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Tuesday, 22 November 2016

DIARY OF MOVING AGAIN BY FIONA CUMMINGS


Good afternoon Bloggets. An early start for us all again today, Teen left for work at twenty past six and Hub at 6.45. Teen came in at lunch time which was about eleven and Hub won’t be in until nine tonight. He again is miles away. A long train journey. I just hope with the dreadful floods we are having in the north of England; his train won’t be delayed.

 

It has rained for two solid days it’s awful. I feel so sorry for those who once again are facing devastation having to leave their houses. Once this has happened you can’t get insurance either, unless you pay four times the amount. There are still people out of their houses from last year’s floods. The world is going crazy and people snigger when I say it but it’s caused by fracking and bombings. I am sure of it because in the past whenever there has been some kind of warfare overnight hits somewhere, something tragic has happened as far as the climate is concerned.

 

I think of this land as a beautiful oil painting. So much green grass, wild flowers and golden trees, some with red leaves. The sky is the most incredible blue, a blue we wouldn’t even recognise now. Innocent animals are featured discreetly in the background. And years later, humans start to spoil the beautiful picture by splashing black splodges on it and walking over the picture as it’s on the ground. Their muddy boots stain the painting. An artist comes along and tries to recover it. By doing so he has had to paint over the wild flowers and a few of the animals. Those colours are sadly missed on the painting.

 

 And then a rip, in the canvas. Another person tries to repair the ripped painting, but it’s obvious that it’s damaged and by repairing the damage, a row of trees is wiped out, never to return.

 

 Soon the corners are all turning up and before we know it, the stunning landscape painting is gone and all that is left is the new slab of concrete that has been replaced over the grass where the painting lay!

 

We are killing our land. Killing our people. And what do we do about it? Nothing. What can we do about it? I guess firstly don’t go to war. Then take care of nature and what’s left of it will take care of us.

 

 Alright that is that part of my mind read today, now for the other side or a portion…  Last night I had to reply to my joiner by text. You know how I feel about my IPhone? Not long had it and it really doesn’t understand my accent. I wanted to say one word so I should have written it, well I did in the end as I got the fright of my life…

 

Hub Teen and myself were watching TV when I wanted to write to the man, the word perfect. Easy, right? One word. So much was going on. Sound from the TV, Little Fella was trying to naughtily climb on my knee without his Daddy hearing him and Waggatail was threatening to be sick again, you know that dreadful sound a dog makes just before they hurl?

 

Well, my phone spoke the word I wrote to the joiner just as I spoke to Hub but our conversation was quickly interrupted… I hadn’t written perfect. Now you tell me how this word sounds like perfect? I’d only went and wrote… Oh heck, cringe alert?

“Vagina”

 

To my friend the other day I was to write we have lift off. As you do… Of course, it wrote I, am. Pissed off.

And last week I sent my Son a text saying You are a sweetheart.

He wrote back.

“Mum. I think you better read what you sent me?””

Oh, no, not again?

I had written to my boy.

“You are a

 retard!”

Oh, my goodness? Hub thinks I should stop using dictation on my IPhone. Well this morning I had a great chat with my fab school pal I think I sent about ten texts. I don’t know why we don’t just call each other, but we text like a game of tennis.  Whereas her texts are perfect English, mine sound like I am drunk. Also, if I were to write four or five words, then I would type. Though the IPhone is a flat screen, we just learn where the letters are and though we don’t see the screen, we tap the glass listen and type the same as you do. But I text like I write my blogs, hahaha, they go on forever, and it takes so long, at the end of the seventh or eighth text, I told my friend I had white finger and I was going to use dictation. Oh boy, why did I do that? She’s a good friend though very understanding of me. Haha. And we had a great catch up.

 

Now the mysteries of the IPhone. My Husband stupidly left his work phone on his desk in the office yesterday. Thankfully today his colleague kindly phoned me to let me know she had it and was charging it. but it was driving her crazy because of course we have speech on our phones and it was chatting away on his desk. It was kind of her to let us know though as Hub was worried he had somehow dropped it somewhere. Mind you, it’s on its way out. Anyway, Hub just bought a new IPhone as he doesn’t have a lap top of his own, and he is really great at using the IPhone and his work are getting strict now so if Hub would go for example on Amazon at nights using the work lap top, he was getting logged out of that particular website because it wasn’t in work time. At work, he never has time to browse the web but at nights especially coming up to Christmas time, he wants the freedom to be able to go on line and sites other than work. Anyway, long and short of it. I saved his work mobile number under Hub work. I saved his new home number under Hub home…

 

So, all week, when I text his home number and when I phone his home number, I’m getting through to his work phone.

 

And today on the train he texts me to let me know he was safely on the train, and it read on my phone, caller Hub work…

 

Now his work phone is nowhere near him. I couldn’t call him as it was going through to his desk at work where his work phone was, though I was telling my phone to call Hub home.

 

He called me and I asked him why was my phone saying he was calling from home phone? He said it must have something to do with I message or something. Well so now I can never contact his home mobile? It’s crazy.

 

Today has gone too fast. My poor Waggatail isn’t well. She has been sick yesterday and today. She is in her bed now. I may have to starve her tonight. I hate doing that. Unless I make her some scrambled eggs. Or brown rice. There is nothing that smells worse than dog sick. Thank goodness for wooden floors. Mind you, you should see me trying to find it? Because dogs don’t just be sick in one place. Oh, no, they have to tour the laminate. I got her out but all along the way she was threatening to be ill again. Thankfully she wasn’t. It was all noise and no action.

 

Well four small boxes of ornaments I have packed today. It’s just like moving house again. In those four boxes? All of my elephants, Pegasus, fairies and angels. Oh, and my beautiful Beatrix Potter characters. I have no boxes left the rest are in the loft and no way I’m going up there. So, the rest are just going to have to be placed elsewhere until my work is done.

 

It’s a nightmare. My joiner can’t come and do my doors and shower until next Thursday, so one full week without a shower? So, we have a bath, but a shower is so quick and handy. My plasterer comes this Thursday. As for my painter? He said he won’t come until the doors are fitted. Well, why can’t he come twice two half days? I want my tree up before the first. I text the painter to ask for him to come two half days and he has not replied. I have a bad feeling this time about him. His response yesterday was really odd. Like not in this world? Gosh, I hope he is OK? Hub reminded me that he is often odd on the phone but when he gets here he is alright.

 

Right, I’m going now to move some more stuff. My blue and white china this time…. May be a while. Before I go some words.

A smile is the most beautiful ornament that any lady can wear.

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