Monday, July 31, 2006
Well now Im faced with a dilemma..
Do I give up on the pleasures of Brixton and move to down troden West Norwood all for the (slightly dubious) benefit of a ground floor and balcony to dry my washing, or grow the odd plant??? The estate itself is a bit dismal. I'd be vunerable to burglars, the kitchen's smaller, you need a parking permit to park, I'd be in fecking norwood ffs, and the shops are poor, there's few amenities and no parks that I can see...it's outside the south circular andI'd have an 0181 phone number, I'd be loosing my view of Londons' skyline, no more watching Kens' Newyear fireworks from the kitchen window, there's less light, a lot less....
And yet I came back here expecting to be overwhelmed with a sense of love for this place, and despite it still looking all spick and span from the weekend, I still didn't feel anyoverwhelming attatchment to the actual flat. It's the area I love. The whole annoying stupid estate. I love it. And people know me here, I feel like I belong...I'd miss Myatts field and Minet road library...
Do I give up on the pleasures of Brixton and move to down troden West Norwood all for the (slightly dubious) benefit of a ground floor and balcony to dry my washing, or grow the odd plant??? The estate itself is a bit dismal. I'd be vunerable to burglars, the kitchen's smaller, you need a parking permit to park, I'd be in fecking norwood ffs, and the shops are poor, there's few amenities and no parks that I can see...it's outside the south circular andI'd have an 0181 phone number, I'd be loosing my view of Londons' skyline, no more watching Kens' Newyear fireworks from the kitchen window, there's less light, a lot less....
And yet I came back here expecting to be overwhelmed with a sense of love for this place, and despite it still looking all spick and span from the weekend, I still didn't feel anyoverwhelming attatchment to the actual flat. It's the area I love. The whole annoying stupid estate. I love it. And people know me here, I feel like I belong...I'd miss Myatts field and Minet road library...
Well I cleaned, she came, she said she liked it, and then that she would call me back this morning.
It's 1.30 now. Could it still be morning, I wonder?
It's 1.30 now. Could it still be morning, I wonder?
Saturday, July 29, 2006
I am quite beside myself.
The phone rang earlier and it was someone from the Homeswap scheme, the one that I have absolutely NO faith in, and I straightaway did my standard spiel, about my flat being top floor, no lift or balcony, fully expecting the conversation to then be over pretty quickly, as usual, and to my complete amazement they are still interested and are coming to view that flat tomorrow!
And her flat is ground floor, with communal gardens!!!
OMG! My mind starts to race. I can't stop it. This could be my lucky break, says Jay. This could be my turn. For a while I'm totally falling into it. How close Ace would be to all her school mates, the whole living without stairs thing...and then my eyes turn to this flat. The bare plaster walls in the bedroom I soon decide is the least of my problems, in every room there is decoration despair. Missing cupboard doors in the kitchen, curtains not quite hanging properly on poles, walls desperate for a lick of paint, stuff, just stuff, everywhere clogging up all the corners and cupboards...
I discover the wash basket crammed full of Jays dirty washing which he has thoughtfully brought around for me to do, but not told me about and it smells, and I cant actually do any washing because if I do, it'll have to hang around the house (like it does) and well, not having anywhere to dry your washing would be off putting wouldn't it? I must create the illusion of a beautiful clean, easy to live in penthouse luxury flat by midday tommorow.
Argh....the madness has set in, and deep down I know the chances of anyone swapping ground floor for up here, are remote, but as much as I keep reminding myself, I've been given a grain of hope.
The phone rang earlier and it was someone from the Homeswap scheme, the one that I have absolutely NO faith in, and I straightaway did my standard spiel, about my flat being top floor, no lift or balcony, fully expecting the conversation to then be over pretty quickly, as usual, and to my complete amazement they are still interested and are coming to view that flat tomorrow!
And her flat is ground floor, with communal gardens!!!
OMG! My mind starts to race. I can't stop it. This could be my lucky break, says Jay. This could be my turn. For a while I'm totally falling into it. How close Ace would be to all her school mates, the whole living without stairs thing...and then my eyes turn to this flat. The bare plaster walls in the bedroom I soon decide is the least of my problems, in every room there is decoration despair. Missing cupboard doors in the kitchen, curtains not quite hanging properly on poles, walls desperate for a lick of paint, stuff, just stuff, everywhere clogging up all the corners and cupboards...
I discover the wash basket crammed full of Jays dirty washing which he has thoughtfully brought around for me to do, but not told me about and it smells, and I cant actually do any washing because if I do, it'll have to hang around the house (like it does) and well, not having anywhere to dry your washing would be off putting wouldn't it? I must create the illusion of a beautiful clean, easy to live in penthouse luxury flat by midday tommorow.
Argh....the madness has set in, and deep down I know the chances of anyone swapping ground floor for up here, are remote, but as much as I keep reminding myself, I've been given a grain of hope.
Monday, July 24, 2006
The irony of the whole situation is, I really really want to go to the Big Green Gathering. Reddread wants me to work a night in ClimateCamps' 'Last chance Saloon' tent, which would be so much fun and just like the good old days...
The logistics of taking several children camping in some remote field with patchy transport links, all by myself, is quite difficult to say the least, carrying the sheer amount of stuff etc...even without the added pressure of having to be back a day early so that Vee and Ace can go to Japan (can you believe it?) with their father.
Reddread said, I should just hire a car. Jay said I should just go on the insurance of his car...
And for a moment last night, just a moment like, I was seriously considering it.
Arghhhhh!!!!! why couldn't it just be, well, any other type of car????
I'm hacked off.
Of course I haven't been at all hacked off that hective got to go to the James Bond wrap party, oh no...well not so's it shows anyway...
It wasn't so very long ago that we shared the same dreams and aspirations, those heady days at film school where we met and fell in love...
and now he's smoozing with the stars and I'm well...here, worrying that my degree won't even secure me a place on a pgce, and trying to think of interesting ways to fill the gaping holes in my CV.
The logistics of taking several children camping in some remote field with patchy transport links, all by myself, is quite difficult to say the least, carrying the sheer amount of stuff etc...even without the added pressure of having to be back a day early so that Vee and Ace can go to Japan (can you believe it?) with their father.
Reddread said, I should just hire a car. Jay said I should just go on the insurance of his car...
And for a moment last night, just a moment like, I was seriously considering it.
Arghhhhh!!!!! why couldn't it just be, well, any other type of car????
I'm hacked off.
Of course I haven't been at all hacked off that hective got to go to the James Bond wrap party, oh no...well not so's it shows anyway...
It wasn't so very long ago that we shared the same dreams and aspirations, those heady days at film school where we met and fell in love...
and now he's smoozing with the stars and I'm well...here, worrying that my degree won't even secure me a place on a pgce, and trying to think of interesting ways to fill the gaping holes in my CV.
Monday, July 03, 2006
Holy moly, I can hardly believe what's happened. Jays' parents request his presence this weekend, insisting that he come on the train because they have a suprize for him.
Well, we speculate. What can it be? He decides that as the only thing we really really want, that has to be driven, is a camper van, then perhaps, that is what will be...
I keep saying though, that no, this would be just to good to be true, why would anyone do something so brilliant for us? Nothing that good ever happens.
Indeed. Saturday night I get a text..."It's like the footie babe, not what we hoped for"
But the football's fecking shit I say to myself, 'cos we're all still really down in the flat from the England defeat...What could be that shit?
So Jay returns yesterday with the 'suprise', and as we're walking down the road to see it, he's saying stuff like, 'I think you're gonna freak out...please don't freak out...it's not exactly...er...
And it's some sort of ridiculous, posturing, gas guzzling, planet busting 4x4, the type the most selfish twattish people of all drive.
Sell it. I say. You must sell it immediately.
Of course he says, it's not that simple , because he feels somehow oblidged to run it for a while, as his dad has even paid for the insurance, and apparently, it's not even worth that much...and it's all too awkward.
Well I'm not going in it, I say.
Well, we speculate. What can it be? He decides that as the only thing we really really want, that has to be driven, is a camper van, then perhaps, that is what will be...
I keep saying though, that no, this would be just to good to be true, why would anyone do something so brilliant for us? Nothing that good ever happens.
Indeed. Saturday night I get a text..."It's like the footie babe, not what we hoped for"
But the football's fecking shit I say to myself, 'cos we're all still really down in the flat from the England defeat...What could be that shit?
So Jay returns yesterday with the 'suprise', and as we're walking down the road to see it, he's saying stuff like, 'I think you're gonna freak out...please don't freak out...it's not exactly...er...
And it's some sort of ridiculous, posturing, gas guzzling, planet busting 4x4, the type the most selfish twattish people of all drive.
Sell it. I say. You must sell it immediately.
Of course he says, it's not that simple , because he feels somehow oblidged to run it for a while, as his dad has even paid for the insurance, and apparently, it's not even worth that much...and it's all too awkward.
Well I'm not going in it, I say.
