Alluring fine figure of a woman

So I have a week without the munchkin as she goes camping for a week with the other Young Women from the church youth group and other youth groups in this area.  Historically I have scheduled this annual week, my only week) to the rafters and been out dancing and seeing buddies or working on huge projects around the house.  One year I took a few days to decorate Missy’s room.  Another year it took me two days to dig out all the trash from her room.  Swings and roundabouts.  Other years I have done gardening or garage projects or donated time to a valuable cause or two.

This year, her room is tidy and just needs a bit of a go round with the vacuum cleaner.  It is decorated already.  I have two blinds to install, one on the stairwell and one in the spare room so that the neighbours don’t continually get a shock as I am not particularly careful about being robed in our own home and sometimes nosey people cop an eyeful.

But this time I am tired.  I am also superbly alluring as in the past couple of weeks I have broken out in blisters all along my legs and now on my eyes.  So the probability of dating is off the cards right now until this calms down.

Either I have used a product which doesn’t agree with me – there are a couple of candidates – or I need to nap, lots.  I’m going to go with the napping option I think.  I have Netflix, takeaway menu’s, healthy fridge food and the ability to mimic a sloth when required.  I think I’m set.

Apart from now I’m thinking about that grout in the bathroom and how I don’t like it and how I have time to sort it out now.  And the garden needs mowing.  The hedges need taking down a few feet in the back garden, the shed # 2 needs a weathertight roof.  And the floor in the living room could do with a sand and varnish.  And the hallway needs painting, and the ironing needs to be put away, and I need to do some paperwork.  And I could do with getting all the tools back to the shed.  And I haven’t investigated the loft yet apart from sticking my head up there and saying “Huh, that looks pretty full”, and I have to go over some quotes for driveway stuff.

Otherwise though, I think I will get a bit of a nap schedule going.  Hopefully.

 

 

Divorce, why not just Single?

Why on forms for absolutely anything do I have to keep saying divorced instead of single (again)?

Phew, the Decree Absolute arrived which to those who haven’t had this experience means that the divorce is finalised.  I am now a single lady again.  I think I’ll set up kissing booths at all the town shows locally, I’ll perhaps dance on a table or two, and/or perhaps settle back and read a book.  I wish I could rest for a while but the kid was supposed to mow the lawn each week and it hasn’t been done for a month so I ended up mowing that on top of all the other jobs around the house.  The new marital status is a tad discombobulating but satisfying none the less.  I’m going to let this new status sink in for a while.

What I don’t understand is why on forms for quotes for car, house, life insurance or any form in general, there is a section where it asks your name and then asks your matrimonial status, are you married, cohabiting, separated, divorced, single.

Do I for the rest of my life have to keep ticking divorced?  Why not single?  What difference does it make to my risk factors and driving history?  What difference does it make to my life insurance?  Why do I have to keep being reminded of all that went on each time I fill in a form?  How does it affect premiums?  How does it validate or invalidate the information provided?  What stinking difference does it make?  If you have any insight into this matter, please share.

 

Somewhere between here and infinity

If all your peace of mind is gone, and is replaced by hypothetical money worries, you need to speak with your friends.

Don’t you love friends who talk you down from the emotional ledge?  (The correct answer is yes, yes we do love those friends).  I’ve been using much of my spare time to ponder next steps now that we are in the privileged position of being in credit for the first time in almost ever, and for the first time since becoming a fully fledged adult taking care of adult responsibilities.  For clarity, it’s not much in credit but there is a plus sign not minus on the ol’ bank account and that’s a good enough start for me.

When I was working toward bringing credit agreements down to a zero balance, there was a definite goal, a specific figure had to be reached for that to be successful, there was a stopping point.  While the task was immensely difficult, the actual ability to quantify the required outcome was simple.  Keep paying for stuff until there is no more to pay.  Reducing to a nought.  Simple to keep straight, eh.  If there was more than a nought on the balance of the credit agreement, I wasn’t there yet and had to keep going.  Simple.

What has had me vexed is the next step.  The next baby step.  It has kept my mind occupied while I pondered, cogitated, and strategized.

Now that the little number is increasing there is no ceiling, no natural end goal.  Numbers go up to infinity plus one as any clued up 8 year old will tell you.  It vexes me because there is no way to know how much is enough.  How much will we need to have set aside to get by in the next month, year, few years, decade, until retirement or until the end of my natural life.  There is no figure.  It will always be too little.  It will always be more than we had.

With no natural end result my mind has been in a spin.  It has in actuality been quite a little more difficult than dealing with paying down credit.  At least if we had almost nothing we knew what we could do with our little porridge pot.  At least if the money ran out we knew or at least hoped that we had food storage and petrol in the car and the bills were paid.  Although awfully difficult, there were specifics and I am a lady who loves specifics.  I need to know the end from the beginning and if I don’t then all merry emotional hell breaks loose.  Uncertainty does not sit well with me, never has, likely never will.

So, all merry emotional hell has been breaking loose as a consequence of feeling somewhat untethered.  Which is ridiculous.  How can success make a person uneasy?  It’s daft.  I felt like a fool.  I’d met a target, a stretch target as we like to say at work, and yet I was managing feelings larger than before I started.

Anyway, with a sky’s the limit, no end in sight, don’t know how much is enough mind-set I wasn’t feeling very settled.  Until in walks a buddy called Sinead, who herself was hot on the heels of a friend called Mel.

When I was in a tailspin and worrying out loud “what if the roof falls off?”, Mel had quizzically looked at me and said “you have house insurance”.  I slapped my forehead, of course I have insurance, of course if there is a disaster at the home not of my doing and that I cannot fix myself I can rest well knowing we are covered.  It soothed my troubled heart.  That worked for a few days.

Then I went on to fretting on the topic of “how much is enough to have set aside and when do I need to have it by?” because bills have due dates, don’t you know!  I was and still am in a due date mentality.

After confiding in Sinead in the corridor at Church between classes (sorry, missus!) who had only congratulated us on getting to where we were, she came up with the plan of having an account with a specific goal or figure in mind, like £500 for example, and when that is achieved, that is full.  I’ll have done it, it would be completed.  Then open another goal with a slightly increased figure in mind, work toward that and when that reaches the pre-determined figure, I’ve succeeded in that too, and it is done.  Then do it again and so on.  Effectively, we cannot determine the future but we can set goals and work toward them and tick them off when they are completed.  Is this making any sense?  Add a finite factor to an infinite problem.

It had the immediate impact of settling my troubled heart.  How simple.  How insightful of her to realise I wasn’t faux-probleming and that this really was a big deal to my family.  To both these ladies I doff my hat and say thank you in writing as well as in person.  Complex worries had simple solutions, these ladies comprehended the worries and helped by suggesting ways through.  How beautifully hearted of them.  Aren’t they lovely?

I was told a few years ago that someone perceived me to be a Solution Oriented Optimist.  Someone who could see the genuine problem, review, decide, act and stay positive when possible and even stay positive when highly improbable but never deluded.  Their opinion of my was a surprise because I knew what went round in my head at pace to get to the Solution they saw in front of them.  I think this experience over the past couple of weeks has fallen in to this category, without my friends I couldn’t see the solution.  They helped me peep through the fog of worry.  A fog which was of my own making but real to me none the less.  A solution has been formatted and we are making great headway.  Thanks for listening while I got this out of my head and on to electronic paper so to speak.

DEBT FREE AT LAST!

Debt, significant debt, followed me for decades but I just made the final payment! *Pulls kilt over head and screams FREEDOM!*

Only gone and blinking done it! Decades of debt finally all gone, all paid down, every penny. I await a bill for some car repairs but otherwise and aside from a mortgage and regular bills, I owe nobody anything. The money in the bank is mine to do with as I please. I cannot remember back when this was the case previously. It has been my constant companion, my lullaby at night, my alarm call in the morning, it has been my travelling companion and as close to me as my own heartbeat. It has been a motivation to focus on what matters. We had a good life none the less but this is a legacy I didn’t want to pass to the next generation. I wanted the next generation to be free to take chances and be bold if they choose to be. It would have been easy to pay off minimums for the rest of my life and ignore the freedoms afforded to those who are not thus shackled. Easy. The hard decision was to live up to what I though was right for us. To actually decide that my life work until it was completed was to be free of things which erode my freedom to choose, and debt was right up there at the top. Each month it would eat away at my disposable income. It was a constant reminder of mistakes made. It annoyed me.

If you are minded to make the same decision and become debt free, hats off to you.

If you are minded to make a different decision and stick with minimum payments, more power to your elbow.

Shakespeare in Hamlet wrote:

“Neither a borrower nor a lender be; For loan oft loses both itself and friend, And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. This above all: to thine ownself be true,”

The whole phrase resonated with me but it’s the “This above all: to thine ownself be true” part which always rang in my ears since my days at the Provo Missionary Training Centre (MTC) and our District Leader, David Muntinga would repeat this phrase out loud to himself frequently. It stuck like an earworm and shaped my personal philosophy. So, thanks Dave!

My philosophy is based on strength of character, freedom to choose, kindness where possible, resilience to weather the storms, and a passion to embrace opportunities.

I think the experiences we have gone through as a family, particularly in the last 4.5 years should act as a cautionary tale to young people making life choices!

At any point we can make a different decision and choose a different path. The principle is called Agency. We all have it and it is like a muscle in the body, we either use it and it strengthens or we don’t and it weakens. Making a different decision feels awkward, clumsy and ungainly. It is not a pretty sight at first but I liken it to watching a class of 4 year old children learning ballet who look like cats on roller-skates at first vs that same group 5 or 10 years later with a gracefulness which is inspiring. Work through the kittens on roller-skates phase, it doesn’t last forever.

If I had my time over, these are some of the things I wish I’d adopted earlier.

  • Choose your path of study – does it get you where you need to be for your next life steps? Does it open or close doors?
  • Choose your career well – will it provide for you and your dependents. The higher qualified you are, the more freedom there is to make your own schedule. Qualify young, qualify highly.
  • Choose your partner well – if you choose to have a partner do they have complimentary goals and philosophies, are they equally carrying the load, are they easy to be around, can you talk about the specifics of budgeting without fighting or someone becoming moody?
  • Choose your financial strategy early in life – are you a spender, are you a saver, what did your parents do and did it work for them, if you don’t know about money, learn! There are endless resources available online or in your library. How many hours can you put in to your career. Do you have other priorities which draw away your attention. Is your strategy working for you?
  • Choose to budget – know what is coming in and what is going out. Know the dates of payments. Write it down.
  • Choose to recognise the true cost – I mentally add the time away from my family to earn the money and the tax already taken by the government into the cost of the product and think to myself “is it still worth it?” Conversely, if you have financial woes and plenty of possessions, know their value and sell them! Generate revenue, get back some of the cash and pay down expenses.
  • Choose to find the best deals for you – as contracts come to an end, shop around. As birthdays come up, buy early and allow time for shipping at a reduced rate. As utility prices fluctuate, move deals or suppliers. As tools become needed for a DIY project check the internet vs the high street prices and make good choices.
  • Choose to cancel duff subscriptions – FREE MONEY! Who doesn’t love free money. That’s what it feels like when you find a subscription you’d forgotten about on your statement and cancel it down.
  • Choose to continue learning and growing – there will be wise people around you in your life, listen as they chat, ask questions when appropriate, learn from them, use them as a mentor.
  • Choose to ask for help – if you are in over your head, ask for help. Call the companies and tell them. Tell a friend. Approach organisations who manage these situations daily. You are in it on your own, your choices got you here and your choices are going to get you out of it, but if it all gets too much and you need expert help, ask.
  • Choose to build a reserve – if you are debt free, build a slush fund, a reserve, a cushion, whatever you want to call it, to fall back upon in tough times. Tough times always come. It’s prudent to have done what you can to make those times a little easier.

My experience has reached the Build A Reserve phase. It is quite exciting to build rather than be repairing. Feels completely different and it is actually a little scary which is silly. What if I do the next phase wrong! Anything new can be daunting so I choose to push through, carry on learning, carry on listening and carry on trying to make good choices. I may never rival the likes of a billionaire, people who I do not envy at all, they worked hard for what they have and I am pleased for them, but I can build from this point forth and can be pleased that I got my little family this far in the journey. It is hard. Oh so difficult in ways that I cannot find words to articulate. It is possibly one of the most challenging experiences of my life. I’m hoping that the effort one day feels worth it. Right now it is all a little raw and a little new so I have to let it settle in to the new normal before I can speak on that with any degree of confidence. This is my new Kittens On Roller-skates phase!

Now hopefully you’ve had a charmed life and never have to consider much of the above. You people who are adulting successfully have been a quiet inspiration over the past few years so thank you.

Unpalatable Conversations

London had a rough few days and arrests are being made in my home town. There’s a strong narrative in the air.

Tricky, innit.  The desire to be reasonable and civilised while feeling emotional at extremists rampaging through the Capital.

Like half the people I know, I was born in East London but grew up in a town called Barking which is near London.  If London and Essex were one of those circular Venn diagrams it would be the intersection of the two circles.  It is smack bang in the middle of all the troubles at London Bridge and arrests on Saturday 3rd June 2017 and in the days since.

My social media feed and my conversations with friends and family are filled with two narratives, often simultaneous but sometimes polarized.  The conversations flow around “Kill them, hang ’em, bang ’em up, ship ’em back to where they came from” verses “we have to find a way to weed out and deal with the radicals and those who contaminate the conversation”.

My view, I believe the police union representative yesterday during a televised interview who said the conversation around increasing police numbers by 2020 will only bring us back to pre 2010 levels which was just before funding cuts and anyone who says otherwise is lying.

Police are pulling double shifts, hospitals are maxed, much of what is known centres around responding – and they are responding fabulously, hats off – rather than having capacity to get ahead of the problems we are experiencing in society.

When the IRA were bombing London, they had a clear ideology to unite Northern and Southern Ireland and self govern.  That was something whether you agreed or not which was tangible and could be a yes or no answer.

The pickle we face nowadays is supposedly to do with imposing an oppressive ideology upon a free nation or punishing those who live in liberty – and that’s never going to fly.

Have you met people from London, whether native or new?  Have you met people from Barking where many of the arrests are occurring?

Barking bloomed in the 50’s and 60’s as a new neighbourhood for the cleared East London overcrowding and slums.  It was a beautiful town, green, spacious, tremendous infrastructure and industry.  It was almost nirvana.  Since mass overflow immigration in the past 20 years seeping in to the town from Central London, it is starting to look worn and no longer British.  The original locals are not pleased with these negative changes.

The people who populated Barking and Dagenham had just endured the Blitz and survived two back to back world wars.  They’re not soft.  They’re really hard as nails and haven’t had anything against which to fight for quite some time.  They’re funny, humorous, entrepreneurial, hard working, fun loving and family oriented. Unfortunately for those who seek to oppress Londoners, you got the backs up of people who call it home.

So while I can understand the sentiment of the hang ’em high brigade, I’m going to go with supporting our Police officers as they operate within the framework of existing and suitable laws and try and be a voice of “yes, those folks who have separated themselves and wish to cause harm to the population need to be dealt with, but not with such vitriol, not yet” for the next while.

But when the blood is pumping that’s a tricky ask.

The New Normal

Life is normal for the first time in 4 decades and I think I’m becoming a fan.

So much has changed and is changing for the better (knock on wood) that the ease of the transition has been a surprise.  Sure, I slogged my guts out for weeks straightening the houses – and dropped a dress size in the process thank you very much – and there is still a lot to do, there will always be a lot to do, but the new normal is starting to sink in and I think I like it.

I have a nomadic heart so the idea of staying put for the next 25 years was a huge adjustment.  It vexed me and demanded my emotional attention but the concern, and it was concern, is dissipating now.

We have painted walls and we have fresh, new carpet.  We have a place for almost everything but I know those places will be altered in due course, I still have to put up the blinds but that is much harder than it looks, particularly when you drill where the brackets should go only to find loo roll, toilet tissue paper, padding out the void behind the wallpaper!

But the house is pretty easy to live in.  Some houses work, others don’t.  Rentals generally don’t work unless you go for a fancy one.  Invariably they were purchased by the owner because they were cheap, and they were cheap because they are difficult to live in.  This one works.  According to Missy “the flow” is right which I think means how easy it is to move around a house and use the spaces available.

The problem I have is that there are too many kitchen cupboards and I keep forgetting where I put my items so I have to go on a cupboard opening hunt for the items I need every evening while I mutter “D’oh, for the love of Sundays!”.  I find it amusing.

When the summer comes I’ll empty and repair the sheds, decide what we are keeping and chucking or selling, jet wash and treat all the wood in the garden on the deck and the fences and sheds, I’ll get a new hatch put in to the loft with a pull down ladder to make access to the roofspace less arduous.

Actually, if I do the loft hatch first, all the bits laying around which don’t have a home yet can be put away and that’ll really break the back of finishing this thing.

It’s never going to be in Country Living or Homes & Gardens but I can Pinterest he heck out of this and make it work for us and be a cozy place to be when we don’t have to be somewhere else.

It’s normal now to drive through the neighbourhood, to say hi to the neighbours and stop to chat with them for a while.  They’re all lovely so far.  It’s normal to sit in the back garden in the sun and read a book for a few minutes when I get in from work, it’s normal to look out of the kitchen window while I do the washing up, it’s normal upon arriving home to call up the stairs to Missy who will almost invariably be in her room and ask her to come downstairs and pick up after herself.  I love that we’ve been there long enough for me to have made it untidy and tidied it up again.  I love declaring “This kitchen looks like a pig pit!!!” and quickly doing a couple of bits and it’s back to looking good again.

Life as such isn’t easy, we all still have to work hard to earn a crust, and we still have the chance to get involved with things which matter to us, and we still have friendships to maintain and enhance, and we have tired days and energetic days, it isn’t easy but it can be made easier than it would have been.

I don’t recall ever having had normal before, I think I’m becoming a fan.

My Curly Haired Baby Finishes 3-16 School. 

16 year old kids are ready to leave school, I however am not ready. I am a hot mess.

OK, so I might have been a hot mess last night. I might have managed to keep my “I am so pleased for you, congratulations sweetie” composure as Missy dropped the news that she leaves school officially on Wednesday lunchtime. The penny dropped. I suddenly twigged that my little curly afro haired baby who’d been wearing a school uniform for over a decade would be finished with uniforms as she enters study leave for her exams. My curly haired baby who looked at me so doe eyed in those first days of school was now laughing at me getting misty eyed as she talked about the final ever classes with her favourite teachers and how they were taking pictures with the students and giving them pep talks. My child is a child to me. Sure, the world sees a 5′ 10″ young woman who is capable and confident but I see my baby fresh out the hospital or in her oversized polo shirt with a logo. They see someone doing really well in the sciences and I see Chip and Biff early reader books. They see someone who stands her ground and I see someone who needed defending. 

She is ready, I am not. 

After this summer, adulthood looms. She is going to be magnificent and rock everything she sets her mind to. I will have to continue letting her move away and acclimatise into opportunity and responsibility.  My whole mandate for 16 years has been to let her be free enough to be a child, safe and loved. Now my mandate is changing and it is happening so quickly that it is difficult keeping up but I will get there.  She still has two more years of school but is more like junior college where they’re more autonomous. My baby is no longer a baby and it has come as a surprise. 

I am often behind the emotional curve, this is nothing new, no major surprises. I am very pleased with the woman she is becoming and look forward to standing back and observing her in adulthood in a few years, but not yet. I need a little more time.