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Re: Thanks for sharing your experiences . . .

Posted: Tue Mar 06, 2018 3:18 pm
by Veebee
Where does clutter come from? We last moved house 10 years ago and got rid of lots of stuff and here it all is again. I like a bit of clutter though, although I wouldn't want 2000 books to get rid of as I'd start looking through them all and get nowhere. Good idea about Peter's tools.

A wagon ran into the back of my car last week so I'm now driving an all singing all dancing courtesy car. It has a button instead of a handbrake and my 9 year old grandson has taught me how to turn the radio off. I hate it but Allan would have loved it.I'm waiting for confirmation from the garage that the insurance will cover the repairs on my Yaris otherwise it'll be a write off. Apparently it may need a new back axle and wheel.

I think that after a bereavement being alone is a physical feeling that we're aware of constantly and I wonder if this will pass.

Anyway, I look forward to hearing about your lap dancing if you decide to partake...

Take care, you're doing well Vee xxx

Re: Thanks for sharing your experiences . . .

Posted: Tue Mar 06, 2018 4:23 pm
by Veema
It must be the time for car accidents. Some idiot hit my car (whilst parked) a few weeks back, cleared off and didn't leave any details leaving me with a £750 bill for repairing it. My brother had a major accident on the M6 on Sunday, I've no idea how he made it out alive, with just a few cuts and bruises...his car ore or less disintigrated as it rolled down the embankment, taking trees out as he went. Then, when he reached a stop at the bottom, BMW assist kicked in and someone talked to him via the radio that they had registered a major collision and had contacted emergency services who would be with him soon (big brother is watching you!) and was he ok.

The few times I've had a courtesy car, they've always been the most basic little breadbin sort of car that you feel you could pedal faster!


Re: Thanks for sharing your experiences . . .

Posted: Tue Mar 06, 2018 9:20 pm
by Veebee
Ouch, that's really tough, Veema. I was stationary too and sat in the car but as least the wagon driver stopped, checked my car and gave me his details. The garage have called today and repairs are going ahead. Imagine having a car that knows when you've had an accident... amazing. Hope your brother's ok after that scary incident.
Vee xxx

Re: Thanks for sharing your experiences . . .

Posted: Thu Mar 08, 2018 11:18 am
by Justamo
It must be something that happens when you're on Planet PC. Your car attracts random drivers who give you a mighty thump up the back. It's happened to the 2 Vees, and it happened to Peter and me. Is it our algorithms ? I blame nearly everything awful on PC but I don't think the insurance companies would accept it as a valid reason for a motor claim.

I have got a thundering headache, entirely self-inflicted. Last night a friend called round clasping a bottle of wine, and, as we all know, wine doesn't keep once it's opened. I'm always wryly amused by those Handy Hints and Tips which advise you earnestly to freeze left-over wine into little ice cube trays so that you can pop a cube into your sauce or stew. What left-over wine ? It's only the second lot of alcohol that I've had in 18 months or so and it went straight to my head. So I feel quite fragile this morning and am not too sure about driving - I FEEL fine, but suppose one of these random idiots hits me up the back and I get breathalysed ? So that's why I'm at my desk and not at the pool. Most of the drunk driving prosecutions happen on 'the morning after' in this part of the world. The pool can wait until after lunch.

Yesterday's meltdown was because I suddenly realised that Boris wouldn't buy me a card for Mothering Sunday this year. I find that there is an almost daily meltdown over something or other fairly trivial, but on the whole I can usually have a good weep, rebalance my chakras, have a strong cup of tea, cuddle my cat, and get back to my new normality. More or less. There is a strong possibility that today's meltdown will involve a brilliant blue sky, crisp cold, and the realisation that today would be a day when a youthful Peter would be packing skis and boots and heading off to the hills. And there isn't even any left-over wine to take the edge off.

I am shedding large chunks of my life. I have given away all my crafting stuff, and other peoples' shelves and cupboards are now groaning with reams of paper and card and stamps and inks and embellishments. Nature abhors a vacuum, as somebody very clever said, so the space released has filled itself up (how ?) with fabrics and patterns and patchwork and threads which up until now have been crammed into tiny spaces. I've kept my paints and sketching things, and about half of my books, so there is at least room to swing a co-operative cat in my study. I've even found my PC keyboard so can type in comfort. (Memo: do not buy a cordless keyboard because with a desk like mine you can lose it when it's not attached to the PC). Once I have money sorted out I shall redress the literary balance by having a massive shopping session on Amazon to fill up my Kindle. I'll keep up photography and writing too.

The reason for all this manic sorting out is that I have been looking a properties which might be suitable when I downsize. "A second spacious double-bedroom" in estate-agent-speak means a gloomy little room into which my desk would barely fit, let alone a sofa-bed - which was my cunning plan for a guest room-cum-study. But I don't want to look at possible places too thoroughly, because I might find the absolutely stunningly perfect place and then have a problem selling this house.

I've even made a start on the garage. Why do the males of the species accuse you of being a hoarder for saving a useful half-full reel of thread, and then fill the garage with screws and nuts and bolts, and bits of ironmongery ? And fluorescent tubes, which are difficult to dispose of. And tool boxes. And very possibly Shergar and Lord Lucan as well. I have an electrician coming round this evening to help himself to tools which he will distribute to various apprentices so that should relieve some of the burden, but there are still the 30 tins of paint each containing half-an-inch of solid matter. And everything is on high shelves and heavy. Never thought I would hear myself saying that I need a man, but, actually, I need a man. Just to move stuff.

Shut up Mo, you're wittering about nothing. Again.

I am going to get busy with the black plastic bags now, and clear up more metric tonnes of stuff.

Enjoy your day, Love Mo X

Re: Thanks for sharing your experiences . . .

Posted: Fri Mar 09, 2018 10:46 am
by sandraW
Hi Mo, How well you are doing, its nearly 3 years since I lost Trevor and even though the house is a bit emptier than before we still haven't made it to the back of the garage. I agree 1000% about the nuts bolts and bits of wood, metal. and don't get me going on the tins of paint!!!!, actually
I feel better just knowing there is someone else with the same problem I thought it must only be us.
We have a double garage with an apex roof, Trevor very cunningly made this into a storage area with planks of wood so there is still some of that to explore too, we have sorted the area we can see but we will have to put the daughter in law up there, she is the only one small and able enough, and see what she can get down, at least the sun is shining so that might get us started, fingers crossed.
Keep up the good work, the meltdowns are par for the course, on Sunday have a glass of wine, and get
lots of Boris cuddles. sending lots of cyber (((hugs))) love sandrax xx

Re: Thanks for sharing your experiences . . .

Posted: Sat Mar 10, 2018 4:34 pm
by Justamo
Heck, Sandra, I forgot about the garage roof. The roof struts are bending gently in the middle from the weight of the stuff stashed away. I can only report what I can see: the canary's cage (Sonic died while we were on holiday causing enormous distress to the child who was minding him), lots of cardboard boxes, about 50 fluorescent fittings and their associated tubes, enough timber to build the Shard several times over, and remnants of long-past hobbies. Not my hobbies. The men of the family. There used to be three of them: Peter, my father, and my step-son. Which may explain the volume of boy-toys and archaic tools which litter the garage.

A nice electrician came round on Friday and took away anything which could still be used, including a few tools for his son who has just started his apprenticeship. Next door's daughter's boyfriend is a joiner, and he came and took away lots of other tools, and I discovered the socket set which I used to use on my first Mini. (I have my own pink toolbox inside the house with hammer, pliers and all sort of other useful things in it, but I still find that the heel of a shoe is pretty good for bashing nails in with).

So I went off to the local recycling centre with a jig-saw and lots of other detritus, and was accosted by a man who wanted the jigsaw. (The jigsaw is the kind you cut holes with, not the sort you lose pieces of), and while he was looking at it his wife shouted at him to stop nattering and help get this pigging chair out of their van, and the pigging chair was a super office chair, far better than mine at home, so we did a swap. Only I think it's called swishing now. Or is that only clothes ? Anyway, now I'm sitting in comfort while I type.

You would think, then, that the garage is now looking pristine and empty. Only it's not. It seems to be fuller than ever, and now the heap of rubbish is embellished by the old office chair plus a lot of other stuff which I haven't dealt with yet.

My concentration is poor. I start a job; make masses of mess, and then can't face cleaning it up so I start another job in a different room. I suppose it's taken 40 years to fill this house up with stuff, and it's not going to get manageable in 2 weeks, but everything I pick up has a memory and a meaning. Not always a good memory - like the 4 rolls of wallpaper which Peter bought cheap (no wonder) and I refused to hang because it was so ghastly - but a memory all the same. I have found a family portrait which Peter wouldn't let me display so it was banished to the garage. I've taken it out now, and dusted it off, and the colours are as fresh as they were when it was first painted, but I feel guilty when I try to hang it in case Peter is watching.

I'll go on with the garage in fits and starts; my study looks beautiful and SO tidy that I'll never find anything again. It's been a dumping ground for the duration of the illness and littered with thread from all the manic sewing I did while my guy was in bed. The sewing machine is in for a service now, it's practically worn out.

The thing I can't move is Peter's bath towel. It's still in the bathroom, along with his dressing gown. I don't even want to wash them so I think I'll leave them where they are. Funny what gets to you, isn't it ?

Hope you're all OK.
Love Mo

Re: Thanks for sharing your experiences . . .

Posted: Sun Mar 11, 2018 9:39 am
by Veema
I wear Nige's pyjamas. His bedside cabinet is exactly the same as the day he died (and gathering dust), with his watch, his clock and his box of pills.

I think he would be fuming at me for all the money I have spent doing stuff that he would never let me do (new bathrooms being one...but there's nothing wrong with the ones we have...yes, but they are old fashioned and not at all my taste) and buying the new car and the new camper (hardly used). I think buying and changing things is a coping mechanism...I feel ok when I'm in the throws of a up after it isn't great though.

You get through however you need to.


Re: Thanks for sharing your experiences . . .

Posted: Sun Mar 11, 2018 12:49 pm
by sandraW
Mo, Trevor's dressing gown was behind the bathroom door until my Son and his family moved in at the end of August, so don't worry yet. When I finally moved it to the bag to go to the recycling bin, I then took the bag to the recycling at our Adsa, by the time I had done my shopping it was dark, the bag was
so full so I heaved it into the bin and left. The next day when I went into the boot of my car, there was
the dressing gown! its still there 6 months later, I just felt it was a sign! stupid I know but that's how it is.
The more you post about your garage the more I feel Trevor and Peter were kindred spirits my son can't quite believe there is someone as bad as his Dad for hoarding things. This is the problem when we come to clearing out every single thing holds a memory as you say not always good, but still a memory much love sandrax xx

Re: Thanks for sharing your experiences . . .

Posted: Sun Mar 11, 2018 10:36 pm
by Justamo
Sandra and Veema, thankyou for understanding and identifying so closely. It has been an awful day. I woke up crying, I'm crying now, and I phoned two friends and cried down the phone at them. I was running low on petrol so had to go to a different petrol station from my usual one because I was still crying and I didn't want to upset the sweet lady in the BP station who always asks how I am.

All this is because Boris didn't give me a card for Mothering Sunday. Isn't that pathetic? I got a happy step-mother's day email which made me wonder what he wants now (aren't I nasty?) but even that didn't help. Peter always bought a card from the cat for birthdays and Christmas and other notable days. So I rolled my sleeves up and got stuck into the 40 years of junk that is clogging up the garage, and two kind and tall neighbours came and helped and a third one offered stupid suggestions and generally supervised the procedure. Despite my assistance they managed to get down the stuff that was in the rafters and they shared the booty between them. And all the time tears were pouring down my face and I wiped them away with filthy hands and beautiful I was not, as Yoda would say.

I'm still leaking now. Boo and I are tucked up in bed and I've promised to help a friend with a tiresome job early tomorrow morning so I'll take a sleeping pill and try to get off to sleep soon. I'll be dehydrated if I keep on crying and Boo will be a soggy moggy.

Night all.

Re: Thanks for sharing your experiences . . .

Posted: Sun Mar 11, 2018 11:00 pm
by Veema
Oh Mo...its so hard some days.

Phoebe bought me a little notebook and pen for Mother's day so I've decided it's going to be my little book of positive things. I've been terribly down in the dumps these past few weeks, so hoping that if I can pick out some positive things from each day and write them down I can focus on the good in my life rather than on the 2 special chaps that are missing from it. I miss Nige every day, but I really miss my Dad, him dying has made everything hundreds of times worse. I love my Mum, but her inability to function on her own is like a ball and chain, awful as that sounds and it's bringing me down. I think you just expect parents to always be there because they always have been. My Dad was the one that was there for me when Nige died, so it's an extra large gap that he's left by bloody dying too!

Tomorrow is another day, maybe you won't cry as much...maybe you can find a positive thing, tiny as it might be.


Re: Thanks for sharing your experiences . . .

Posted: Mon Mar 12, 2018 8:53 pm
by Justamo
A couple of years ago I stopped at the side of the road and changed a wheel for a lady who had a flat tyre. Actually, her car had a flat tyre. She looked more or less OK except that she was a bit flustered about it all.

So can anybody explain why, when I had a flat tyre in Tesco's car park today, I burst into tears and started phoning people ? And when somebody asked my number so that they could call me back I didn't know what it was ? Why didn't I just open the boot, get out the spare, and do the necessary ?

Because I'm still on Planet PC, that's why.

Today's positive thing for Phoebe's Little Notebook is that I did actually have my phone in my handbag. It wasn't still in the fridge, which is where I found it this morning when looking for the milk.


Re: Thanks for sharing your experiences . . .

Posted: Tue Mar 13, 2018 12:51 pm
by Veema
I think all our 'independent woman who can do stuff' capabilities fly of into the ether with the spirit of our loved one. I used to be able to do all things practical (Nige didn't have a practical bone in his body, although he did try), now I can barely knock a nail in to put a picture up!

My positive thing for today (so far) is that Gus (puppy) didn't totally show me up at puppy fact, he was used to demonstrate a few things!

Re: Thanks for sharing your experiences . . .

Posted: Wed Mar 14, 2018 8:33 pm
by Justamo
Today's Positive Post for Phoebe's notebook is my having spotted an Officer of the Law pointing a speed gun at me while disguised as a garden hedge. Fortunately I was able to moderate my speed before I got into his range.
The very last thing I need right now is a speeding fine. And that lucky escape cheered up an otherwise mediocre day.

Re: Thanks for sharing your experiences . . .

Posted: Thu Mar 15, 2018 7:53 am
by Veema
Ha do make me laugh.

A policeman once jumped out with a handheld speed gun whilst my Dad was riding his motorbike...Dad thought it was actually someone shooting at him, swerved and crashed. Luckily he wasn't hurt, but it could have been fatal.


Re: Thanks for sharing your experiences . . .

Posted: Thu Mar 22, 2018 8:07 pm
by Justamo
Reality is spending two hours tidying up the garden and not having anybody to say what a difference I've made. Or turn the tap on for me because I'm muddy up to the elbows.

Reality is having a boiled egg for my tea instead of cooking a Proper Meal. With vegetables.

Reality is picking up the laundry basket and discovering there’s hardly anything in it.

Reality is not having anybody to cut the fingernails on my right hand.

Reality is sleeping for seven hours at a stretch at night.

Reality is not hearing a sharp intake of breath when I pull out briskly at a roundabout.

Reality is writing something that won’t flow and not having anybody yell at me at 2 in the morning to stop typing and come to bed NOW.

Reality is not having to drive home with wet hair after the gym or swimming, because it doesn't really matter when I get home now. Except for Boris's tea time.

Reality is not having a next of kin.

Reality is doing terribly grown-up things all by myself.

Realising that my posts have now lost any point, and are simply a recital of, “... and then I went to Tesco's ...”

Reality is finally understanding that I have to find a new 'normal'.

So that's it, folks.
Over and out.

Love, Mo