'Bank Holiday' where? I've spent mine in my pyjamas crawling on my knees, sweating and stretching up in order to paint the bathroom. Finally after 7 years and allowing for one tiny corner that still needs work, I have a bathroom I'm proud to let guests use. If we had any guests of course which luckily at the moment we don't. I have also cleared my wardrobe as I promised you guys I would and I have also cleaned the fridge. I also after much effort and nagging managed to sort the dining room, not as much as I wanted to but a beginning at least. So the only 'problem area' left is the garden, that I cannot tackle on my own - gone are the digging and weeding days for me. I also cannot erect the new fence but to be honest we can't enjoy our garden from our house anyway as we don't have the luxury of patio doors so as I can't see it, it doesn't matter to much. But I must do something because I would love to sit in it and enjoy the peace.....
Peace? Who am I kidding, the kids next-door have a trampoline and you have never heard kids as noisy, honestly they only seem to have two volume settings - loud and louder. We cannot sit in our garden, nor in fact use the back of our house because of it. Every morning between 6/7 am they start yelling and we don't get a break unless they go out at 8:30 on a school day often screaming as they go. I raised two girls, probably the same kind of age gap as well but my pair did not behave like they do. Screaming, crying, stamping and running about all days all hours - it's intolerable to me let alone Jon, as our house often shakes as they stamp, yet if we say anything we are afraid it will only become worse or the adults may start a campaign against us. That's the trouble these days not many kids or adults are respectful of each other, it's so rare to hear a child say please and thank you. A short while ago in my local newsagent a little boy did say thank you as he was handed his change. He was so polite it made me look up from what i was doing and congratulate his mum as to what a lovely little chap he was, but didn't it used to be the rude ones that stood out? As opposed to the polite ones? Shame really as I firmly believe that we are storing up a lot of trouble for ourselves in years to come as a lot of kids these days don't seem to have the fear of anybody let alone respect anything, that's a scary prospect in my book.
There isn't a muscle in my body that doesn't hurt today, that's the thing about fibromyalgia the pay back for doing anything on a slightly better feeling day is horrendous. I worry about this a lot. I really have to weigh up if its worth doing anything at all even on the odd day when I feel a bit brighter as I know for a few days after I will really hurt. My fairy god mother moved out years ago mores the pity so I don't really have much choice do I? If by any chance she comes again I wouldn't want to go to a ball or a night club in a posh frock - even with the prospect of a new pair of shoes, but I would quite like someone to give me a hand and couple of hours indoors with a paint brush....
Lots of you loved my last post involving my daft cat Horace and his squeaky little friend. Horace is actually only here because we have had so much trouble with mice in the past. We live very close to the railway line and at this time of year we do seem to get a lot of mice running about. Last year was the worst and to be honest it neatly broke me....so that's why I went and got the H (also for Jons PTSD). He was away somewhere and he had set all our traps in our kitchen before he left. I was actually not happy as I would rather he hadn't. I told him that if anything was caught in them I wouldn't be able to deal with it. He said he would sort when he returned from his trip. I avoided the kitchen in the evenings and had invested in a rather large lidded plastic box in which I kept our bread etc so at least that would be untouched. So imagine my horror when I crept into the kitchen in the morning and found a mouse doing a very good Ben Hur 'chariot race' impression as it dragged itself all over the kitchen floor whilst its back end remained on the trap. I screamed the house down flung open the front door and yelled for help! - by chance just as a rather attractive policeman was walking past. I begged him to rescue me but he looked rather taken aback at the time. There I was, a mad woman, only dressed in a tshirt quite hysterical. On the doorstep he informed me he 'dealt with drugs burglary and car theft' not mice but if i promised not to tell anyone at the station he would help. He saved the day (catch and disposal) and I probably made his - its funny now looking back on it now - he must of told all his mates about this mad bint who had accosted him whilst he was on his rounds. It was about then I decided that I was going to declare war on the rodents and I was going to get the best mouser possible. A few weeks later we had the H but so far all he does is fetch them and bring them to me to play with ??? No words can describe this so we have to teach him its not my idea of a game as he had another the other night in the hall........sending me shrieking up the stairs..........
Oh here we go again - more stamping as the kids next-door have yet another tantrum I'm surprised you can't hear them ......
Today ....well its been a painful day in more ways than one x
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