Monday, 23 March 2009

Another "smashing" time with Mum at Woodberry

Current mood:  restless

Mum finally agreed to go out this afternoon, because she needs to get exercise...but didn't say where she wanted to go.  In fact, all she told us was where she DIDN'T want to go.  She didn't want to go to the park on a busy Sunday, she didn't want to go to the shops with no money, she didn't want to walk on the pavement for no reason...
So we drove around aimlessly for a while, then David stopped by a green space and asked Mum very politely to get out and go for a walk.  She went mad reminding him that she didn't want to walk where there were birds when she couldn't see.  So we both asked her to walk along the pavement across the road from the space, but "there was no point doing that", of course!  "So where am I supposed to take you?" David asked, exasperated.
"Woodberry." Mum said.  "I need to go and look at this cupboard."  She continued to moan all the way to the house, "It'll probably be the last time I ever go in there."
So we arrived, her ranting all the way up the garden path about what a mess the house looks from outside.
Once we got inside, things went a little crazy again.  Thankfully, I had my trusty old broken camera to record it all for you to have a laugh.  The recordings (yes, there are three this time!) are not the best though, so once again I have transcribed everything below the links.  So, let me share another day in my crazy life with you...  Enjoy!


 
DISCLAIMER: As has become customary with these recordings from my crazy life, I must throw in a warning that there's some bad language and mild violence up ahead.  As well as enough weirdness and horrid common English accents to make you split your sides laughing and/or give you headache/earache.  I will not be held responsible for any bad effect caused by listening to the recordings.  Thank you.

All recordings are currently unavailable, so you will just have to read the transcription until I find somewhere else to re-upload them.  Thanks for understanding!
We enter the house, Mum already in a bad mood.  I feel calm again, but she starts to notice faults immediately.
She points at the skirting board behind the front door.
Ooh, what's that?
David and I look down, to see more brown splatters all over the skirting board.
Oh, for Christ's sake!Mum glares at David.
More coffee!  I think you need to sack that bloke.
We walk up the hall, Mum still moaning all the time.
I was looking at Emma's house; all of her light switches are right there.She points to the wall by the front door (Actually, I believe Emma's landing light switch is by the living room door, but never mind).
I can't see at all!She juggles her glasses cases as usual, and continues into the front room.
There's a horrible smell in here.
David and I sniff the air.  I could definitely smell something even with my bad cold.  No idea what it was though, and David just shrugged at me as though he couldn't smell it.  Mum continued to moan about it though, while she tried to find a working pair of glasses.
What's that horrible smell?  I can't even see the fireplace with my glasses on.  There's a nasty smell in here.
Realising that she isn't going to get an answer, she changes the subject.  She indicates the broken fireplace on the wall.
Well, that's the fireplace that's supposed to be on that wall. And no-one wants to live with it as it is, and what the hell would you do with it without a grate?  £2000 to fix without a grate.
There's no answer to that really, so we move on rather sadly.  Walking up the hall, Mum points at the doors to the cupboards under the stairs.
This is what I want to be tongue and groove.
She walks into the kitchen, getting angry and raising her voice, pointing at a gap between two of the cupboards.
This was never done!She goes to give the replacement worktop a disapproving look, but sees that it's been covered in cardboard to try to protect it this time around.
Can't see if there's any scratches...She turns to the new "cubby hole " CD shelves in the kitchen, obviously getting ready for trouble.
Here we go...For a moment she can't think of anything to say...then she notices some wood dust on the side of the cupboard next to the cubby holes.
It's him who creates dust and doesn't clean up after himself.(Oh, didn't I mention that she's got it in for Mr Shears, the carpenter David called in to make our shelves, now too? )
They're thick, aren't they?  I didn't think they'd be that thick.
The wood for the shelves is actually the same thickness as the wooden edge-piece underneath the cupboards, but I suppose she had to think of something negative to say...
You want a board that matches the thickness - it's the only thing you can do.
Mum isn't listening though as she's walked out into the extension to see our new coat cupboard.


Christ.  Big, isn't it?David starts talking in his high-pitched fast voice, trying to defend himself before the now obviously unavoidable screaching begins.
Well, I told you how high it was and I told you how big it was!
This only makes Mum worse.
Well, I don't know until I see it.
David walks over to the cupboard, still talking in defense of the cupboard.  He points at the strange looking "extra" piece on the right hand side which is hiding a water pipe behind it.
The reason that's there, Jacqui, is that we...agreed...we couldn't...do that.No, I have no idea what he was talking about either. By now, he has opened the door and has his head inside the cupboard.
Get your head out of it.David doesn't budge.
Just...Get out the way!David finally moves aside, letting Mum see the cupboard.
It looks ridiculous.  Just as bl**dy ridiculous as it did in her picture.
(See above for the picture)
She walks over to the cupboard and starts pointing to the doors saying they should be central to the cupboard INCLUDING that strange piece that covers the water pipe beyond, so that it looks good from outside.
That should be there...  That should be there!  And then you would have room for parrot wallpaper.(Mum wanted more wallpaper on the cupboard doors inside the patterned part...)
She repeats the same thing in several different ways.
It looks like that's there, and what the hell is that to the side of it?  What the hell is this?
She points at the wall between the extension and her family history room (which this cupboard now stands up against).
Also, if I did win the lottery, which I don't even go in for, that's definitely not going to be a window back there now.
I'm not really clear why she even brings up the fact she doesn't enter the lottery.  Anyhow, I get a little confused at what happens here, as we don't get many more English words, just a lot of weird noises...
That's where I would go for a cupboard...
Not sure where she was talking about actually, as she was still standing in front of the present cupboard.
What the hell are you going to do in there?She points at the little narrow space around the corner in the cupboard.
Put the, uh, put the bl**dy...
It seems David has no clue either.  Mum continues to gaze inside the cupboard.


A whole hanging rail where a hook at the back would do.  This bit around the corner is bl**dy mad.  That's the way the extension was built.  I hate it, I hate this!  This should be there, and this should be there.
Mum is getting more and more red in the face, so David starts defending himself again, and actually makes her angrier by making her feel stupid.
I asked you if you wanted...
Mum doesn't let him finish.
I didn't understand.She slams the cupboard door shut.  David adds another defensive comment,  and Mum goes mad again.
So, because you can't be bothered to take notice...
BANG!  BANG!  BANG!
Mum slams the door of the cupboard under the stairs against the wall, making an ugly great black mark on it.
David and I stare at her with our mouths open.
Don't worry, 'cause I'm not coming back in this house again!
She heaves herself up the stairs to the first floor, me chasing after her.
I turn the recording off, and start the second tape rolling...
She flies across the landing, and throws the hobby room door open in a bad temper.  She decides that's not enough, grabs the door and rams it into the wall three times.
CRASH!  CRASH!  CRASH!
There's a dent in the wall now, and a big scuff to the door knob we bought from Homebase.
She starts looking around the room, her eyes wide and crazed.
HORRIBLE BLUE!  PALE BLUE!  What a shame there's no paint somewhere - I've dreamed of coming in here and tossing some up the wall!She runs into the box bedroom/David's office, and finds some white paint in a can.  The lid is sealed tight but, determined as ever, the crazed star of our even crazier story finds a piece of wood and attempts to prise the lid off!
Can't get it open...
Oh well, change of plan!  Obviously, this was her plan all along.   She looks me in the eye, as I stand on the landing.
I've dreamed of this!She walks into the hobby room with the stick she was attempting to open the paint can with a moment before.
SCRITCH!  SCRITCH!  SCRITCH!
She drags it along the wall with all her strength, making huge marks in the blue paint...then moves to another wall and does the same.
SCRITCH!  SCRITCH!  SCRITCH!
She hears David's footsteps below, panics and drops her stick.
He's going!
She races out of the room and down the stairs, obviously scared he's going to drive off without her.
I've got no money to get back!
She runs down the stairs, breathing heavily.
Once she gets downstairs, despite the fact that there's no sign of David, she goes back into the extension and pulls one of the doors of the coat cupboard open wide.
POP!  POP!  POP!  POP!
Four nails spray towards me, and the door swings uneasily.
Obviously surprised by her own strength, Mum slams the door shut again.
Well, wasn't it well-made?
She opens the door again, and jumps aside in shock!
BANG!  CRASH!  BANG!
It falls to the floor!
VERY WELL-MADE!  If I could do it just like that...
She goes stomping outside to the car and begins yelling at David.
OH, DEAR!  The cupboard door just fell off it's hinges just like that!
David looks at her blankly, as I follow her outside in a kind of daze.
She goes to get in the car, blocking me from getting in on the pavement side (the road tends to be busy at that time of day so I don't like trying to jump in between the traffic).
I've been dreaming of that for days.  I will never set foot in that house again.
Finally I speak, although I'm still dazed.  Excuse my horrible voice - in my defense, remember I do still have this awful cold.
Let me get in, at least...
She moves aside, and allows me to get in the car.
Then the second recording cuts, and I move on to the third.
Mum steps back out of the car doorway and continues to shout in the street.
I never have to set foot in this place again!
Then she starts to SCREACH at the top of her voice!
PICTON RUINED MY HOUSE, EVERYBODY!
Yeah, like they really care.
David mutters something.  Very clever? Or at least something to that effect.
Believing it's all over now anyway, I started shouting myself.  Yes, me.  I'm so sorry, guys.  I really don't want to disappoint you all, but I have proved myself to be the very common English girl that I am.
ACTUALLY, SHE'S RIGHT!
My voice echoes up the road, despite my bad cold and awful throat.  That's what I get for trying to teach myself to project my voice!
David then goes back in the house, giving Mum another opportunity to get in there.  I take my seatbelt back off, jump out the car and race up the path to continue recording...
Mum is still talking about the (now broken) coat cupboard.
...and it fell off!  That's your man.
She glares at David, and continues sarcastically.
It didn't take much.  £500!She walks back to the cupboard.
It's an eye-sore, an absolute eye-sore.David turns and shouts at her.
Get out, just get out!
Mum stands her ground.
BEST PLEASURE I'VE HAD!  I've been waiting for you to bring me.  God, that happened so easily!
David snarled at her.
Look, just get...  Look, I'm driving home.HUH, nice for you to call this home, father.  I don't call sleeping on the floor surrounded by mouse droppings home myself!
Now Mum panics.
I've got no money!David enjoys scaring her.
Well, you can walk then.
He grins.
She whines, and backs out in front of him.
I can't walk!  I can't walk, and you know that!Then she sees his expression, and realises he wasn't really leaving you.  So her voice turns back to her angry voice.
You know I have to come with you...
Get out!
He has to push her out into the front garden.  She starts complaining while he locks the door.
I'd like to do some more in there.
I walk back to the car, and she continues to moan as they follow me.
Very shoddy workmanship!  It broke just like that, and all I went was "boom", and it fell off its hinges!
David doesn't answer as they get in the car, and we fasten our seatbelts for the second time in five minutes.
Mum continues to winge like a young child.
I'd have liked to have done some more.  He didn't give me a chance to do some more!
I'm ashamed to say I had yet another outburst after that, but the recording cuts off there, thank goodness!  Still, if we're not going to be living there, what's the problem?  I don't know what's going to happen now, really.
We argued all the way back to Grottsville, David saying he's going to leave the house to rot, go to work abroad and leave us two here.  "Stuff you both!" he said.  Charming.  Hadn't I already endured enough?  And where exactly does he think will take him?  He's almost 62, and very few countries are interested in men of that age.
Now we're back at square one.  Nobody will discuss anything, I can't honestly see us moving there, or being able to afford to move elsewhere, which leaves me in a place where I can't/won't leave the house alone, can't get an education or a job, can't have my teeth straightened because I have no bed to come back to after two lots of surgery and nowhere to call out a doctor should I need one, can't wear what I like or make friends in the real world...  Yep, I'm right back at that darn before-mentioned first square.
If I had the courage, I'd leave home right now.  But where would I go?  I have no experience, no money, no friends or family to fall back on if the worst came to the worst...  I even thought about selling my whole pony collection this afternoon, something I've never done before.  After all, the latest addition to my herd (those ponies from the Trading Post that I mentioned before) have caused me nothing but misery.  Right now, I'm figuring out how I'm supposed to come up with the extra $7 to pay her just because she decided to ship them MIB.  I feel like just selling them the moment they come through the door, but I'd never make the money back.
And what good would the money be?  It wouldn't be enough to get myself an education.  I can't even find anywhere to get my GCSEs, and that comes before I can get into college anyways.  I'm just sick of it all.  I'll never afford to get a "sensible" education and then go to drama school on top.  Oh, dear.  Why does everything in life have to be so hard?
Well, I'm going now.  David's sneakily gone in the bathroom while I was transcribing that last recording and I figure I won't even get to brush my teeth before I go to floor-bed now.
*Huge hugs to everyone, and especially those who read/listened to this entire blog entry*
Desirée Skylark  xxx

No comments:

Post a Comment