The proposed building work on my house has been in the planning stages for what seems like forever. How complicated is it these days to get work done to the outside of your house, I had no idea. My house is an unattractive 1970's semi. It has square edges and little character. The problems with planning that we have had you would think it was a listed Jacobean cottage. The garage juts out at the front of the house and we thought we would bring the rest of the house to meet it with a symmetrical line, matching window and sympathetic new tiled roof, just as several people in the road have already done. Not allowed. Why? Not in keeping with the road. Ok so the road is not in keeping with itself. There are 4/5 different types of house in the small cul-de-sac and we face some low level flats and terraced 3 storey houses. Over the years lots of building work has gone on, some sympathetically some just plain ugly but the result is a higgeldy piggedly array in a patchwork quilt type display. The planning officer though he say no! New rules since 2007 apparently (shutting gate after horse has bolted) so we can't change our house to look like the nice looking ones in our road. We appealled, we lost. This all cost money. The jutty out bit has to stay as does the garage door. More money for new plans. Finally we are due to start work on the revised plan.
I am excited but also scared of the magnitude and mess. I have virtual shopped and planned so many times, changed my mind, changed it back again, it's difficult to accept its about to happen and I have to commit myself and make decisions. So it's farewell to my retro mustard 70's kitchen which has been in so long it's come back in fashion and hello to dust and eventual modern appliances. Let the work begin....
Tuesday, 21 May 2013
Monday, 20 May 2013
On a serious note
For those of you looking for something light and frothy, today this isn't it. I've had a few difficult days. Friday would have been my son Daniel's 21st birthday. Tragically Daniel died 16 years ago on his fifth birthday. He hadn't been poorly but unbeknownst to us he had a coronary aneurism which was udiagnosed and undetected and in fact a ticking bomb. Dan had Kawasaki disease as a toddler but this had been missed.
May is a month full of birthdays for my family and this makes it especially hard that Daniels is such a sad day rather than a celebration. It's difficult that when I am buying cards and presents for everyone else but for Dan, I am writing a piece for the in memoriam section of the paper and ordering flowers for his grave. It's something that I will never get used to and doesn't get easier even with the years that pass.
How people react is interesting too. Obviously close friends and family are fine, they are used to Daniels being spoken of often. Some people are curious asking directly what happened but worried that they may cause me offence by doing so. I am always keen to point out that no offence will be taken and I'm glad to be able to raise the profile of the silent killer that is KD. Others are shocked but sympathetic and you can see them mentally counting their own blessings and wondering how they would cope in that situation. They often say that they wouldn't be able to but the reality is you have two options to carry on or not. Most people choose the first but they are unlikely to wear their grief like a badge of honour, more likely they quietly deal with the ups and downs of grieving. So many bereaved parents walk among us, you would be surprised. From a personal point of view, I had a traumatised 7 year old that I had no choice but to carry on for, it must be so much harder if you lose your only child. Even so the survival instinct is a strong one. Don't get me wrong some days you just want to stay in bed, draw the covers over your head and never face the world again but thankfully those times get less as the years pass.
The other group of people you come across are probably the hardest to come to terms with. They are the ones who for what ever reason can't deal with acknowledging your loss. In the days, weeks and months after Dan died, I had people who literally crossed the road to avoid speaking to me. Or when I did speak to them for the first time didn't acknowledge what had happened to the point where I have thought that they didn't know, in some cases I have told them as I really believed they didn't know but they did and that made them even more uncomfortable. At first this made me angry, that they couldn't Acknowledge it was like an insult to Daniel. Now it's makes me a bit sad that they are so scared of emotions and also a little envious because its likely that they have never lost anyone really close or they would be able to be more empathetic.
Nowt so strange as folk eh.
I think one of the best pieces of advice I can give anyone for dealing with sensitive issues such as these is take your lead from the person in question, chances are they will want to talk about it and just because you don't know what to say, don't just say nothing. It's perfectly acceptable to say just that ' I don't know what to say' yes you may feel bad but believe me you are never going to feel as bad as the person who is bereaved and they don't feel bad because of what people have said to them, they feel bad because of their loss and sometimes just someone acknowledging that is enough.
May is a month full of birthdays for my family and this makes it especially hard that Daniels is such a sad day rather than a celebration. It's difficult that when I am buying cards and presents for everyone else but for Dan, I am writing a piece for the in memoriam section of the paper and ordering flowers for his grave. It's something that I will never get used to and doesn't get easier even with the years that pass.
How people react is interesting too. Obviously close friends and family are fine, they are used to Daniels being spoken of often. Some people are curious asking directly what happened but worried that they may cause me offence by doing so. I am always keen to point out that no offence will be taken and I'm glad to be able to raise the profile of the silent killer that is KD. Others are shocked but sympathetic and you can see them mentally counting their own blessings and wondering how they would cope in that situation. They often say that they wouldn't be able to but the reality is you have two options to carry on or not. Most people choose the first but they are unlikely to wear their grief like a badge of honour, more likely they quietly deal with the ups and downs of grieving. So many bereaved parents walk among us, you would be surprised. From a personal point of view, I had a traumatised 7 year old that I had no choice but to carry on for, it must be so much harder if you lose your only child. Even so the survival instinct is a strong one. Don't get me wrong some days you just want to stay in bed, draw the covers over your head and never face the world again but thankfully those times get less as the years pass.
The other group of people you come across are probably the hardest to come to terms with. They are the ones who for what ever reason can't deal with acknowledging your loss. In the days, weeks and months after Dan died, I had people who literally crossed the road to avoid speaking to me. Or when I did speak to them for the first time didn't acknowledge what had happened to the point where I have thought that they didn't know, in some cases I have told them as I really believed they didn't know but they did and that made them even more uncomfortable. At first this made me angry, that they couldn't Acknowledge it was like an insult to Daniel. Now it's makes me a bit sad that they are so scared of emotions and also a little envious because its likely that they have never lost anyone really close or they would be able to be more empathetic.
Nowt so strange as folk eh.
I think one of the best pieces of advice I can give anyone for dealing with sensitive issues such as these is take your lead from the person in question, chances are they will want to talk about it and just because you don't know what to say, don't just say nothing. It's perfectly acceptable to say just that ' I don't know what to say' yes you may feel bad but believe me you are never going to feel as bad as the person who is bereaved and they don't feel bad because of what people have said to them, they feel bad because of their loss and sometimes just someone acknowledging that is enough.
Wednesday, 15 May 2013
Bad weather and general malaise
The brief sunny interlude at Spring bank holiday was just a blip it seems. It's cold and it's rainy and it makes everyone miserable. The heating is still on mid May when the doors should be open to the garden. What's it all about.
In winter you expect it to be cold, you dress accordingly, yeah you still moan about it but that's par for the course but its spring and well it's just not spring like at all. When the sun shines I feel all sociable and motivated. I throw open the windows and make like Snow White with the help of the woodland animals and clean with gusto. I plan jobs for the outside, the lawn, the oiling of the decking, the painting of the garage doors* I have to add at this point these jobs don't always get done but I feel like I want to do them, that's the point. The garage door is my nemesis. When I moved in 7 years ago I bought the paint, a sedate Oxford blue. I still haven't painted them yet. I thought they were going last year so put the job on hold due to proposed building work. Then they were staying so got psyched up about doing them but only last week Mr UDG mooted we might have a new one so now their future is up in the air and the paint may not get used. That's if it hasn't gone off by now.
I digress....back to the weather, so today I should be at the local leisure centre before work to do an exercise class. Last week I walked up with my mat in my exercise clothes and felt very pleased with myself. Today I wallow in bed thinking its too wet and miserable to do anything. Hence it seems my mood and my motivation are inexplicably linked to the weather, which living in this country doesn't bode well for the state of my house. Maybe I was a sun goddess in a previous life or maybe I'm just a lazy bint. Hmmm jury's out on that one.
In winter you expect it to be cold, you dress accordingly, yeah you still moan about it but that's par for the course but its spring and well it's just not spring like at all. When the sun shines I feel all sociable and motivated. I throw open the windows and make like Snow White with the help of the woodland animals and clean with gusto. I plan jobs for the outside, the lawn, the oiling of the decking, the painting of the garage doors* I have to add at this point these jobs don't always get done but I feel like I want to do them, that's the point. The garage door is my nemesis. When I moved in 7 years ago I bought the paint, a sedate Oxford blue. I still haven't painted them yet. I thought they were going last year so put the job on hold due to proposed building work. Then they were staying so got psyched up about doing them but only last week Mr UDG mooted we might have a new one so now their future is up in the air and the paint may not get used. That's if it hasn't gone off by now.
I digress....back to the weather, so today I should be at the local leisure centre before work to do an exercise class. Last week I walked up with my mat in my exercise clothes and felt very pleased with myself. Today I wallow in bed thinking its too wet and miserable to do anything. Hence it seems my mood and my motivation are inexplicably linked to the weather, which living in this country doesn't bode well for the state of my house. Maybe I was a sun goddess in a previous life or maybe I'm just a lazy bint. Hmmm jury's out on that one.
Saturday, 11 May 2013
Sleep stories
Sleep... I love it. I have always loved my bed and need plenty of sleep. As a small child I didn't have a set bedtime as I would go to bed myself if I was tired and didn't stay up late. As adolescence kicked in my parents maintained a relaxed approach to my sleeping. If I was out late on a saturday they had no issues with me sleeping in on a Sunday until 3 getting up in time for my dinner. Mr Undomestic Goddess though is a different matter, after being a milkman for 20 years he can manage on as little as 3 hours sleep a time. A concept I find disturbing. Anyway maybe it's an age thing, my mom used to lie in on a sunday but now can be known to be up as early as 6 on holiday or the weekend, I fear this may be my fate.
Firstly I started with the 4 o'clocks. My eyes suddenly ping awake in the early hours and then it's as if I'm a fruit machine as all the thoughts and images start spinning behind my eyeballs rendering sleep impossible. When I finally do drop off its not long before the alarm and then I feel awful.
Secondly is what I call the wide awake club. It's when you're really tired but can't get off to sleep. You toss and turn and then start to fret that if you don't sleep soon you will exhausted tomorrow which of course is not conducive to slumber.
Both these sleep patterns are accompanied by me not being able to stay awake on the sofa to watch tv in the evening. Oh yes I used to mock my parents for always being asleep in front of the tv and could never imagine that one day it would be me. Well it is. The worst thing is when I go into a really deep sleep and actually think I'm tucked up in bed. Mr UDG is culpable in this as he often covers me with a blanket so I don't go cold. Ah how sweet I hear you say and yes it is but it also means he can watch boring bloke things on tv undisturbed. He has to suffer my wrath though when I awaken and find I am in fact not in bed and still have to go upstairs, undress, wash, brush my teeth etc. I am never amused and not a happy bunny at this effort. Then of course I am back to square one with the wide awake club and so it continues...
Wednesday, 8 May 2013
The side effect of new shoes
A lovely bank holiday weekend was had by all. So Saturday with friends we all head off to a charity old Skool disco. Please note: the new shoes are looking mighty fine and admired by all. It all started off a bit dubious, big room painted black, very dark and lots of people. Nowhere to sit or perch a drink either. They were playing jazz funk not a favourite of mine. To add insult to injury they didn't have any Bacardi so I had to drink vodka. Anyway after a few of the aforementioned vodkas things were on the up, music improved, table acquired. Had a great night, lots of tunes some I'd forgotten some I wish time had forgotten. The 12" version of pig bag was especially hard on the knees. Unfortunately the feet didn't fair as well. The new shoes causing a huge blister! No pain no gain I guess. Thank god for blister plasters is all I can say as BH Monday was spent in malverns which of course involved walking. So will I learn my lesson and wear sensible shoes in the future? Nah, aesthetic over comfort any day.
Saturday, 4 May 2013
New shoes...chemical free anti-depressants
The sun is shining, I have new shoes...all is well in my world.
I'm not sure where my love of shoes began, I have an early memory of my first Mary Janes. I would have been about 3 and they were red and I would show them to anyone, friends, family, the milkman, the postman, random passers by. The following years weren't so happy and I suffered endless traumas in shoe shops as my very narrow feet meant I could only ever have the same style shoes. They were basically a pair of Mary Janes but with a double strap and I had them in black, patent black, red, brown and navy, over and over again. Each visit to the shoe shop would be accompanied by tears and tantrums and that was just my mom. As I got older things got worse and I would only be offered masculine lace ups. My first pair of fashion shoes were red plastic platforms with a big gold buckle and I loved them. They weren't great for running in though and I still have the scars to prove it.
Maybe the frustrations of previous years led to my passion for shoes, who knows but as soon as I got my own spondoolies I spent them on shoes...lots of shoes. If I liked them I would get them in several colours (this is was definitely an early years throw back)
The new shoe experience is enhanced by a nice shoe box, I keep them to keep the shoes in and also a matching bag.
Today's newest addition to the shoe family are a nude hidden platform court. I plan to wear them tonight and I will in the finest tradition be showing them to anyone and everyone, including I'm sure later in the evening, the taxi driver.
I'm not sure where my love of shoes began, I have an early memory of my first Mary Janes. I would have been about 3 and they were red and I would show them to anyone, friends, family, the milkman, the postman, random passers by. The following years weren't so happy and I suffered endless traumas in shoe shops as my very narrow feet meant I could only ever have the same style shoes. They were basically a pair of Mary Janes but with a double strap and I had them in black, patent black, red, brown and navy, over and over again. Each visit to the shoe shop would be accompanied by tears and tantrums and that was just my mom. As I got older things got worse and I would only be offered masculine lace ups. My first pair of fashion shoes were red plastic platforms with a big gold buckle and I loved them. They weren't great for running in though and I still have the scars to prove it.
Maybe the frustrations of previous years led to my passion for shoes, who knows but as soon as I got my own spondoolies I spent them on shoes...lots of shoes. If I liked them I would get them in several colours (this is was definitely an early years throw back)
The new shoe experience is enhanced by a nice shoe box, I keep them to keep the shoes in and also a matching bag.
Today's newest addition to the shoe family are a nude hidden platform court. I plan to wear them tonight and I will in the finest tradition be showing them to anyone and everyone, including I'm sure later in the evening, the taxi driver.
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