Vicious winds, lashing rain and a grey tinted sky and what am I doing? Filling more bags with unwanted things. The weather suiting the task.

 

I'd be fibbing if I said leaving the bungalow was easy. It isn't. In fact it's sending me quite bonkers. But it is the best and sensible option. For all of us. 
Mr Horsehound will, at last, be free of me. He will be free to gad around town and country with the woman he loves
And I, at last, will live a simpler life in a smaller more affordable place with Rob.
Doesn't stop me caring though, and I do care, very much. 34 years of caring and .
sharing can't be tossed away.
I hope that when the dust has settled Mr H and myself will at least feel comfortable enough to proffer a few friendly word to each other. His new girlfriend permitting...

I went to the hospital the other day for yet another heart test. Bottom line? In a couple of weeks I'm having a Loop put in.
And, depending on what it shows, I might be inline for a Pacemaker. I can barely contain my dread!
But being the type of girl I am, I'll go with the flow. As long as my mind is working I can deal with anything

There are so many good things on the horizon...

Snooker in April on BBC2. Probably have a flutter£££.
The Great British Bake Off. I'm making one of Hollywood's pasties soon.
Britains Got Talent. Cruel I know but I love it.
The X Factor (although I'm tiring of it rapidly)
Cross Stitch projects...
Penning more poetry
Reading


Cycling around the caravan park
Simpler cooking
Spending more time with Mark. He's nearly 16 and heading for a new school in September. Excitement aint the word. We love reading together. He's a wonderful boy who always makes me happy. His enthusiasm is catching. But the thing I love most of all is, and it's very silly and selfish of me, is I can be mumsy.

 
More get togethers. BBQ type things.
Wimbledon
Royal Ascot in June (I stopped watching it when Dad died, maybe I should watch it again, have a punt maybe? Dad would approve.
Eurovision Song Contest? Only if I can arrange a party around it.
And.....Euro 2016. Another date in June/July
And while I'm watching all that my hair will look better, longer silkier, my caravan will morph into a fairy tale Tin Cottage and I will feel healthier and happier.

So my friends as I sit here in the Bungalow listening as my calor gas splutters to its death (been in a month, so not bad going) I feel hopeful. If I could do a smiley I would!
Now where's me blanket?

 

 
 

 

 

Another trip to the Tin Cottage.

The car loaded to the roof with ornaments, books, kitchenalia and our trusty old pouffe. Bit battered but still good for tired feet.
As we puffed our wqy from little room to little room I felt that this was the beginning of a new life. I admit to feeling apprehensive, after all giving up one's solid brick built home for one made of metal can be a bit mind altering.
But I've made my decision and keep to it I will.
I see my agreement to sell the bungalow as a 'gift' to Mr Horsehound, he has after all given a lot to me.
And I am by nature a generous girl and no greater love has a girl for her friend than to uproot and begin again.

I hope in the fullness of time, Mr H.and myself will be able to sit and talk in the garden of my Tin Cottage without animosity. I couldn't cope with that at all, he has always been my friend and despite behaving like a man possessed I'd still like us to be mates.

Rob is loading and unloading, making plans for around the back, decking etc etc. Already thinking about replacing the rather dire doors with stable doors. More in keeping with the country setting we now find ourselves in.
This morning it was chilly so i kept my coat on as I unwrapped precious ornaments, and while waiting for the kettle to whistle I imagined my new life....Therein.....A new rug in shades of wine and ivory, a silver coloured teapot, lots of doilies, a gonging clock, books and craft materials here and there, books on shelves, a camera to hand, binoculars, big tv, retro wireless, aluminium cookware and Monty.

Going to be a huge change for us, but I'm ready and willing, going to fling the doors open literally and metaphorically. Can't live in the past.
 The present is all I am thinking about...
We are aiming to move in mid-March.

Tomorrow furniture is being moved down to Tin Cottage, a lead light cupboard which will hold my most favoured bric-a-brac.

Now I must relax, oh yesterday I had an appointment in the cardiac clinic, I'm to have an implantable loop recorder fitted into my chest to check how my ticker is doing. The doctor I saw was imposing but reassured me everything would be alright.
I smiled. You betcha!

Now tea.....

 

Stroll to post office. Was charmed by sunlight. Much appreciated.


Spent more time last night sorting through dusty files and boxes. Black binbags stuffed to overflowing. John's office is a mess, he was supposed to be coming up to go through his belongingd, but so far zippo.
rob and myself have made progress, the garage is now home to multiple sacks of detritus. All very sad.
And although I've binned a lot I have not touched his books or photography memorabilia. Some items are sacrasanct.
However my stuff isn't.
I now own two coats and five handbags. The rest awaiting its trip to the dump. 

The bungalow feels bare, souless, even a little ghostly, but I suppose that's only natural considering what's happened. When Mr Horsehound left a bit of me left with him. 
But, as the song goes, there is a season for all things.
I'm hoping for a bright light Spring followed by a glowing calmer Summer. I won't be thinking about Autumn and Winter as I learn and embrace a new life in the caravan, I'll deal and cope with whatever they bring.

Talking of coping I have another cardiac appointment on Saturday morning. How lovely! This is for an MRA scan whereby they flood my bod with a special dye in hopes it shows up just what the heck is going on. Procedures don't bother me, I just do as i'm told and crack a few death jokes.
Then on Monday a follow up appointment to hear all the news!
My Goodness I can't wait to get all this behind me. I have a new life to get on with and I've already made plans with Mark to cycle around my new home, the riverside village Holiday Park, taking in the scenery and scaring the life out of the wildfowl.
He now reminds me of it every time I see him. What a great boy.......

Anyway I must now fly...Have Minestrone to make and as the sun continues to bright up the bungalow kitchen I feel very optimistic.
 

Up to my eyes in dampness.
Mould everywhere.
Getting ready to move on.
And as I filled black sacks with stuff from twenty years
of bungalow living my wounded heart filled with good blood and carried me.
My husband visits occasionally so we can discuss estate agents and in both our eyes, sadness.
I can't go into our sob ridden exchanges suffice to say we come eventually to a sort of quiet resolution.
I hope in the fullness of time (whatever that is) we reach a nicer place where Mr H and I can look at each other without blubbing.
Later on, much late on, probably sometime in the summer, I would be willing to hold out the adult hand of 'understanding' and maybe engage in grown up talk with Mr H and his girlfriend. But I've been informed that the girlfriend wouldn't be willing to engage in any such action. Which I find strange considering she'll be in a far nicer frame of mind. Money always has that effect...
But I mustn't be bitter. Does one no good. My whole self is concentrating on two things: Going to the cardiac clinic being one and managing the whole house moving experience. Rob is being superman, as usual, and inbetween working, hanging out with his son, he's helping me empty rooms.
Once the bungalow is sold I'll be able to concentrate on making a new life with him and Monty. Aint gonna be a doddle but we will do our best.
Our aim is to be out of here and in our caravan, Two Ducks, by the middle of March. The estate agent, Neil, will handle the viewings.

When I'm ready I will probably start a new blog.....the Bungalow days are over!
Until then I'll post when I can, I get a wee bit tired now so try to manage my time efficiently.
I've missed blogging, it has always been therapeutic and oh boy do I need therapy!

Now I eat....

Inside my shell
it smells
not of the sea
but of me

Inside my shell
it's bright
not artificial
but sun light

Inside my head
there's sound
not in a dark corner
but all around 

 

Happy New Year All x

My 2016 began rather gloomily, I wont go on about it (for once) but considering all the shifts and shunts that  my life has endured recently it's hardly surprising that I didn't pop any corks at midnight...

But, being the trouper I am, albeit a skinny one, I refuse to allow the break-up of the Horsehound marriage and a big Stroke to totally dampen my spirits.
New possibilities are on the horizon as regards where I'll be living come March. Huge scary changes are for sure but I am Fred's daughter and I wont let him down by going under. Nope.

Mr Horsehound's behaviour is problematic and very upsetting but he is entitiled to the good life too, I only hoped I'd be able to keep our bungalow. But to start afresh we need cash. So the bungalow goes.

But whatever Spring brings I'll keep my hair long, scatter floral cushions about the caravan and have chums over for buffets.

I'm frying liver tonight and for pudding a slice of homemade banana bread....



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