Friday, 14 August 2009

Home again, home again...

Today I have been mostly playing one of those little games you get in the more expensive Christmas crackers. You know the sort: lots of square tiles that slide around, with one space in the grid free, and a picture printed on them, and you have to make them fit the puzzle.

Only I've been doing it with furniture and boxes, in three dimensions. Four if you count time... I'm not really meant to do any heavy lifting, and I have to take lots of breaks. But there has been progress and I don't think I've done myself any permanent damage.

I think we might just manage to make this work even with the Ghastly Items of Excess Furniture that the landlord is now refusing to remove. We might have to get rid of the Charming Cupboard that Intrepid Anthropologist bought, back when we thought various larger bits would be leaving in a matter of days or weeks. That would be a shame, but we'll cope somehow. Things are taking shape a bit and though there is still much work to be done I can see that I will have the music room ready to teach in by September.

I remain upset by the whole affair: there are many things I am willing to overlook, and I understand that the house will never match my conceptions of perfection, but to me, saying you will remove something and then changing your mind is a pretty serious breach of trust. And I don't deal very well with breaches of trust regarding housing. I've been trying to forgive, trying even to pray for the landlord and letting agent, and all I seem to be able to come up with is along the lines of "Please let them see that we are right, please let them stop being idiots and do what they said they would instead of fobbing us off with excuses..." And then I feel small and sad, because as far as trespasses go this is pretty small beans and I'm so awfully petty I can't even see past my own indignation. Maybe instead I should pray to have a more loving, less fearful heart, though it was wanting to give them the benefit of the doubt that stopped me asking them to put their offers in writing in the first place. More fool me, with a cherry on top.

I walked the mile and a half to Long Walk Church this morning to go to Morning Prayer and nobody was there; usually there is the vicar and two or three others. Door was locked, too. I hope they are all okay. There wasn't a notice on the door other than the usual one with times of services and prayers; perhaps the main noticeboard had something and I didn't see it. They don't have any way to contact me if things are canceled and may not have thought to anyway as I haven't been attending very long or very regularly.

With a bit of luck, by this time next week I'll have a desk.


Grandmère Mimi said...

Ah, moving. We haven't done that in 26 years. The only time we do a top job of clearing out the detritus is when we move, so imagine the amount of trash we have on hand.

I'm sorry about the broken promises with the excess furniture. Breaches of trust bother me a great deal, especially breaches of trust by those I consider friends. The rental agents are not your friends, but the furniture will be with you as a constant reminder of their breach of trust.

Why can't everyone be nice and life be simple? I'll pray that you find peace in your situation, Song.

Too bad about the church service.

Song in my Heart said...

I have moved seventeen times in my life, seven of those in the last nine years. I'll be 29 at the end of October. I really want to settle down, and I hoped that this would be the place for it. The tenancy agreement only goes until next summer, at which point if they want to they can put the rent up beyond what we can afford, or simply ask us to leave. That's what stops me being more assertive about the excess furniture. I'd rather try and find a way to live here with it, or even store it at our own expense, than be thinking about moving already when I've only just got here.

Thank you for your prayers and for your kind words, Grandmère.

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