One, Two, Three, Four…. I declare a chair war!!

When deciding to live together OH and I took the decision that (for the moment) we will beg, borrow and steal (Ok, we don’t actual steal but you know what I mean) most of the furniture we bring into our house. We are yet to decorate and neither of us saw the point in buying something for the sake of buying it, better borrow or do without now and then buy a piece of furniture when we find the right item and both fall completely in love with it and then have that item dictate the feel of the room, rather than letting budget and time constraints be the over-riding factor.

This attitude has saved us a buck or two as we did very nearly spend an extremely large amount of money, in a very expensive furniture store. We fell in love with a lounge and dinning room set. We oo’d and aaah’d but after much discussion decided to be sensible and wait until we had moved in… I may have sulked a little.

In hindsight this was a brilliant idea. As since the last visit we have managed to at least double the size of our house, there is no way the couch would fit into our house never mind all the matching items we had our eyes on! Anyway I digress.. (yes I can sense your surprise!)

So back to the actual story….My dad contacted me the other day to see if we wanted 4 garden chairs that he had. I immediately said yes knowing how useful they would be. However, I didn’t tell OH about the purchase. Every time I look at something for the house I am usually met with a “we have no room”, “where will that live” “what are you going to throw out, before that comes in my house” response (delete as appropriate, and notice the my house not our house…) so I held off telling him until he was in a good mood, or drunk – you have no idea how much I get away with after he has had a glass or two!

Unfortunately I left waiting for the perfect moment a little too long and was finally told come and get them or I will give them to your sister. So as I was going for tea that night I took the brave (or foolish – you decide) decision that I wanted the chairs and it is my house too so I would bring them home with me… I did share my plan with one of my colleagues who brilliantly suggested that I smuggled said chairs into the house without OHs knowledge and then just pulled them out one day in front of guests claiming we had always had them, and berating his memory – I have to admit I was very tempted!

So I turned up at my dads house for tea and loaded my 4 garden chairs into the back of my car….. the only problem was he also had some folding chairs which a friend of his had dropped round which were no longer wanted. They were so light… and small… and ideal… I just couldn’t help but add those additional 4 chairs to the back of my car as well, well they would make the perfect Christmas chairs!! (yes I forward plan)

It was after dark when I returned home with my now 8 chairs and sneaking the items into the house unnoticed was not an option. So instead I came in as if everything was normal and went to bed. The next morning OH flung open the curtains looked out at my back seat and inquired as to the contents of my boot… I have to admit, to begin with I feigned sleep.

Now a small digression, as OH and I are beginning to live together we are turning into each other, phrases I often say which he hates, he now says and in exchange I have lost some of my willing to please other people and will stand my ground and fight more corner a bit more. Back to story….

So when I decided feigning sleep for the rest of my life may not work as a diversion tactic and opened my eyes OH asked me what was in the back of my car. I very helpfully replied “stuff” and ran to hide in the bathroom 🙂 See I am becoming him … the ‘stuff’ response, not the hiding in the bathroom, he doesn’t do that!

When I came out of the bathroom, and finally got the chairs out the car OH admitted that I am a genius (didn’t actually happen) and I was allowed to keep all of my chairs (did actually happen!)

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I have a thing

As discussed in my earlier post the bike ride to work is downhill. The bike ride home however is not, there the last mile or so of the bike ride is one long, continuous up hill pedal.

Now every time I cycle through the idyllic village that I now call home, I can’t help but wonder why, we didn’t closer consider the merits of some of the houses at the bottom of the hill.

As with every village, there are a few characters which you meet. It is very much still a local village, for local people and I have a feeling that even our childrens’ children will be outsiders.

There is the very lovely, very large house which looks like an awful lot of money has been spent on it. The grass outside the front is pristine, I am yet to see a weed in their winding stone drive way… but that could be because the first thing that draws your attention is the very large and very odd collection of plastic birds which they have all over their front garden.

You have the very lovely guy, who I believe is involved with the church, whose front garden turns into Santa’s grotto at Christmas – he has been on the telly and everything. People travel from all over, TV crews visit, and he does it all to raise church funds.

There is a very old, and slightly creep house which reminds me of something out of Wuthering Heights. – I’m yet to see any signs of life from inside it.

As all good villages should have their is the lovely, slightly crazy dog lady (I know, I thought that would be me too!) who has made it her missing to help BD overcome his fear aggression. No matter the time of day or night if she sees us out and about she is there, with her dog, offering to walk with us. Bless her.

 

OH and I have discussed these various characters we now live among with our family and friends. We regal them with stories about a life in the country. Unfortunately as I was laughing with one of my friends the other day about how I was told of for not answering my door once when someone called round… I think I was out at work but apparently this isn’t a good enough excuse… I suddenly had a horrible dawning realisation…..

As previously mentioned I have just started to cycle to and from work, and a lot of that return journey happens up hill. However, one thing I haven’t yet shared with you is towards the end of the journey, just as I hit the village it starts to feel like my legs are going to fall of and I have taken to expel air, sort of but not quit a grunt, as a way of coping with this pain…

But this noise, I fear means I have become a ‘character’ of the village.

I have a trait…

I have a thing that makes me stand out from all the other people who live in the village…

Ladies and gentleman I am the lady who cycles through the village making sex noises!!

Did you get the reference?

Did you get the reference?

Are you having fun yet?

So I have taken the decision to do something positive for me.

I am not alone in admitting that I do not like my body, I will always look in the mirror and see my bad skin, my flabby tummy, my muffin top…the list goes on… and even though I know I do not look half as bad as I think I do I am not happy.

For a long time now I have wanted to do something about it.

I am not obsessed with becoming a size 8 or hitting a target weight. Scales were banned in my house when my Dad learned he would be living with 3 woman and so not only have I never known my weight, but I don’t even know what my ideal weight would be – thank you Daddy! However I would like to get ready for a night out and put on what I want to wear without first studying myself to make sure I don’t look fat.
I am sure we have all seen those woman who struggle to squeeze themselves into a top/trousers/dress which is just that little bit to small and had the thought “ If you had only gone up a size or two that would have looked so much better.” I know that squeezing into something to small can make you look so much bigger and I do not want to be one of those woman.

Anyway, I digress. So I have decided to do something about it

I am going to start to bike to work.

This is something I have wanted to do for a while but due to BD being in alone for most of the day, and OH finishing work an hour before me.. I felt selfish taking that little bit of time for me.

But for weeks I have been driving to and from work in the lovely sunshine with my car windows down and thought how lovely it would be to cycle the back roads to work. Well this week I did something about it and on Monday morning I got onto my bike.

All in all the bike ride went well and I massively enjoyed it.

The journey to work is downhill so all in all it isn’t too bad.

However there was one moment when I did have to smile, well it was either smile or cry. I had been going for about 20 minutes and came to one of the few hills I have to deal with on the way into work. As I started to approach the hill it started to rain, this is the first rain we have had in months. It was so heavy I had drops forming on the brink of my helmet.

As I puffed my way up the hill, in the rain, not knowing what time I would arrive at work and being a little bit concerned about how many people would be there to witness me sweaty… in lycra… my iPod clicked onto one of my favourite tunes.

The entire way up the hill I had Nickleback shouting at me “are you having fun yet?”

Um ….what do you think??

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Struggling

So I have had a blog for what a couple of months now and I seem to be struggling for content. Only that isn’t really true, I am struggling with what content to share.

When I started this blog I wanted it to be about my life. A place where I could be open and honest about my past experiences, my future hopes and share my life with what I hope would become a worldwide group of friends.

I read so many brilliant blogs, as part of my job, and I saw the friendship and support they received and I wanted that for me.

The problem is that a lot of my story is wrapped up in OH. Since I first met him I knew he was something a little special. In fact I was so sure about ‘us’ that I applied for a job close to where OH worked purely on the basis it was close to where he worked.
However, a lot of the problems we are having, and the stuff I want to share about is ‘his’ story. It is tied up with his past, the way he has been treated, and things that have happened. The problem is I am very aware that the pre-stuff me if his story, not mine. Yet I don’t know how to share about the problems we are having without letting at least some of his story out.

His past is affecting my future, and I want to share that future with you, but can’t without sharing a little of his past. Do you see the circle?

OH has suffered from a past relationship.  I can see that this past suffering is affecting our relationship, in the same way that the bullying and mind games I suffered are affecting me. But as this is my blog I can share my issues and work through them… but I can’t do that with his stuff.

Yet, I am becoming more and more worried that his past is going to affect my future.
Any thoughts?

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Bloody Flies

We are INUNDATED with flies.

I have no idea where they have come from or why, but as I am sat here typing I am actually being dived bombed by a couple of the little ‘loves’ and one has just landed on my leg.

This has resulted in me becoming paranoid. I know greeting anyone, friends, family, random strangers asking me if I have found Christ, who comes to the door with a “Does my house smell” rather than the slightly more socially acceptable ‘Hello, lovely to see you please come in’.

Everyone is reassuring me that my house does not smell, which then leads me to worry it is a personal hygiene thing. You will be pleased to know it is only friends and family I have asked to “sniff” me… as I am not sure people asking me to find Christ would be a. up for it, and b. honest enough to tell me the truth if I do smell.

The situation is so bad that OH went out the other day and bought sticky fly paper which we have put everywhere you can think of and I am now checking on an hourly basis to see how many more of the flying buggers have become stuck. A slight change from when I was a child and once fell out with my father for killing a fly, which I had named and decided would be my pet…what can I say, I am an animal lover!

However, there are still more flies flying around than I am happy with and so I have taken to chasing the flies around the house with the sticky paper.

I feel I should tell you that this doesn’t always work, but it did caused much amusement when my friend decided to get in on the action.  However he had slightly dodgy aim and missed the fly he was chasing and stuck the entire sheet to my kitchen cupboard!

Any one out there have any advice on how I can get rid of them?

The dog has taken to eating them and I am not keen to go down that route!

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