My tentative peace with sharing our living space with a hoarder may be over.
Posts Tagged ‘wtf’
Found this in the garden. Not sure what to make of it. It looks like it was deliberately made. As my father in law isn’t noticeably Christian, I can only assume something dead is buried nearby.
Oh my fucking god. You guys are not going to believe this.
My friend’s ex stupid boyfriend (well, he was identifying as a girl at the time, so apply your own label) JUST DREW A CATERPILLAR WITH ANTENNAE FOR THE WORD ‘TENTACLE’ AGAIN.
This house has no thermostat. No. Thermostat.
TMD doesn’t seem to think this is odd – though this is the house she grew up in, so maybe she’s partially immune to the freak show – but I am in awe.
I’ve never heard of a house not having a thermostat. Choices are leaving the boiler on all the time (money, money) or having it off and freezing. The windows don’t help. I do not exaggerate when I say if you are within three feet of a window (all about forty years old) you can feel the breeze and air temp from outside.
But we are getting new windows in a few months. So the only issue up for debate here is the thermostat.
A) so beyond weird you can’t comprehend it
B) strange but fine
C) dude, calm down. I had my thermostat ripped out because they are unnecessary
Vote in the comments. Please.
Catching you up: I forced TMD to tell her dad this is our space, and we especially need time to settle. So no unexpected elongating of visits. No staying all day on Tuesdays. He was gracious and agreed.
He just arrived for this week. First words out of his mouth?
‘I fully take on board what you said last week, but my partner is working in this town on Wednesday, so we really need to stay over on Tuesday night.’
I am breathing slow to try to contain my rage.
I’m throwing all his motherfucking shit away this week. I promise you that.
Fuck fuck. Bastard. Arrogant. No shame.
After you had a talking to the week before, would you immediately fucking presume to lengthen your stay the next time you came? No, of course you wouldn’t. Because you are considerate and realise there are other people than you that matter.
Fuck. There are some slight hitches in the flat sale. TMD has suggested we move back there. Fuck.
It’s nice being so close to her mum. And there is so much for a home educating family in this area. Our friend Gnome lives very near. I don’t want to move.
I tell you, I am thinking really cruel and horrible things. I am trying not to beat myself up for just how bad these thoughts are, because I’m human and I have every right to be angry.
And on the personal growth side of things, I took a step in the direction of standing up to him.
‘It would be nice to have advance notice.’ Ah, so much more polite than what I wanted to say.
It’s all so awkward because this IS his house. We have taken over bills and expenses, but we have not bought the place from him. And I think he’s trying very hard to remind us who is king of the castle.
You guys, I need support. I’m going to crack in a million pieces (like a smashed garden gnome, perhaps?) and only hope some of the shrapnel goes in his direction.
We got the kids this awesome dollhouse some time ago, but gave it to them with limited furniture. Today we cracked out more detailed furniture, and in another six months we may give them the really tiny stuff.
In the meantime, I thought I’d snap a picture of some of the ‘organization’ that they’ve done. It looks remarkably similar to some of the rooms in our house. :/
My father in law had this house. He moved in with his partner into new house, about ninety minutes away. We took over this house. The understanding has been that it is officially ours.
With the condition that he sleeps over Monday nights as he has an ongoing commitment in our town.
Last week was the first time. TMD had a specific talk with him (after he arrived at dawn on Monday) and it was agreed he would leave at noon on Tuesday. She was gone ten minutes and he told me he was staying till five.
This is the second week. He inexplicably arrived very early again today. Just now he said, oh, I’m going to stay till mid-afternoon on Wednesday this week.
I don’t think this is going to work out. I’m a bit panic ridden as our old house will officially be someone else’s in a week, and TMD’s massive paycut means we won’t be able to afford a house down here. Plus we have wasted a lot of time unpacking and cleaning if we are just going to leave again.
I am upset. At my father in law. At TMD for her first response being that we will have to move rather than standing up to him, at myself that I’m so weak and uncomfortable I am not saying anything to him.
Picture of the day. (I may need a new blog category – WTF, crazy shit in our house, trash lovers unite?)March 31, 2012
You know what I’m tempted to do? Host multiple blog giveaways. But instead of awesome stuff like digital cameras or gift cards, I’ll send you a commemorative pen.
We have jars everywhere. Most of the pens don’t work, but that really doesn’t matter when I assume most of you would probably pay to have them professionally mounted on a nice bit of wood.
And yes, folks, I’m getting rid of things a little at a time. If I find anything that equals the gnomes, you’ll be the first to know.
Doorbell: ding dong
Neighbour: hi! I’m your neighbour from next door. How are you settling in?
Me: still trying to unpack.
Neighbour: your father in law has been taking junk to the tip for months.
Me: yes. There’s still a lot more that needs to go. *hearty laugh*
Neighbour: *even hardier laugh, before voice lowers in a confidential tone* Yes. I can believe it. I think he’s a bit of a hoarder.
Laughs all around, before I go back inside to stare blankly at the two long razors on the kitchen counter, the notebooks full of tiny handwriting, and the mysterious pieces of jagged plastic everywhere.
I did quite a bit of venting to TMD this morning. This is our house now, so why is about 45% (a conservative estimate) of our home being used as a closet for someone else? Storing stuff deemed not worthy to move to his new house, stuff he will never use while here, yet it is unable to be donated or pitched?
I may invite you all over. Give you each a trash bag. We can throw shit away for fifteen minutes every hour, and have a party the other 45.
In other news, I tripped over the cat last night and am having trouble walking. It is handy, because Snort has just vomited everywhere. You don’t need to be able to walk pain free in order to sit still, try to catch vomit in your hands, and get covered in what appears to be warm, stinky water.
This is one of the two (!) bedrooms my father in law has claimed for himself. This one was blocked off by an end table shoved into the doorway. This is the ‘after’ picture of the room. Yeah, it has been heavily ‘cleared out.’
Let’s move beyond the fact we still have not unpacked half our boxes because rooms like this exist. Full of precious things that are not precious enough to take to his new house, so he’s using much of ours as a closet.
Let’s jump straight to the fact that the family of four who might need space? Not as important as old wellies, broke down dust carpet, or any of the other multitude of treasures and memories.
On the bright side, this experience may be totally erasing my own tenancy to keep clutter.