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Floodwater, Procrastination, Sports Obsession & Wedding Avoidance

Finally, we are gearing up to find a new home. Sorry… sorry… make that I am gearing up to find a new home. Bear as usual, is plodding along at his usual snail pace, intent on leaving everything to the last second, as per. I meanwhile, am making sure everything of importance down in the cellar is packed away in sturdy cardboard boxes and plastic wheeled, lidded tubs. We had a little flood water last month, thanks to the torrent of rain dumped on us by the northern jet stream and climate change. It was only two inches in the main cellar and a few millimetres elsewhere that seeped up through the concrete along the edges of the walls, but it became standing water as it didn’t go down for more than a week and even then the main room still had puddles for four days after. We were inundated with flies and mosquitoes and following the floods, 28C for a few days.!!

Great.! Nothing like stinking, stagnant water and flying, buzzing, bitey things to contend with while you’re trying to drag sopping wet, old, deteriorating cardboard boxes away from the water, and all the crap you (Bear) were supposed to have gotten rid of down the tip, three years ago while sweating like a turkey at Thanksgiving.! So for some weeks the entire house has stunk of wet cardboard and rubbish. A well placed comment on Monday afternoon had Bear up and moving yesterday to get rid of said cardboard and rubbish, and the cellar door and back door were left open most of the day to air out the smell. Funny, how it takes a guilt trip to get his ass in gear… his excuse is he’s on holiday having finally, a year late, finished the nursing degree he’s been studying for. For the past six months he’s been working with people with Down Syndrome, which I fully understand is stressful and mentally exhausting, but he wouldn’t have had to had he gotten his ass in gear last July and finished his nursing degree like all the other students managed to instead of living on bloody Twitter and procrastinating instead of doing. The man drives me nuts.! Have you noticed.?

Even now, he’s sat on his ass on the sofa, iPad in hand, one eye on the Olympics while he watches some other sport on the iPad. This has been the standard since July 23rd. Actually this has been the standard since he realised he could watch sport on his iPhone, iPad, laptop and TV all at the same time. Also since July 23rd his two youngest children have been with us for their Summer holidays… and in the past 12 days we have done absolutely sweet fuck all.! Bear has a reservation to visit the local Wildlife Park next Wednesday and the kids will be going back to their mother next Sunday. In three weeks of holiday, they’ll have visited the zoo. Wow.! Exciting stuff. Boy, do we know how to have fun in this house. ūüė¶ I however have been so bored out of my mind, I’ve baked cookies, muffins, a tray bake and done a ton of laundry and housework just to keep me from killing him. He’s so obsessed with anything remotely sporty… if Kr√≥lestwo Dreamlandu had a women’s team competing at marbles, he’d watch them.!

Last month I was invited to my youngest son’s wedding. After four years of whining about his lazy bitch of a fianc√©e, how she never shifts her ass off the sofa or her iPhone and wouldn’t know housework if it smacked her around the ear, and two children, he’s finally decided to marry her. The wedding is set for September 13th and Bear and I are not going. Now I have to find a viable excuse to give as to why we’re not going. The truth is, I have absolutely no wish to sit through all the bullshit and mutual appreciation drivelling and lies that will be his reception. How his father is his hero and has always been there for him. How his father has stepped up and been the best father a man could have and his father bleating on about what a great son he has and how he’s grown up and become a man and a wonderful father. I’m not sure I could keep a civil tongue in my head being battered with all that hypocritical shit.!

I have however, been sent all kinds of photos that one or other of them has taken and been sent a list of guests. ‘See what you’re missing out on!’ Not much by the look of it. The bride has chosen a c.1900’s white lace summer dress as her wedding outfit and my eldest son is wearing the same suit he wore to his Prom 10 years ago, albeit with a distinct Viking vibe. My youngest will of course be wearing the pale grey pinstripe he wore to his father’s wedding back in 2017, despite the fact he’s gained 70 pounds and had a shave, so he now looks 12. The proud parents will be decked out in all the tasteful finery they can afford I’m sure, all for 15 minutes in a Register office. The guest list is a long list of total strangers and my ex-husband’s military mates, all of whom will have heard only one side of our divorce story and very little of it will have been true. Also a good reason to practice wedding avoidance.


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