Tag: Journey

Back To Builders!

Quite frankly, one knows that things are bad when the builder appears – little boy like with sweating palms and in shorts – and timidly presents a bill for an exorbitant and completely unexpected amount.  One knows that things are truly catastrophic when close inspection, of said bill, reveals that many completed tasks have actually been missed off and the figures recorded are so conservative, that he must be subsidising the project! 

“Pay the builder!” I hear you shriek – and I don’t blame you.  Yes, he has confirmed his status as a guardian angel and I will pay him as soon as I can, without having to sell a child or an organ to raise the sum. 

The lesson to be learnt is one of trust; there really are some wonderful people out there.  Don’t allow experience to blind you to the diamonds amidst the dirt.

 

 

Thanks for the Swastika

On Wednesday morning, my carpenter alerted me (at 8am!) to the fact that someone had put ”mayonnaise or something” on my car.  He is young and was upset, so details weren’t sought.  Suffice it to say, aside from the ketchup, barbecue sauce and mayonnaise dumped on the bonnet, a swastika – etched in mayonnaise – was graffiti-ed on a passenger window.  (It was discovered by my children; a particularly nice touch.)

As utterly disgusting and appalling as the whole episode was, it was a blessing.  Firsthand, we have witnessed the amazing generosity, kindness and thoughtfulness of the folk who live in our community.

As soon as they were made aware, the police began house-to-house investigations, builders hopped into vans and began touring the area for evidence and culprits, neighbours have been popping in with gifts, encouragement and support ever since AND our heating engineers presented us with a gorgeous handcrafted candlestick.

So, instead of writing about the glorious restored stained glass windows – watch this space – the news is that incredible kindness and blessing can come from possible discouragements.  Thank you to you who proved that.

Only Time Will Tell!

The comfort of the familiar (whether good, bad or indifferent), cannot be over-estimated or over-valued.  City living with its pollution, over-population and frenetic activity, retains its appeal.  Heart attack-inducing levels of stress, little room and isolation can – and do – offer security.

As bizarre and disconcerting as the situation currently presents itself, coastal living with wide open vistas, a healthy pace of life and smiling strangers, is appallingly alien.  Shell shocked and bereaved, I cower at home – unless forced out by “the school run” – surrounded by boxes, builders and bedlam.  My skin prickles whilst my heart simultaneously sinks and races uncontrollably, whenever I recall that this is not a momentary aberration; this is my life.  Is this the mental state described by Stockholm syndrome?

Obviously, eventually, this too will become familiar, comfortable, acceptable; but, moving is, truly, a life-changing (potentially person-shattering) experience.  Be warned!