It may be a bad blog, but it is my blog, and not only is it something I have created it is also a method I can use to find out what I am thinking, therefore it is therapeutic and self-indulgent – and I don’t apologise.
It is Monday 07 April and it is has been four days since the Landlord dropped the bombshell that he wanted me to leave, I have been here in Woodbourne for five year s and as much as I despise the place, well the slug infestation, it has been a cheap bolt hole. That is all it has been really, a bolthole, somewhere to sleep, it has not been a home.
A home is where you can go, close the doors and shut the world out. Home is in Kidderminster where my partner is, not in Swindon, Swindon is where I work. A home is where you feel relaxed; a home is where ‘fireside manners’ begin
I have stopped living here, I have come to exist – and I have only just realised this.
I want to live again, I want stop watching the door wondering if the landlord is coming, I want stop asking permission to invite my partner down – it is a good thing that has happened, I keep telling myself. As the days pass I find myself become detached from this place – it is a house I no longer belong to, and it no longer belongs to me.
Within 24 hours of hearing the news, well 12 hours to be honest, I had viewed a house a few streets from here. It is quite nice but very much at the edge of my price range, but looking at the other properties I have seen today one was a basement, gloomy and stuffy, the bath suite was green and I wondered what it was hiding. The Living Room was square, it had a television, a chair and a Washing Machine, and I couldn’t imagine a plant let alone a person thriving there.
The killer was the Cooker, two rings with a microwave above it, that would be Baked Beans and Toast as the staple diet then.
The second property was basically a Galley Kitchen with a Bedroom at one end, and a Bedroom on the other, at least it has a cooker.
Hopefully the house is still available.
To make today bearable I was the ‘Welcoming Committee’ for my Aunt-In-Law – is there such a post? Her Niece was accompanying her on a trip to Birmingham to see my husband, to see them made me forget the stress of moving, and then an unexpected gift. It was is a 1930 Rule Book from the Deutche Reichsbahn, the German State Railway, and a Union Membership card.
The books serve no value, they are indecipherable to me, but they are beautiful, they are a token of affection and thought.
Suddenly things do not seem quite so bad, because there are good people.
I want a home, I can do it.