a 'shoosh not now dear' He did look so rugged and crossly sweet today installing my ladybird book collection for the second time..but not as cross as he got taking me shopping last Saturday. We arrived and as soon as I walked up the high street I was accosted by my teenage daughter's best friend, who was frantically looking for change to feed the ticket machine and not get booked by the traffic warden. Naturally I gave her all my change, only to find my husband in hot pursuit also wanting what I had given away. I was not allowed to buy something I was going to buy anyway in order to give him change, instead he opted to pay by text which apparently led him through over 25 instructions and cost him more and used up all his quiet time in the car making business calls. I arrived back and he was furious.
I am in his good books currently as I made a vast supply of chocolate brownies and also Bangladeshi fish curry, I made this hot enough to blow everybody's head off and fuss was soon forgotten. I drank too much wine and descended into my bed and slept the sleep of the wicked, but of course forgot that the decorator was arriving early in the morning expecting me to have moved things. Instead he got the pair of us with our hair on end shoving stuff into cupboards and not wearing enough clothes.
I am now on 6.5 mg of LDN and it is working!
More from witter on soon.
Mary F x
Dealing with grief
