Monday, 18 August 2014

'Ribena? Are you okay?'

I don't know why I insist on responding to Hubby with 'Yes, I am fine' each time he gets out of bed and comes to check on me after I wake up early on a morning.  He will always ask and I will always respond with the same thing.  It doesn't annoy me; after all he is just worrying because he loves me and I am more than eternally grateful for that, I just am amazed that he continues to ask 8 years down the line.  I may worry that his worrying is going to cause a heart attack but that will more than likely be caused by his refusal to eat all things bad for him and no greens.

I am on leave this week, all of it using up excess hours worked rather than annual leave which is great if we don't worry about me not having time to take all of my annual leave before the new leave year starts.  I can see a 3 week break over Christmas and New Year on the horizon.

Beautiful B has officially moved out even if all of her junk hasn't.  Her promise to come and take all of the junk to the recycling plant didn't happen yesterday as 'she had worked 2 long days and deserved a lie-in' and so she 'promises' it will be removed on Tuesday.  

'It's not like I need to use the cupboards or the spare room' was the convenient reason she found for me not to comment on her unfulfilled promise; little does she know that today a desk and shelf unit are being delivered.  She more than likely knows I have lots of things to fill her wardrobes up with but assumes that can wait which is proof alone that she doesn't know her mother all that well because I have things lined up to fill them.

My OCDishness is itching to get the spare room sorted, especially the wardrobes because I want to have a tidy space for everything instead of cramming everything as neatly as possible in ever more stuffed wardrobes in my bedroom.  Things such as the box that holds all the spare extension cables and light bulbs can go to the back of the cupboards in the spare room as they will be needed very rarely instead of being in the cupboard downstairs that I use daily.  This all makes perfect sense to me (and to Rachel) but not to Beautiful B.

My house feels tidier, my kitchen isn't randomly filled with dirty mugs and dishes that Beautiful B has brought downstairs after they have lived in her room for more than a day, the back garden is always clean (though Hubby would probably argue I do not need to go out there armed with a little plastic bag every time one of the dogs ventures outdoors - I disagree), the bathroom isn't constantly in use and I now have more clean towels than I can shake a stick at.

Having said that, you will note that I haven't mentioned that I am missing her.  Probably because I get a lump in my chest if I think about how I miss hearing the (too loud) TV from her room, her requests for lifts in the car to places, her constant moan that there is nothing to eat in the house...etc.

I cannot argue that I am enjoying the peace in a large way and that I enjoy her visits when she comes to pick up the Fredster after she finishes her shift at work and that I laugh inside at having to make her go home when she picks him up because she would chat with me for hours and then have to go home far too late at night to be walking home even armed with a big(ish) dog.

But the house is quiet and while I love that I also miss the noise if you know what I mean.

I am loving the house being tidy, nice and clean though - it sings to my heart every time I walk into a room.

And.....after a couple of days my dining room will be restored because the spare room will be spare no more and will become my office and maybe then I won't miss the noise of a (too loud) TV coming from that room.

Love you baba....til all the stars fall out of the sky xxx

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