Whatever next…
Well, so much for himself being all “oooh, how great the cats are and how much they love being here without her”. The cats are currently… Well, one is on my bed, one just sloped off to get some food and the other is currently happily asleep on the sofa. Yep, I got the cats. I tried to get some sort of sense out of himself about picking up my stuff, since he seemed so urgently in need of getting rid of it. I pulled strings, I made enquiries about couriers and “Man-With-Van” hire and generally tried to work on a very tight time frame and budget to try and give him what he wanted: my stuff out the house.
HA!
What a flippin’ joke that turned out to be. His latest estimate is six weeks, or in laymans terms, “I can’t be bothered to pack your stuff because while I thought it would be a problem for you, I wanted it gone, but now I know you can organise to get it, I’ve lost interest in clearing it out”. His “real” excuse is that he’s working too much, and has moaned about having to take days off just to pack my stuff. I know what his shifts and work are like, and frankly, I seriously doubt he would be working so hard if he wasn’t volunteering for overtime, which is his norm. It was the same with the cats: he knew I wanted them, so he wanted to keep them. Now they are an inconvenience, he threatened me with “get the cats within 28 days or they will be DISPOSED of”. That is a direct quote. The cats are 8, 6 and 5. I know when they were born. I can tell you their dates of birth. I think they are a little young to be put to sleep, don’t you? How flippin’ callous is that anyway? It wasn't like he was jumping up and down saying they would be REHOMED. His exact words were "DISPOSED OF" which to any normal person means off to the vets and a quick injection, then it's night night forever... I'm normal, however I'm starting to wonder about him...
So now they’re here. My flat isn’t really big enough for them in the long term, but I have a contingency plan coming into action. I will care for them, look after them, fuss them, spend time with them, get them to a vet to get the big welts scratched in their necks (that himself said they weren’t doing anymore since I wasn’t there… Liar...) sorted out and then they will be going to lodge with a friend of mine who has plenty of space, a big house and a need for a psychopathic vermin-hunter as they have a rat problem. I’m sure Miss will be very happy beheading rats. I expect my mate will come down one morning to find a miniature rodent Somme in her kitchen or outside the back door…. Oooh, fun. At least I won’t have to clear up the corpses.
Fatso is the brains of the operation: he directs the girls as they stalk and hunt, overseeing the operation from a suitable vantage point, and probably holding de-briefs after each hunt, telling them where they went wrong, and what they did right… Fatso is the archetypal male: get the girlies to do the work, keep your paws clean and just run the show from a distance. I’m beginning to think he might be a reincarnated Mob Boss… There’ll be horses heads in the rats nests coming up…
Anyway… In other news, I have managed to source some of the bits needed to get back to sewing things. My cousin’s wee girl will be christened in a couple of months, and I have the excellent task of making the gown for her. Some friends helped out with a wee bit of finance (Oh God, the rag market is BRILLIANT, and so CHEAP!!!) and I now have everything I need to make the gown, with material left over to make a second one, to sell and pay off what I was loaned to get the material for B’s gown. I might even be able to get back to sewing a bit more full-time too, as I have spoken to a local charity shop and volunteered to work there, as well as telling them I am a seamstress and happy to mend anything for them so it can get sold in the shop rather than getting chucked in the rag bin for want of a zip.
The gown is all cut, including pattern alterations for the overdress: My mother has finally dispelled the belief I had that things weren’t good enough, and has informed me that I am a better seamstress than even her, as I can make up patterns out of my head. It’s made me feel really brilliant to hear things like that, bolstered my confidence no end, and I have even added curved seams to the gown pattern, just because mum said “Don’t do it: they’re a pig to do!” Ach, they’re not so bad on the small scale… hehehe
For those interested in such things, the pattern is Simplicity 4766 and I plan to make it in a very light Dupion silk, with a voile underskirt and soft cotton lining, with a beautiful lace that I came across in Wales ages ago, and happened to be in my knitting box which was one of the few things I brought with me when I left. Anyway, the lace will go on the sleeve cuffs and the underskirt hem. The overdress is being made out of a wedding dress I had: cream/ivory satin with a big pearl border at the hem. The border is going to be re-stitched to the hem of the gown once I’ve cut all the pattern pieces out of the main body of the dress and will be princess line, ie no waistline, just a long flow of material from shoulder to hem, with curved seams and a pleated insert in the centre back to give a little fullness to the skirt as well as adding interest to the gown. It took me about two hours to take the original pattern, trace it, cut it, think about the seams and pleats, cut up the pattern pieces to the new pattern then make a “Toille” or mock-up in some gash cotton I had kicking about. I was well chuffed with the result and the mock-up will be sent to my cousin for sizing in the next couple of days. I’ll get some pics of the finished article to post once it’s all done…
Other than that I have been keeping busy: I had a friend over for a visit and we bitched about our respective ex-others, had a lovely meal out, and watched movies on the laptop. Sadly that visit came to a premature end with the revelation about the cats, but I’m sure there will be more sessions to come. I had to suddenly arrange to get them picked up and didn’t know if I would have to go or not, so my mate departed to let me get things sorted.
I’ve also been keeping up with my housework, and the house is still lovely and tidy, although my bedroom windowsill could do with some work, as it’s a bit of a jumble of scarves and a couple of hats that I need to find homes for as well as all my hair stuff, perfumes, moisturisers, jewellery boxes and so on. You can tell I’ve been to my sister’s with the additional jars and bottles of stuff… She makes toiletries for fun, and I get to sample the results. Her Zen moisturiser is wonderful stuff: very calming and soothing. I’ve also been knitting, which is soothing too: A scarf for my mate is currently being produced, because she dropped over while I was knitting scarves for my mum and dad out of a soft, fluffy wool I found for cheap in one of the local shops and demanded one for herself otherwise she was going to kidnap my mum’s… Mum loves her scarf anyway, and thinks it’s great, because it’s soft, fluffy, and she was sat patting it while I was on the phone to her because it was too warm to wear it.
By the way… all three cats have now joined me in the bedroom, loafing about and getting in their cat-naps so they have enough energy for their main sleep later… They seem pretty happy and settled already, and Fatso already discovered that squishy Bears are good to sleep on, or just sit, purr and get fussed on. They were doing some “male bonding” earlier: both asleep on the sofa while I made cups of tea and hung out the washing. The three of them don’t even seem to mind the Hampers, although Bert keeps trying to investigate the new arrivals by getting up close and personal in his ball. I think Miss is already learning to get on the bed or sofa while he’s out, because he’s run over her tail a couple of times already. Bert and Tinky seem fine with the lodgers and have continued their normal routines as if nothing unusual was happening.
Oooh, Tinky is getting fat by the way: we have another week till she’s due her babies, but you can tell she’s pregnant now. She’s got her lovely, tidy cage, all her food in her bowl, bedding all snuggled into a corner… Bert has a typical bachelor pad… His bedding is all over the place (two corners at least and across the middle of the floor) and I filled his food bowl last night and put it in his cage… First thing he did was get in the bowl and throw half the contents out onto the floor around the bowl… They get stick treats of wooden sticks with nuts and seeds stuck to them: Tinky nibbles hers when she wants any. Bert just stripped all the food off in a couple of days and most of it is still on the floor of his cage… I was going to clean him out, but I think I’ll just do the necessary corner that is his designated toilet space and leave the rest because otherwise I’ll just be chucking out the food he has all over the place. Men… who’d have ‘em…
Well, not much else to report really. I did have some philosophical thoughts to share, but I’ll save them for when I’m writing at a silly hour of the morning. I seem to function better, philosophically speaking, at two in the morning. I started another train of thought the other night, but it got derailed by my mate phoning for a late-night girlie chat.
I’ll keep you posted on the rest of the things doing. I’ve got to say I was almost laughing when I spoke to him the other day, because frankly it was absurd. If it wasn’t for him threatening to have the cats put to sleep, I think I would probably have been giggling too much to talk. He didn’t want me calling him, despite him sending cryptic texts, threatened to have his numbers changed and hung up on me as I was trying to get some sense out of him about stuff and solicitors letters. I phoned him straight back. He said he was going to change his numbers and hung up on me again, so I phoned him straight back…Do you have any idea how much hassle it would be for him to change his mobile number, let alone the home phone? He can carry on if he chooses, because frankly it will cause him more of a headache than it will for me. That’s what made me laugh… I don’t really care if I have his number or not, because my solicitor can deal with him if I really need anything from him now. If he wants to keep my stuff indefinitely, I’ll just go through the list he was sent, work out how much it’s all worth, then add it to the final settlement figure. It’s no skin off my nose to be honest: it would be nice to have my things back, but at the end of the day, it’s just stuff, right? All replaceable, especially once I get the money for all my things he’s keeping hold of. The real valuable things are here with me already, including the last real button he could press, that being the cats. They’re safe, happy and that’s what counts. Stuff is stuff, but animals are more precious than any things that can be replaced. Material can be bought: the love of my cats and their unique personalities can’t.
Ho hum… time to go do the washing up I suppose…
P.s. I know he’s bitched that I’ve woken him up with phone calls, but frankly, even if he’s doing 12 hour nights, he should be awake at 4 in the afternoon, don’t you think? It’s not like he ever answered until the other day anyway… I phoned a couple of times late afternoon and a couple of times in the evening as well as sending at least one text asking him to call me, like my solicitor said I would (“will contact you in two to three weeks to discuss… blah blah”) and only got a reply from him when he text me and I called him straight back, simply because his solicitor hadn’t had a reply from mine… You know, in a civilised world, he would be able to talk to me like a human being, but then again, I don’t think anyone classes as being important enough for His Lordship to notice or care about. Oh well, he’ll fall flat on his face one day, and to be honest, it would probably improve his looks…
... And now it is later... I just read his blog, and I'm about ready to giggle myself into a little heap at the complete gall of the man. He has the front to be all "poor me" about having to get rid of the cats, then bitches about the smell and cat hair... Oh, and THEY were what was stopping him packing my things! Naughty cats! I shall have stern words with them later for being bad cats and looking for attention from someone who is so self-centred, he would give a gyroscope a run for its money...
Oooh, big wow... He changed the locks... You know, if he would get his facts sorted he would know that I DO still have the right to access the property (my solicitor says so, and so does the Womans Aid counsellor, and my parents, and everyone else I've asked...). Not that I plan to however, I just offered to help pack my things, since he seemed to be having trouble (Nice of me? I thought so...). It's not like I am so crass as to remove anything that's not mine. For a start, that's theft, and I am no thief, although he's trying to say I am, because I had the gall to take a PAIR OF SUNGLASSES (oooh, get me, the big criminal that should be locked up! Come and arrest me now!... *yawn*). Those would be the sunglasses he bought for a hundred and twenty quid because he'd "lost" the ones he paid ninety quid for... The ones I found by moving one bit of paper on the kitchen table, and he'd apparently searched the house... Riiiight... Anyway, he gave me the hundred and twenty quid pair, probably because he felt like a complete idiot (heh... now there's a shocker... the idiot had a moment of self-realisation...) and so the shades were mine... Until it suited him to whine about it anyway...
Well, perhaps I will be able to get my things back after all. It's either that or he has to pay for my stuff. I worked out already that the five christening gowns that he would have to compensate me for would cost him in the region of a thousand pounds (materials, trimings, thread and labour costs, and even then he's getting a bargain...) and then he would have to pay my mate for the material she bought for a dress I was supposed to make for her (another sixty quid for materials, pattern and threads, as well as compensation for the fact that she had to go and buy a dress for the occasion, because I didn't have the stuff to make her dress...) not to mention all the rest of my materials and patterns, threads, trimmings, sewing machine attachments et all. That's just the sewing room too...
He also bitched about the list I sent of my things, because, in his words "It's funny how so many things suddenly have been bought by (my) parents". I spoke to dad about the list and he was agreeable that the things I said they had bought were things he had purchased personally or supplied money to me for. The fact that my dad was kind enough to send me money on a fairly regular basis when he was working which paid for a few things in the house, some of which did not appear on my list (money for redoing the garden, buying the plants and everything as well as some other bits and pieces...) and is now happy enough to sign a letter to say these things were gifts from my parents to me, or gifts on the sad loss of granparents and friends to me personally... Well, dad is an ex Justice of the Peace, and not given to lying on legal documents, and I was brought up the same, so I think my list is perfectly valid...
Heh.. I had to laugh about his comments on my current location too, and the fact that I had a friend pick up the cats. That friend was Bear, who was the only person available at such short notice who had the time and money to go and fetch the moggies. Yadda, yadda, I'm in the Midlands. Big wow. That's been a real secret since he was told about it recently (see previous blog entry somewhere), and frankly, an area the size of a city is fine by me, or even the size of the Midlands, and to be honest, I'm sat here in Kidderminster (oooh, get me, narrowing down the search area...) shrugging about the whole thing. He's not prepared to be happy sharing a country with me, so I wonder how he will feel when it comes to sharing a field in Kent, which he is going to have to do. I will have the good grace to ignore him unless I have to speak to him, so I wonder what he's going to do in that instance, since apparently even Australia would be too close. I shall be enjoying the show, and if I'm being perfectly honest, the only difference between this year and any other will be one less face at the dining table and less packing for me to do beforehand, as I will not have to do all the thinking, packing and organising for another person who treated me like I wasn't there anyway, except to moan if I hadn't packed something of his...
Perhaps some day in some parallel universe, he will work out that he could just have sorted my stuff or allowed me to do it, no questions asked, and all this would have been over sooner rather than later, and he wouldn't be practically crying on the end of the phone because I phoned him to ask for clarification over what the solicitors were currently arguing over. OK, so I was the one that ended up in tears because of the thought of my cats being put down, but now he no longer has that bargaining chip... He says he will be divorcing me for unreasonable behaviour and is now claiming that I was the violent party because apparently I smashed a drawer over his head... That would be the already broken drawer that got thrown at his feet in a fit of temper because he did his usual, wound me up (again), refused to listen to me in any way, shape or form (again) and was following me around the house (again) and basically leaving me feeling very threatened (again)...
By the way Mr B, it went in the BIN, because it was RUBBISH. That's where RUBBISH goes, not all over the computer room floor, like the four big refuse sacks of pizza detritus that was cleared out before I left...
Another thing... Before I left there were comprehensive photographs taken of the property. Everything got photographed to show what had been left and how it was left. I couldn't go through all the mail that littered most of the dining room and the hall to remove anything of mine, and couldn't sort though books, DVDs, music and so on to sort out mine from his, however happily I had someone there in a more calm frame of mind that decided to take pictures of everything, including the fact that the house was still a mess, but that only some of my things had been taken. Ah well, we shall see what I get back and what I have to bill him for...
Anyway, I'm probably rambling yet again, but hey, I don't always get time to sit in front of a computer (unlike some people I could mention), and I have to fill in a few blanks here and there... Time for a cuppa I think...
By the way... I'm STILL waiting for mail, you sorry ingrates! hehehe
HA!
What a flippin’ joke that turned out to be. His latest estimate is six weeks, or in laymans terms, “I can’t be bothered to pack your stuff because while I thought it would be a problem for you, I wanted it gone, but now I know you can organise to get it, I’ve lost interest in clearing it out”. His “real” excuse is that he’s working too much, and has moaned about having to take days off just to pack my stuff. I know what his shifts and work are like, and frankly, I seriously doubt he would be working so hard if he wasn’t volunteering for overtime, which is his norm. It was the same with the cats: he knew I wanted them, so he wanted to keep them. Now they are an inconvenience, he threatened me with “get the cats within 28 days or they will be DISPOSED of”. That is a direct quote. The cats are 8, 6 and 5. I know when they were born. I can tell you their dates of birth. I think they are a little young to be put to sleep, don’t you? How flippin’ callous is that anyway? It wasn't like he was jumping up and down saying they would be REHOMED. His exact words were "DISPOSED OF" which to any normal person means off to the vets and a quick injection, then it's night night forever... I'm normal, however I'm starting to wonder about him...
So now they’re here. My flat isn’t really big enough for them in the long term, but I have a contingency plan coming into action. I will care for them, look after them, fuss them, spend time with them, get them to a vet to get the big welts scratched in their necks (that himself said they weren’t doing anymore since I wasn’t there… Liar...) sorted out and then they will be going to lodge with a friend of mine who has plenty of space, a big house and a need for a psychopathic vermin-hunter as they have a rat problem. I’m sure Miss will be very happy beheading rats. I expect my mate will come down one morning to find a miniature rodent Somme in her kitchen or outside the back door…. Oooh, fun. At least I won’t have to clear up the corpses.
Fatso is the brains of the operation: he directs the girls as they stalk and hunt, overseeing the operation from a suitable vantage point, and probably holding de-briefs after each hunt, telling them where they went wrong, and what they did right… Fatso is the archetypal male: get the girlies to do the work, keep your paws clean and just run the show from a distance. I’m beginning to think he might be a reincarnated Mob Boss… There’ll be horses heads in the rats nests coming up…
Anyway… In other news, I have managed to source some of the bits needed to get back to sewing things. My cousin’s wee girl will be christened in a couple of months, and I have the excellent task of making the gown for her. Some friends helped out with a wee bit of finance (Oh God, the rag market is BRILLIANT, and so CHEAP!!!) and I now have everything I need to make the gown, with material left over to make a second one, to sell and pay off what I was loaned to get the material for B’s gown. I might even be able to get back to sewing a bit more full-time too, as I have spoken to a local charity shop and volunteered to work there, as well as telling them I am a seamstress and happy to mend anything for them so it can get sold in the shop rather than getting chucked in the rag bin for want of a zip.
The gown is all cut, including pattern alterations for the overdress: My mother has finally dispelled the belief I had that things weren’t good enough, and has informed me that I am a better seamstress than even her, as I can make up patterns out of my head. It’s made me feel really brilliant to hear things like that, bolstered my confidence no end, and I have even added curved seams to the gown pattern, just because mum said “Don’t do it: they’re a pig to do!” Ach, they’re not so bad on the small scale… hehehe
For those interested in such things, the pattern is Simplicity 4766 and I plan to make it in a very light Dupion silk, with a voile underskirt and soft cotton lining, with a beautiful lace that I came across in Wales ages ago, and happened to be in my knitting box which was one of the few things I brought with me when I left. Anyway, the lace will go on the sleeve cuffs and the underskirt hem. The overdress is being made out of a wedding dress I had: cream/ivory satin with a big pearl border at the hem. The border is going to be re-stitched to the hem of the gown once I’ve cut all the pattern pieces out of the main body of the dress and will be princess line, ie no waistline, just a long flow of material from shoulder to hem, with curved seams and a pleated insert in the centre back to give a little fullness to the skirt as well as adding interest to the gown. It took me about two hours to take the original pattern, trace it, cut it, think about the seams and pleats, cut up the pattern pieces to the new pattern then make a “Toille” or mock-up in some gash cotton I had kicking about. I was well chuffed with the result and the mock-up will be sent to my cousin for sizing in the next couple of days. I’ll get some pics of the finished article to post once it’s all done…
Other than that I have been keeping busy: I had a friend over for a visit and we bitched about our respective ex-others, had a lovely meal out, and watched movies on the laptop. Sadly that visit came to a premature end with the revelation about the cats, but I’m sure there will be more sessions to come. I had to suddenly arrange to get them picked up and didn’t know if I would have to go or not, so my mate departed to let me get things sorted.
I’ve also been keeping up with my housework, and the house is still lovely and tidy, although my bedroom windowsill could do with some work, as it’s a bit of a jumble of scarves and a couple of hats that I need to find homes for as well as all my hair stuff, perfumes, moisturisers, jewellery boxes and so on. You can tell I’ve been to my sister’s with the additional jars and bottles of stuff… She makes toiletries for fun, and I get to sample the results. Her Zen moisturiser is wonderful stuff: very calming and soothing. I’ve also been knitting, which is soothing too: A scarf for my mate is currently being produced, because she dropped over while I was knitting scarves for my mum and dad out of a soft, fluffy wool I found for cheap in one of the local shops and demanded one for herself otherwise she was going to kidnap my mum’s… Mum loves her scarf anyway, and thinks it’s great, because it’s soft, fluffy, and she was sat patting it while I was on the phone to her because it was too warm to wear it.
By the way… all three cats have now joined me in the bedroom, loafing about and getting in their cat-naps so they have enough energy for their main sleep later… They seem pretty happy and settled already, and Fatso already discovered that squishy Bears are good to sleep on, or just sit, purr and get fussed on. They were doing some “male bonding” earlier: both asleep on the sofa while I made cups of tea and hung out the washing. The three of them don’t even seem to mind the Hampers, although Bert keeps trying to investigate the new arrivals by getting up close and personal in his ball. I think Miss is already learning to get on the bed or sofa while he’s out, because he’s run over her tail a couple of times already. Bert and Tinky seem fine with the lodgers and have continued their normal routines as if nothing unusual was happening.
Oooh, Tinky is getting fat by the way: we have another week till she’s due her babies, but you can tell she’s pregnant now. She’s got her lovely, tidy cage, all her food in her bowl, bedding all snuggled into a corner… Bert has a typical bachelor pad… His bedding is all over the place (two corners at least and across the middle of the floor) and I filled his food bowl last night and put it in his cage… First thing he did was get in the bowl and throw half the contents out onto the floor around the bowl… They get stick treats of wooden sticks with nuts and seeds stuck to them: Tinky nibbles hers when she wants any. Bert just stripped all the food off in a couple of days and most of it is still on the floor of his cage… I was going to clean him out, but I think I’ll just do the necessary corner that is his designated toilet space and leave the rest because otherwise I’ll just be chucking out the food he has all over the place. Men… who’d have ‘em…
Well, not much else to report really. I did have some philosophical thoughts to share, but I’ll save them for when I’m writing at a silly hour of the morning. I seem to function better, philosophically speaking, at two in the morning. I started another train of thought the other night, but it got derailed by my mate phoning for a late-night girlie chat.
I’ll keep you posted on the rest of the things doing. I’ve got to say I was almost laughing when I spoke to him the other day, because frankly it was absurd. If it wasn’t for him threatening to have the cats put to sleep, I think I would probably have been giggling too much to talk. He didn’t want me calling him, despite him sending cryptic texts, threatened to have his numbers changed and hung up on me as I was trying to get some sense out of him about stuff and solicitors letters. I phoned him straight back. He said he was going to change his numbers and hung up on me again, so I phoned him straight back…Do you have any idea how much hassle it would be for him to change his mobile number, let alone the home phone? He can carry on if he chooses, because frankly it will cause him more of a headache than it will for me. That’s what made me laugh… I don’t really care if I have his number or not, because my solicitor can deal with him if I really need anything from him now. If he wants to keep my stuff indefinitely, I’ll just go through the list he was sent, work out how much it’s all worth, then add it to the final settlement figure. It’s no skin off my nose to be honest: it would be nice to have my things back, but at the end of the day, it’s just stuff, right? All replaceable, especially once I get the money for all my things he’s keeping hold of. The real valuable things are here with me already, including the last real button he could press, that being the cats. They’re safe, happy and that’s what counts. Stuff is stuff, but animals are more precious than any things that can be replaced. Material can be bought: the love of my cats and their unique personalities can’t.
Ho hum… time to go do the washing up I suppose…
P.s. I know he’s bitched that I’ve woken him up with phone calls, but frankly, even if he’s doing 12 hour nights, he should be awake at 4 in the afternoon, don’t you think? It’s not like he ever answered until the other day anyway… I phoned a couple of times late afternoon and a couple of times in the evening as well as sending at least one text asking him to call me, like my solicitor said I would (“will contact you in two to three weeks to discuss… blah blah”) and only got a reply from him when he text me and I called him straight back, simply because his solicitor hadn’t had a reply from mine… You know, in a civilised world, he would be able to talk to me like a human being, but then again, I don’t think anyone classes as being important enough for His Lordship to notice or care about. Oh well, he’ll fall flat on his face one day, and to be honest, it would probably improve his looks…
... And now it is later... I just read his blog, and I'm about ready to giggle myself into a little heap at the complete gall of the man. He has the front to be all "poor me" about having to get rid of the cats, then bitches about the smell and cat hair... Oh, and THEY were what was stopping him packing my things! Naughty cats! I shall have stern words with them later for being bad cats and looking for attention from someone who is so self-centred, he would give a gyroscope a run for its money...
Oooh, big wow... He changed the locks... You know, if he would get his facts sorted he would know that I DO still have the right to access the property (my solicitor says so, and so does the Womans Aid counsellor, and my parents, and everyone else I've asked...). Not that I plan to however, I just offered to help pack my things, since he seemed to be having trouble (Nice of me? I thought so...). It's not like I am so crass as to remove anything that's not mine. For a start, that's theft, and I am no thief, although he's trying to say I am, because I had the gall to take a PAIR OF SUNGLASSES (oooh, get me, the big criminal that should be locked up! Come and arrest me now!... *yawn*). Those would be the sunglasses he bought for a hundred and twenty quid because he'd "lost" the ones he paid ninety quid for... The ones I found by moving one bit of paper on the kitchen table, and he'd apparently searched the house... Riiiight... Anyway, he gave me the hundred and twenty quid pair, probably because he felt like a complete idiot (heh... now there's a shocker... the idiot had a moment of self-realisation...) and so the shades were mine... Until it suited him to whine about it anyway...
Well, perhaps I will be able to get my things back after all. It's either that or he has to pay for my stuff. I worked out already that the five christening gowns that he would have to compensate me for would cost him in the region of a thousand pounds (materials, trimings, thread and labour costs, and even then he's getting a bargain...) and then he would have to pay my mate for the material she bought for a dress I was supposed to make for her (another sixty quid for materials, pattern and threads, as well as compensation for the fact that she had to go and buy a dress for the occasion, because I didn't have the stuff to make her dress...) not to mention all the rest of my materials and patterns, threads, trimmings, sewing machine attachments et all. That's just the sewing room too...
He also bitched about the list I sent of my things, because, in his words "It's funny how so many things suddenly have been bought by (my) parents". I spoke to dad about the list and he was agreeable that the things I said they had bought were things he had purchased personally or supplied money to me for. The fact that my dad was kind enough to send me money on a fairly regular basis when he was working which paid for a few things in the house, some of which did not appear on my list (money for redoing the garden, buying the plants and everything as well as some other bits and pieces...) and is now happy enough to sign a letter to say these things were gifts from my parents to me, or gifts on the sad loss of granparents and friends to me personally... Well, dad is an ex Justice of the Peace, and not given to lying on legal documents, and I was brought up the same, so I think my list is perfectly valid...
Heh.. I had to laugh about his comments on my current location too, and the fact that I had a friend pick up the cats. That friend was Bear, who was the only person available at such short notice who had the time and money to go and fetch the moggies. Yadda, yadda, I'm in the Midlands. Big wow. That's been a real secret since he was told about it recently (see previous blog entry somewhere), and frankly, an area the size of a city is fine by me, or even the size of the Midlands, and to be honest, I'm sat here in Kidderminster (oooh, get me, narrowing down the search area...) shrugging about the whole thing. He's not prepared to be happy sharing a country with me, so I wonder how he will feel when it comes to sharing a field in Kent, which he is going to have to do. I will have the good grace to ignore him unless I have to speak to him, so I wonder what he's going to do in that instance, since apparently even Australia would be too close. I shall be enjoying the show, and if I'm being perfectly honest, the only difference between this year and any other will be one less face at the dining table and less packing for me to do beforehand, as I will not have to do all the thinking, packing and organising for another person who treated me like I wasn't there anyway, except to moan if I hadn't packed something of his...
Perhaps some day in some parallel universe, he will work out that he could just have sorted my stuff or allowed me to do it, no questions asked, and all this would have been over sooner rather than later, and he wouldn't be practically crying on the end of the phone because I phoned him to ask for clarification over what the solicitors were currently arguing over. OK, so I was the one that ended up in tears because of the thought of my cats being put down, but now he no longer has that bargaining chip... He says he will be divorcing me for unreasonable behaviour and is now claiming that I was the violent party because apparently I smashed a drawer over his head... That would be the already broken drawer that got thrown at his feet in a fit of temper because he did his usual, wound me up (again), refused to listen to me in any way, shape or form (again) and was following me around the house (again) and basically leaving me feeling very threatened (again)...
By the way Mr B, it went in the BIN, because it was RUBBISH. That's where RUBBISH goes, not all over the computer room floor, like the four big refuse sacks of pizza detritus that was cleared out before I left...
Another thing... Before I left there were comprehensive photographs taken of the property. Everything got photographed to show what had been left and how it was left. I couldn't go through all the mail that littered most of the dining room and the hall to remove anything of mine, and couldn't sort though books, DVDs, music and so on to sort out mine from his, however happily I had someone there in a more calm frame of mind that decided to take pictures of everything, including the fact that the house was still a mess, but that only some of my things had been taken. Ah well, we shall see what I get back and what I have to bill him for...
Anyway, I'm probably rambling yet again, but hey, I don't always get time to sit in front of a computer (unlike some people I could mention), and I have to fill in a few blanks here and there... Time for a cuppa I think...
By the way... I'm STILL waiting for mail, you sorry ingrates! hehehe
posted by Me at 6:10 pm
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