It's actually happened and I never saw it arriving, prepared for it or even contemplated the prospect.
But I am now working almost full-time!
I love it, and hate it too.
I miss having allocated time to do my chores in the week, go to morning bootcamp in the park and have time to ponder.
Instead my head is full, bursting with ideas, thoughts, actions, words and emails to the point at 6am I can't stay in bed any longer, I get up and start working. No I'm not a work alcoholic but I am 'an all or nothing girl,'. When I'm on a mission - I'm on it but when it's done I will happily chill and flop about. It is often joked that as passenger in a car I can be asleep before we have left Faversham town centre, and we live in the town centre! I do live for the moment, love the vibe, the buzz and filling my head with other stuff to the point of total distraction. I am constantly thinking about how something can be done, improved and so can't do anything by half. Yes sometimes I need to just slow down, so I am teaching myself this also but I am a bit wired at the moment, like a coiled spring.
But never did I plan to work this much, after all February was the beginning of my new work status; to explore what else might be out there, it was the beginning of a journey and look where we are now.
Wednesday, 30 November 2016
Saturday, 29 October 2016
D for depression
Strange to be sitting here on the last day of a family holiday wanting to write this blog with so many thoughts and words whirling around in my head.
But I am compelled to quickly write about an interesting array of emotions, feelings and actions that have all been part of our family holiday.
We are in Lanzarote; glorious sunshine, sports galore, fantastic food and the great outdoors to enjoy. Our holiday destination is focused around being active, sport with the delights of delicious food, especially seafood and of course our family.
The family consists of me, Andrew and two of my three boys, my mother and her husband, my brother and wife and their two young children.
An opportunity to all be together, spend precious time enjoying the company of extended family.
Potentially idyllic or a cocktail destined for disaster? Is life always what it seems or what we expect?
I write on the last day, hours before we leave the resort of Club La Santa after a fantastic week but not in the way I had imagined.
I have actually been quite stunned at the behaviour of my brother, his mood swings, selfishness, lack of compassion and sensitivity to those around him; especially his own family and of course my mother.
His presence during family moments created such a strong sense of negativity I thought anyone of us may implode at any time if we got too close to him.
The intensity of anger, frustration and what I sensed as jealousy was extremely evident at times.
In the end I avoided him, totally afraid of any comments or actions I may say or make that could possibly antagonise him, which I would then want to respond to and possibly say something I would later regret and upset my mother in the process.
The question that is playing on my mind and others around him; is he suffering from depression?
This is something that he has suffered with before and it consumed his very being, making him untouchable, unbearable and created enormous mood swings that meant those in his company were never sure what to expect.
My mother frets, worries and often wells with tears at the anguish it causes directly and indirectly. I used to have a close relationship with my brother but after too many snappy comments from him of late I now choose to keep my distance, protect myself and in essence avoid being near him.
What a great pity and perhaps I am a coward but honestly how many times can we be the punch bag for those that choose to throw the punches? In truth not as often as they may want us to be, and if that is letting your brother down, then I will have to accept I am guilty. But without knowing for sure what his problem is, I would say his anger with his life is overflowing, it is strangling his very being, and that makes me sad.
How can you teach people to enjoy their life, love their family and just be happy when they don't know how to be contented. They appear to resent you, your actions, misinterpret your words and appear so tense and uptight that you feel they are living on the edge of an almighty explosion that may happen at anytime.
For years my brother has remarked to me - I am not like you, I can't share your enthusiasm, your impulses, I can't live in the moment and not worry like you do. And I am not always buoyant or happy, neither do I walk through life without my days of despair, worrying moments - all documented in my blog for all to read - and this year has definitely had its awful times.
I am sad for him but I also feel very sad for me - I have lost my easy going relationship and connection with my only sibling, my brother. It has been a real strain at times being a happy family on holiday together, and one I do not wish to repeat. I feel sorry for my mother who felt considerably torn with emotions during the week and instigated and paid for the big family holiday.
But I did have a good holiday because I love holidays, I love my family, all the activities and spending precious time with various family members but it just wasn't how I had envisaged our first big family holiday altogether.
But I am compelled to quickly write about an interesting array of emotions, feelings and actions that have all been part of our family holiday.
We are in Lanzarote; glorious sunshine, sports galore, fantastic food and the great outdoors to enjoy. Our holiday destination is focused around being active, sport with the delights of delicious food, especially seafood and of course our family.
The family consists of me, Andrew and two of my three boys, my mother and her husband, my brother and wife and their two young children.
An opportunity to all be together, spend precious time enjoying the company of extended family.
Potentially idyllic or a cocktail destined for disaster? Is life always what it seems or what we expect?
I write on the last day, hours before we leave the resort of Club La Santa after a fantastic week but not in the way I had imagined.
I have actually been quite stunned at the behaviour of my brother, his mood swings, selfishness, lack of compassion and sensitivity to those around him; especially his own family and of course my mother.
His presence during family moments created such a strong sense of negativity I thought anyone of us may implode at any time if we got too close to him.
The intensity of anger, frustration and what I sensed as jealousy was extremely evident at times.
In the end I avoided him, totally afraid of any comments or actions I may say or make that could possibly antagonise him, which I would then want to respond to and possibly say something I would later regret and upset my mother in the process.
The question that is playing on my mind and others around him; is he suffering from depression?
This is something that he has suffered with before and it consumed his very being, making him untouchable, unbearable and created enormous mood swings that meant those in his company were never sure what to expect.
My mother frets, worries and often wells with tears at the anguish it causes directly and indirectly. I used to have a close relationship with my brother but after too many snappy comments from him of late I now choose to keep my distance, protect myself and in essence avoid being near him.
What a great pity and perhaps I am a coward but honestly how many times can we be the punch bag for those that choose to throw the punches? In truth not as often as they may want us to be, and if that is letting your brother down, then I will have to accept I am guilty. But without knowing for sure what his problem is, I would say his anger with his life is overflowing, it is strangling his very being, and that makes me sad.
How can you teach people to enjoy their life, love their family and just be happy when they don't know how to be contented. They appear to resent you, your actions, misinterpret your words and appear so tense and uptight that you feel they are living on the edge of an almighty explosion that may happen at anytime.
For years my brother has remarked to me - I am not like you, I can't share your enthusiasm, your impulses, I can't live in the moment and not worry like you do. And I am not always buoyant or happy, neither do I walk through life without my days of despair, worrying moments - all documented in my blog for all to read - and this year has definitely had its awful times.
I am sad for him but I also feel very sad for me - I have lost my easy going relationship and connection with my only sibling, my brother. It has been a real strain at times being a happy family on holiday together, and one I do not wish to repeat. I feel sorry for my mother who felt considerably torn with emotions during the week and instigated and paid for the big family holiday.
But I did have a good holiday because I love holidays, I love my family, all the activities and spending precious time with various family members but it just wasn't how I had envisaged our first big family holiday altogether.
Tuesday, 13 September 2016
Painful painting
I started painting the front of the house recently. I have managed to re-paint the front door and its surroundings a few weeks ago - and this weekend started to tackle the large bay window.
It is a sight to behold watching your neighbours scurrying past when they see you precariously balanced on a ladder painting and they don't want to catch your eye! Not all neighbours but just; 13, 17, 21, 15, 23 and 25, so nearly everyone! By coincidence everyone who put a comment on-line about the planning application.
Hold your head high, be proud of what you have said and believe, or alternatively hang your head low, look at the pavement and avoid. Pity we all live next door to one another and life is feeling so FUCKING awkward.
Meanwhile bang, bang, bang go the builders at No.15, it is almost a therapy of the worst possible kind. I can almost hear them saying "Look what we're doing you shithead, you'll never be able to hear this sound on your patch!". Get over it I say inwardly as today I feel much better than this time last week, and it's only been a week. Not bad, from slam dunk to recovery - I'll take it, as bruised souls can recover and move on; the question is, can the neighbours who made the comments?
Meanwhile my painting is coming along nicely - I think they call this creative therapy.
It is a sight to behold watching your neighbours scurrying past when they see you precariously balanced on a ladder painting and they don't want to catch your eye! Not all neighbours but just; 13, 17, 21, 15, 23 and 25, so nearly everyone! By coincidence everyone who put a comment on-line about the planning application.
Hold your head high, be proud of what you have said and believe, or alternatively hang your head low, look at the pavement and avoid. Pity we all live next door to one another and life is feeling so FUCKING awkward.
Meanwhile bang, bang, bang go the builders at No.15, it is almost a therapy of the worst possible kind. I can almost hear them saying "Look what we're doing you shithead, you'll never be able to hear this sound on your patch!". Get over it I say inwardly as today I feel much better than this time last week, and it's only been a week. Not bad, from slam dunk to recovery - I'll take it, as bruised souls can recover and move on; the question is, can the neighbours who made the comments?
Meanwhile my painting is coming along nicely - I think they call this creative therapy.
Wednesday, 7 September 2016
Fuck me, one of out four
Four things loomed over me as September approached, I said in no particular order
Tom going to Uni
Planning appeal decision
Kickstarter
New job
Yesterday as I was sitting in a black cab with my little niece and nephew I checked my phone, and there was the long awaited email from my appeal officer.
Do you open it, or do you leave it? Do you think this could be the best bit of news I have heard all year, or do you think if I read it now how will I cope with the possible disappointment whilst sitting here without another adult around, and keep smiling.
I opened it. It was bad news, the worst possible outcome for me. I read it, I closed the email. I looked up at my four year nephew opposite me who was smiling from ear to ear looking out of the black cab window. This was his first time in a black cab and it turned out to be the highlight of our fun-packed day in London! I had just received the news I never wanted to receive, the gamble had not paid off, I had not won, I had lost. I had lost everything. And yet here was a little person smiling about passing buses and cars and waving at every passerby.
I am absolutely devastated, floored, emotionally empty and I now want to name those that have made my life so challenging to date.
The verdict is in, I must take it and deal with it. But I am truly and unreservedly very sad.
I won't be reaching for a handful of prescription pills, putting a gun to my head or tying a noose round my neck but I want to wallow in this great disappointment for a while. Because it has cost me dearly and in choosing my actions it has allowed others to show their colours, and the strength of feeling I have witnessed and been subjected to will not vanish from my mind for a long time.
I am suffering from the after-shock of an emotional kind. Yes self inflicted if some want to be more gruel but I followed a path and never expected to meet so much vindictive outpouring on my travels.
I have heard so much tripe over the years about how people perceive me.
I'm confident
I'm outgoing
I don't show my emotions enough
I'm dogmatic
I'm too enthusiastic
I'm competitive
I'm strong willed
But right now I'm none of those things, I am broken beyond anyones comprehension and hurt.
Oh yes I will move forward and life goes on. And I don't want to hear one word about how I will be alright, every fucking cloud has a silver lining and everything happens for a reason. Just sometimes life is FUCKING UNFAIR - and right now I don't want to DEAL WITH IT.
So my best possible way to pour out the madness that is whirring around in my head is to type. Type it all out.
Who are you?
To the residents of Stone Street Faversham in particular Helen Carr and Daniel Waller.
Your hate campaign which consisted of; laminated posters that adorned lamp posts, posts on Facebook, letters to all local residents one Sunday afternoon and local press campaign citing my proposed house would infringe on your privacy. Your actions and words will never be forgotten.
No 17- recent neighbour and so called friend of seven years. Your comments on-line and attendance at a local council meeting have made me question if you know what friendship truly is. Your rallying with neighbours even though you moved into the street some few months earlier and your supposed innocent actions have caused me so much heartache I can't even begin to tell you. My proposed house would not have affected you or the neighbours that complained. Ironically in April you submitted plans to improve your home and build an extension, this act has not been lost on me nor the hypocrisy of your actions.
No 15 - your comments on-line about the proposed build were personal, very personal, hurtful, vindictive and horrendous. You are an absolute bitch. Currently as I write I am listening to a nematic drill at your home removing tonnes of concrete as your extensive extension is being built off the back of your big house. However you are no where to be seen, as you are not being subjected to the noise, inconvenience or dust as you are currently residing in your other home!
No 21 - you have surpassed yourself with your comments. Again you cited personal reasons, and your comments have stung. I hadn't realised you had made comments on-line until much later in 2015 but it was after you and Barry had ignored me and not sent me a Christmas card that I thought something was a miss. Obviously you felt awkward about your comments, as you never accepted my invitation to chat or come and see the proposed plot. Twelve years we have been neighbours, just goes to show how easy it is to feel a lack of compassion for your neighbours.
Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee - Faversham Pools. Total hypocrites and two-faced shits. In November 2015 when you received notifications that a planning application for a house was being proposed in my garden, on seeing you at a business meeting you both said you wouldn't see any problems with it. I then said I had considered the plans to respect its position and closeness to the pool boundary, which you duly responded that you knew I would. Later you commented to the local press that the proposed house may affect children's health and safely and the comments " house suitable for a paedophile were mentioned!". R you later apologised to me and said you meant no offence and the words were put into your mouth by the press but I noted you were happy to pose for a picture! R - after teaching your children to swim over the years and counting you as a friend, I now see your head dips when you see me, well I can well see why. Oh yes and while I remember, as Manager of Faversham pools you allowed the committee to convince you (apparently) that is was within the publics interest to read about the proposed house build whilst visiting the pools. Nine lamented posters were fixed to walls, doors and in the changing room area and one in reception. The receptionist accosted all visitors and invited them to make comments on-line.
I worked for years as a volunteer teaching swimming at Faversham Pools - just goes to show you can't trust anyone these days!
Chairman of Faversham Pools Committee. You are a spineless man. You allowed the laminated posters to be placed in the pool premises. They intimidated me and my family, they were aimed at causing panic and encouraged people to make negative comments. When I challenged you and said how hurtful your hate campaign was you then apologised and said it wasn't meant to upset. Really, what was its intent then?
Swale Planning officers - you mislead me, you lied and cost me dearly. I hate you all from the bottom of my heart for what I have been put through. This whole process started four years ago with a question and a visit to the site by an officer. The comments led to a submission of pre-plan which we worked on together for two years, it then led to us submitting a plan and the rest is history. Your lack of consistency, understanding of the planning process, the stress it causes and actual costs to others financially and emotionally is frightening. I have suffered because of a broken system that should be fixed.
So here I am.
Living in the heart of a town I had for years held so dear but right now in this very moment it is the town that has residents that made a process extremely painful, personal, malicious and unkind. They have won, and in the aftermath I lick my wounds and look around and now hold a dislike for the town, many of its residents and realise I am out of my league.
I don't fit in and I want to leave.
This is one of the posters that adorned Cross Lane earlier in the year. The picture of the proposed house outsized, and the posters were put in public places to incite fear and concerns. However it matters not anymore my planning application is now over.
I would just like to mention the posters were vicious and I hated walking to work and seeing them.
Tom going to Uni
Planning appeal decision
Kickstarter
New job
Yesterday as I was sitting in a black cab with my little niece and nephew I checked my phone, and there was the long awaited email from my appeal officer.
Do you open it, or do you leave it? Do you think this could be the best bit of news I have heard all year, or do you think if I read it now how will I cope with the possible disappointment whilst sitting here without another adult around, and keep smiling.
I opened it. It was bad news, the worst possible outcome for me. I read it, I closed the email. I looked up at my four year nephew opposite me who was smiling from ear to ear looking out of the black cab window. This was his first time in a black cab and it turned out to be the highlight of our fun-packed day in London! I had just received the news I never wanted to receive, the gamble had not paid off, I had not won, I had lost. I had lost everything. And yet here was a little person smiling about passing buses and cars and waving at every passerby.
I am absolutely devastated, floored, emotionally empty and I now want to name those that have made my life so challenging to date.
The verdict is in, I must take it and deal with it. But I am truly and unreservedly very sad.
I won't be reaching for a handful of prescription pills, putting a gun to my head or tying a noose round my neck but I want to wallow in this great disappointment for a while. Because it has cost me dearly and in choosing my actions it has allowed others to show their colours, and the strength of feeling I have witnessed and been subjected to will not vanish from my mind for a long time.
I am suffering from the after-shock of an emotional kind. Yes self inflicted if some want to be more gruel but I followed a path and never expected to meet so much vindictive outpouring on my travels.
I have heard so much tripe over the years about how people perceive me.
I'm confident
I'm outgoing
I don't show my emotions enough
I'm dogmatic
I'm too enthusiastic
I'm competitive
I'm strong willed
But right now I'm none of those things, I am broken beyond anyones comprehension and hurt.
Oh yes I will move forward and life goes on. And I don't want to hear one word about how I will be alright, every fucking cloud has a silver lining and everything happens for a reason. Just sometimes life is FUCKING UNFAIR - and right now I don't want to DEAL WITH IT.
So my best possible way to pour out the madness that is whirring around in my head is to type. Type it all out.
Who are you?
To the residents of Stone Street Faversham in particular Helen Carr and Daniel Waller.
Your hate campaign which consisted of; laminated posters that adorned lamp posts, posts on Facebook, letters to all local residents one Sunday afternoon and local press campaign citing my proposed house would infringe on your privacy. Your actions and words will never be forgotten.
No 17- recent neighbour and so called friend of seven years. Your comments on-line and attendance at a local council meeting have made me question if you know what friendship truly is. Your rallying with neighbours even though you moved into the street some few months earlier and your supposed innocent actions have caused me so much heartache I can't even begin to tell you. My proposed house would not have affected you or the neighbours that complained. Ironically in April you submitted plans to improve your home and build an extension, this act has not been lost on me nor the hypocrisy of your actions.
No 15 - your comments on-line about the proposed build were personal, very personal, hurtful, vindictive and horrendous. You are an absolute bitch. Currently as I write I am listening to a nematic drill at your home removing tonnes of concrete as your extensive extension is being built off the back of your big house. However you are no where to be seen, as you are not being subjected to the noise, inconvenience or dust as you are currently residing in your other home!
No 21 - you have surpassed yourself with your comments. Again you cited personal reasons, and your comments have stung. I hadn't realised you had made comments on-line until much later in 2015 but it was after you and Barry had ignored me and not sent me a Christmas card that I thought something was a miss. Obviously you felt awkward about your comments, as you never accepted my invitation to chat or come and see the proposed plot. Twelve years we have been neighbours, just goes to show how easy it is to feel a lack of compassion for your neighbours.
Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee - Faversham Pools. Total hypocrites and two-faced shits. In November 2015 when you received notifications that a planning application for a house was being proposed in my garden, on seeing you at a business meeting you both said you wouldn't see any problems with it. I then said I had considered the plans to respect its position and closeness to the pool boundary, which you duly responded that you knew I would. Later you commented to the local press that the proposed house may affect children's health and safely and the comments " house suitable for a paedophile were mentioned!". R you later apologised to me and said you meant no offence and the words were put into your mouth by the press but I noted you were happy to pose for a picture! R - after teaching your children to swim over the years and counting you as a friend, I now see your head dips when you see me, well I can well see why. Oh yes and while I remember, as Manager of Faversham pools you allowed the committee to convince you (apparently) that is was within the publics interest to read about the proposed house build whilst visiting the pools. Nine lamented posters were fixed to walls, doors and in the changing room area and one in reception. The receptionist accosted all visitors and invited them to make comments on-line.
I worked for years as a volunteer teaching swimming at Faversham Pools - just goes to show you can't trust anyone these days!
Chairman of Faversham Pools Committee. You are a spineless man. You allowed the laminated posters to be placed in the pool premises. They intimidated me and my family, they were aimed at causing panic and encouraged people to make negative comments. When I challenged you and said how hurtful your hate campaign was you then apologised and said it wasn't meant to upset. Really, what was its intent then?
Swale Planning officers - you mislead me, you lied and cost me dearly. I hate you all from the bottom of my heart for what I have been put through. This whole process started four years ago with a question and a visit to the site by an officer. The comments led to a submission of pre-plan which we worked on together for two years, it then led to us submitting a plan and the rest is history. Your lack of consistency, understanding of the planning process, the stress it causes and actual costs to others financially and emotionally is frightening. I have suffered because of a broken system that should be fixed.
So here I am.
Living in the heart of a town I had for years held so dear but right now in this very moment it is the town that has residents that made a process extremely painful, personal, malicious and unkind. They have won, and in the aftermath I lick my wounds and look around and now hold a dislike for the town, many of its residents and realise I am out of my league.
I don't fit in and I want to leave.
This is one of the posters that adorned Cross Lane earlier in the year. The picture of the proposed house outsized, and the posters were put in public places to incite fear and concerns. However it matters not anymore my planning application is now over.
I would just like to mention the posters were vicious and I hated walking to work and seeing them.
Sunday, 4 September 2016
With age comes death
This year has without fail been about death. Death of those we know through fame and those who we have known as friends, family and acquaintances. Never has one year been so dramatically associated with death, and in a way that affects so many.
Obviously people are dying daily but this year really has been awful.
I'm useless at consoling or knowing what to say, mainly because I can't bear to think of others pain, loss and equally hate to sound so insincere in the words repeated by so many at a time of bereavement.
I hate the Facebook announcements where your comments during a time of bereavement are in the public domain and sometimes it appears as if everyone is trying to out do each other with their heartfelt condolences in the comments section of the post on Facebook. I have never been one for public displays of affection or emotion (much to my friends and Andrew's amusement) but I am absolutely genuine in my feelings for others, especially during the grieving process. I just can't do this public weeping and wailing. Grief and reflection is very personal. I have found and noted over the years some people thrive off others grief, almost like the grim reapers of other people lives and misfortunes in their search for being centre stage of the drama, they feel they can be the saviour and bearer of the true grief and situation.
Whatever the sadness and loss it does rather remind one constantly of the importance of family, friends, and the fact life is so very precious. And of course, ensuring your Will is sorted!
A family Will presented to me some five years ago has provided much heart-ache, disappointment and frustration to me personally. My late grandfather hand wrote his Will on lined A4 paper, and over a period of years got it witnessed. This handwritten Will did not later withstand the vultures who chose to challenge it. I was to be one of the main benefactors, and an inheritance that would have helped me considerably in my life. Not changed my life but definitely helped.
Money doesn't make you happy but my goodness it can certainly make your life a little easier, allow you to make choices and lighten the load.
Obviously people are dying daily but this year really has been awful.
I'm useless at consoling or knowing what to say, mainly because I can't bear to think of others pain, loss and equally hate to sound so insincere in the words repeated by so many at a time of bereavement.
I hate the Facebook announcements where your comments during a time of bereavement are in the public domain and sometimes it appears as if everyone is trying to out do each other with their heartfelt condolences in the comments section of the post on Facebook. I have never been one for public displays of affection or emotion (much to my friends and Andrew's amusement) but I am absolutely genuine in my feelings for others, especially during the grieving process. I just can't do this public weeping and wailing. Grief and reflection is very personal. I have found and noted over the years some people thrive off others grief, almost like the grim reapers of other people lives and misfortunes in their search for being centre stage of the drama, they feel they can be the saviour and bearer of the true grief and situation.
Whatever the sadness and loss it does rather remind one constantly of the importance of family, friends, and the fact life is so very precious. And of course, ensuring your Will is sorted!
A family Will presented to me some five years ago has provided much heart-ache, disappointment and frustration to me personally. My late grandfather hand wrote his Will on lined A4 paper, and over a period of years got it witnessed. This handwritten Will did not later withstand the vultures who chose to challenge it. I was to be one of the main benefactors, and an inheritance that would have helped me considerably in my life. Not changed my life but definitely helped.
Money doesn't make you happy but my goodness it can certainly make your life a little easier, allow you to make choices and lighten the load.
Surplus to requirements
When your children are little you feel completely overwhelmed with their constant demands, sleepless nights, tantrums, battles over toys, food, bath-time and bedtime. And you crave your own time, space and little bit of peace and then quite suddenly you find you have that haven but you don't actually know when it arrived, if you like it or what to do with it.
As your children grow the battles change, your role evolves and with it you can suddenly find you have become a bystander to their world. A necessary requirement at times but not a constant. A lift to a sporting event or training, the washing lady, the provider of a fridge filled with suitable healthy snacks as family meal times become more adhoc and scheduled around commitments. Family outings a thing of the past, the cool-box hardly used during the summer holidays whereas in the past it was daily requirement to any fun-filled family day out.
This summer has been my first experience of standby mummy, and I have to say it has been strange. I am not sure I have found my equilibrium. I recognise I have my own interests, friends, hobbies, sport and life but I hadn't anticipated the emptiness this summer, and I am not sure I have made the most of it. It has rather left me in limbo at times. Last night a friend chatted to me about her strange summer and changing relationship with her 15 year old daughter, and her realisation that her role was now different from what has been required in the past, and how she felt a little sad and lost. It was at this moment I understood this feeling of letting our children grow can leave us feeling quite unsure of our new role too and with that feeling there is also a little grieving for the past.
On Wednesday it is back to school and the madness of the routine and shock to the system of early morning starts, homework, exams and pressure. And once more my mummy role resumes; the person who keeps all on track, everyone fed, watered, in clean clothes and motivated through all the trials and tribulations. And on occasion takes phone calls from the school about inappropriate behaviour, and then this mummy really kicks into action!
As your children grow the battles change, your role evolves and with it you can suddenly find you have become a bystander to their world. A necessary requirement at times but not a constant. A lift to a sporting event or training, the washing lady, the provider of a fridge filled with suitable healthy snacks as family meal times become more adhoc and scheduled around commitments. Family outings a thing of the past, the cool-box hardly used during the summer holidays whereas in the past it was daily requirement to any fun-filled family day out.
This summer has been my first experience of standby mummy, and I have to say it has been strange. I am not sure I have found my equilibrium. I recognise I have my own interests, friends, hobbies, sport and life but I hadn't anticipated the emptiness this summer, and I am not sure I have made the most of it. It has rather left me in limbo at times. Last night a friend chatted to me about her strange summer and changing relationship with her 15 year old daughter, and her realisation that her role was now different from what has been required in the past, and how she felt a little sad and lost. It was at this moment I understood this feeling of letting our children grow can leave us feeling quite unsure of our new role too and with that feeling there is also a little grieving for the past.
On Wednesday it is back to school and the madness of the routine and shock to the system of early morning starts, homework, exams and pressure. And once more my mummy role resumes; the person who keeps all on track, everyone fed, watered, in clean clothes and motivated through all the trials and tribulations. And on occasion takes phone calls from the school about inappropriate behaviour, and then this mummy really kicks into action!
Friday, 2 September 2016
End of the holidays
Can't quite believe that what appeared to be endless weeks of summer school holidays are now about to end.
It has been quite a journey of emotions, turmoil, fun, trials and tribulations.
Tom is off to uni on the 14th September, the first to fly the nest. I hadn't thought it would feel this emotional but I am normal and I am feeling quite reflective. What a great sense of relief that your son has managed to obtain results that enable him to make choices and study his chosen subject. Then utter relief that all will be fine. Then the mummy concerns creep in; will he really be ok, will he settle in, will he be happy.
Four big things are looming large
In no particular order
Kickstarter
Uni for Tom
Planning appeal decision
New job opportunity for me
Bouncing into September with renewed optimism and of course the usual niggles of 'What If' - but then would I be normal if I wasn't wondering, thinking, worrying just a little?
It has been quite a journey of emotions, turmoil, fun, trials and tribulations.
Tom is off to uni on the 14th September, the first to fly the nest. I hadn't thought it would feel this emotional but I am normal and I am feeling quite reflective. What a great sense of relief that your son has managed to obtain results that enable him to make choices and study his chosen subject. Then utter relief that all will be fine. Then the mummy concerns creep in; will he really be ok, will he settle in, will he be happy.
Four big things are looming large
In no particular order
Kickstarter
Uni for Tom
Planning appeal decision
New job opportunity for me
Bouncing into September with renewed optimism and of course the usual niggles of 'What If' - but then would I be normal if I wasn't wondering, thinking, worrying just a little?
Friday, 19 August 2016
Blonde Ambition
And fuck wits!
I promised myself I wouldn't look at the Swale Planning site until my appeal was over.
I promised I would not find out who had made comment, to protect myself.
But intrigue to see if there were some details about the planning appeal dates led me to look this afternoon. And then I saw all the comments, and stupidly read some of them. Two neighbours have once more voiced utter tripe and now I have to hope above hope that I win this appeal.
I want to win because they have lied and used irrelevant arguments and one person has been so hypercritical it is beyond belief. Citing noise pollution, viability and visibility of the proposed new home when they are, as I write, building a large extension off the back of their own house!
Deep breathe.
On the bright side, and there is always one - we will sell up and move to Whitstable. I am not staying here, actually when I think about moving I get quite excited at the prospect.
Every big black cloud has a silver lining.
By the way did you know.....
"Brown rice should be illegal?" This is my favourite quote from my boys when I serve it, instead of their preferred white rice. It always makes me laugh. I wonder what they will serve their children in years to come, I can almost bet on it being brown rice, because my darlings it's better for you they will chant!
I promised myself I wouldn't look at the Swale Planning site until my appeal was over.
I promised I would not find out who had made comment, to protect myself.
But intrigue to see if there were some details about the planning appeal dates led me to look this afternoon. And then I saw all the comments, and stupidly read some of them. Two neighbours have once more voiced utter tripe and now I have to hope above hope that I win this appeal.
I want to win because they have lied and used irrelevant arguments and one person has been so hypercritical it is beyond belief. Citing noise pollution, viability and visibility of the proposed new home when they are, as I write, building a large extension off the back of their own house!
Deep breathe.
On the bright side, and there is always one - we will sell up and move to Whitstable. I am not staying here, actually when I think about moving I get quite excited at the prospect.
Every big black cloud has a silver lining.
By the way did you know.....
"Brown rice should be illegal?" This is my favourite quote from my boys when I serve it, instead of their preferred white rice. It always makes me laugh. I wonder what they will serve their children in years to come, I can almost bet on it being brown rice, because my darlings it's better for you they will chant!
Thursday, 11 August 2016
Holidays
Last Sunday early doors we returned from a glorious week sailing in Croatia with family. A week of enjoying the delights of the Adriatic sea, seafood, sunshine and relaxation. There was drama too, as my eldest very aptly stated one evening "every day is carnage in Croatia!". This was after one afternoon, when sailing conditions had been awesome, high winds and choppy seas had meant the 46' Bavaria was licking up the speed and the boat was slicing through the water, leaning quite heavily when suddenly the dingy freed itself from its holding on the deck and fell into the water. Suddenly we had to spring into action to rescue the dingy and sail out of the wind making the large sails batter frantically in the wind, which makes one feel like you're out of control plus the sound is rather beating and distressing. The adrenalin pumps as you try to get an inflatable boat on board in high waves with winds, an interesting challenge too.
Holidays are for creating memories of good times together, relaxing and reconnecting with each other. I can happily say we managed to do all of that, plus laugh lots and have some great conversations too.
My children asked me "are you still writing that blog thing?"
I replied I was, and why did it matter.
They were interested to know the title and why I did it.
I resisted telling them too much, I said it wasn't really important, and it's really a self indulgent thing I did to release thoughts, feelings into a space that didn't interfere, upset or annoy others.
Yet again my eldest made me laugh when he said "blimey what have you got to moan about, you are a middle class mother that has lovely holidays and a house!"
Good point but does that mean you aren't affected by others words, actions and injustice?
Does it mean that whilst life can seem outwardly wonderful, inwardly there can be turmoil, strife and anxiety?
Right now I am in a great place but actually only have £100 in my current account to last me the next two weeks! So it's not always about money but about what makes us happy. I love having enough money, who doesn't, but ultimately I like it when life feels in the balance. Andrew my partner of three years moved into our family home in June, the boys are growing fast and provide endless moments of pure joy, pride and exasperation in the same measure. And on Tuesday the inspector for my planning appeal visited the proposed plot of land. I had a nightmare the night before, I dreamt I went out, and no one was here to let them in. I don't know when I will know the outcome of the inspectors visit but some part of me is just relieved it is all over now. There is nothing more I can do, I have spent every last penny of my savings on the appeal and the decision is out of my hands.
Why is it so liberating to have nothing yet feel free. Because ultimately money gives us choices, I choose to spend my last £5,000 of savings on fighting an appeal, a principle of my rights. It may be the stupidest thing I ever do, or it may be the best. But I made the choice based on the fact if you don't fight for what you believe to be right, then you will always live in wonder of what may have been, not in the here and now and feeling alive with optimism. However I do need to be prepared for the let-down, the disappointment and hurt. But it won't be worse than before, and I have already decided; if I am unsuccessful I will sell up and move to another place and together we will start new era and that will be a great thing too.
So I am feeling alive, optimistic and completely broke but I have happy holiday memories, a home, great children and a fab partner.
Holidays are for creating memories of good times together, relaxing and reconnecting with each other. I can happily say we managed to do all of that, plus laugh lots and have some great conversations too.
My children asked me "are you still writing that blog thing?"
I replied I was, and why did it matter.
They were interested to know the title and why I did it.
I resisted telling them too much, I said it wasn't really important, and it's really a self indulgent thing I did to release thoughts, feelings into a space that didn't interfere, upset or annoy others.
Yet again my eldest made me laugh when he said "blimey what have you got to moan about, you are a middle class mother that has lovely holidays and a house!"
Good point but does that mean you aren't affected by others words, actions and injustice?
Does it mean that whilst life can seem outwardly wonderful, inwardly there can be turmoil, strife and anxiety?
Right now I am in a great place but actually only have £100 in my current account to last me the next two weeks! So it's not always about money but about what makes us happy. I love having enough money, who doesn't, but ultimately I like it when life feels in the balance. Andrew my partner of three years moved into our family home in June, the boys are growing fast and provide endless moments of pure joy, pride and exasperation in the same measure. And on Tuesday the inspector for my planning appeal visited the proposed plot of land. I had a nightmare the night before, I dreamt I went out, and no one was here to let them in. I don't know when I will know the outcome of the inspectors visit but some part of me is just relieved it is all over now. There is nothing more I can do, I have spent every last penny of my savings on the appeal and the decision is out of my hands.
Why is it so liberating to have nothing yet feel free. Because ultimately money gives us choices, I choose to spend my last £5,000 of savings on fighting an appeal, a principle of my rights. It may be the stupidest thing I ever do, or it may be the best. But I made the choice based on the fact if you don't fight for what you believe to be right, then you will always live in wonder of what may have been, not in the here and now and feeling alive with optimism. However I do need to be prepared for the let-down, the disappointment and hurt. But it won't be worse than before, and I have already decided; if I am unsuccessful I will sell up and move to another place and together we will start new era and that will be a great thing too.
So I am feeling alive, optimistic and completely broke but I have happy holiday memories, a home, great children and a fab partner.
Sunday, 24 July 2016
Dear dad
Email received from my father......
Hi
Suppose to be branded a prolific writer is some form of recognition.
Just like paintings , ones works become collectable after one is no longer around!!
Cheers
Barry
My response.....after email above and another one asking me to wish the boys Happy Birthday.
Two sons have birthdays on consecutive days 23 and 24 July.
Two sons have birthdays on consecutive days 23 and 24 July.
Hello dad,
Make sure we get a copy of your books then, if there is a chance in death your fame and notoriety will increase!
Boys birthdays are always a stress, feeling that you are meeting expectations and delivering fun.
James is at the age where he is out with mates, drinking in pubs etc with his fake ID. I am sometimes a taxi and often the receiver of tired grumpy teenagers who can't work out why they are skint!
Meanwhile Will has asked for five boys to stay tonight. That means they will stay awake all night, watch horror films and eat loads.
I look forward to tomorrow when it's all over and normality can resume.
Just purchased the most expensive football boots for Will. I said if he got selected for Kent I would treat him, I thought it was a long shot! Just goes to show.
The boys would always appreciate hearing from you directly. Very sad for me to pass on messages from their grandfather when you have the means and ability to send a birthday card. After all these years it still saddens me you do not fully understand what being a grandfather and having grandchildren really means. Some people would relish the opportunity to have three handsome, sporty, intelligent, witty, tall grandsons who's knowledge of sport especially football puts most of us in the shade. Tom is a young man now getting ready for uni, the first grandson to go. James is now a qualified lifeguard working at the pool in his spare time, also coaches Water polo for the juniors and also plans to go to uni. Will is so sporty his ability to play anything never ceases to delight and surprise me.
We're away from next Friday for a well deserved holiday.
Monday, 18 July 2016
Not even a daddy's girl
I have a very strange relationship with my father. He lives in Malaysia, and once a year he usually makes a trip to the UK. This trip normally coincides with the annual stamp fair in Dublin or the stamp collectors AGM, whatever that is. He usually makes time to see us, that's my brother and me and the five grandchildren. We are normally allocated two days in total.
This year he said that he would possibly come to the UK in August with his wife (who apparently hates travelling) and stay in a hotel in London and we could all meet up.
I hadn't heard from him for a while so sent a What's App this weekend asking if he had made plans for his trip.
No, he hadn't, they weren't coming to the UK this year, far too busy. Apparently they have just bought another condo in KL that needs work, and he's busy learning his Californian highway code.
Interesting, it appears the condo is smaller than their current home and has been purchased in readiness for them to downsize when the dogs die ( planning ahead, as dogs are apparently fine at the moment!) and California is on the agenda. My step sister has bought them a house in San Jose, and they plan to spend time there during the coming years.
I read recently that families that refer to each other as step and half are not embracing the true meaning of family. Well for the record I use the term step, as it conjures up a divided and disjoined family unit. Which we are.
Now on hearing this news I was rather shocked. We have never get invited to Malaysia for a holiday. I did take the boys once for a week in 2011, just before I was about to split from my husband and it was actually really great to spend time with my dad and his wife Noel. My dad for the first time in my life seemed to relate to my impending dilemma and heartache. We had a great time in Malaysia, the boys were impeccably behaved and it was a success. So I was told by my father and Noel and so I thought. I think they were genuinely surprised how independent we all were, easy to amuse and happy to be out and about, using public transport and exploring.
I recently mentioned to my father that we would happily visit him in Malaysia as I know travelling when you get older can be rather difficult, and he struggles with his mobility at times. He said Noel was now quite neurotic and didn't like visitors, and despite having a full time maid it caused undue stress. I was rather put out and said he should tell her that we are his family. I also thought he could arrange for alternative accommodation for us, if he really wanted to see us but didn't verbalise this. He said he found it hard with Noel too but managed to cope. Personally I think neither of them have enough to do all day except bemoan the poor Philippine maid, who is worked so hard and probably never does anything quite right.
How different can parents be? I have a mother who would do anything for her two children and grandchildren and cherishes time together and a father who does not.
We have had our differences over the years, I can't say I like him too much. I try, I've even had counselling but it comes down to the same thing every time. How can you have a relationship with someone who doesn't seem to care about you.
We don't get birthday cards, Christmas cards or presents. We get an annual visit if we're lucky, and little dialogue.
And now I learn he favours time nearer his other daughter ( he adopted her ) my step-sister who I despise.
I despise her for lots of reasons but one event in particular. Many years ago she invited me to her wedding dinner, which turned out to be a lie. She was apparently having a full traditional wedding in Malaysia with her fiancé Andy (a Malaysian) and this was a UK pre-ample with just the registry office ( done earlier in the day) and a meal with a few family and friends. We weren't invited to Malaysia for her apparent big wedding but I wouldn't have expected to be, as our relationship even then was disjointed and very ill at ease. We were told Andy and her had been married earlier at the Registry office but this later turned out to be untrue. We were also requested to buy John Lewis vouchers, which were never returned after the truth came out, and Andy and Grace never married and soon split up. My dad was part of the whole conspiracy at the time too. There's even more to the story but as you see, it's all a bit crazy.
My dislike for Grace also stems back to the time when I was 17 and had just I learned my mother and father were separating. Grace was thrust at me in my then family home and I was supposed to like her. Meanwhile I had just heard that the reason my parents were separating was because her mother and my father had an affair. Plus to add to the injury at the time, the rumour in Hong Kong was that Noel, Grace's mother was a prostitute. Can you imagine all this shit flying about, and knowing my mother was back in the UK weeping having fled from Hong Kong with little of her belongings. We were fresh out of boarding school in the UK, greeted with the separation news, and days later packed off to HK as usual with our mother saying "you'll be fine darlings, go and enjoy the holidays with your dad!".
Over the years I have learnt to get along with Noel, and even enjoy her company. Age has mellowed me. But not Grace, forever the clever achieving girl, who's success is rubbed into my very being whenever my dad can. And now she's bought him a house. Well strike me down, isn't he lucky.
This year he said that he would possibly come to the UK in August with his wife (who apparently hates travelling) and stay in a hotel in London and we could all meet up.
I hadn't heard from him for a while so sent a What's App this weekend asking if he had made plans for his trip.
No, he hadn't, they weren't coming to the UK this year, far too busy. Apparently they have just bought another condo in KL that needs work, and he's busy learning his Californian highway code.
Interesting, it appears the condo is smaller than their current home and has been purchased in readiness for them to downsize when the dogs die ( planning ahead, as dogs are apparently fine at the moment!) and California is on the agenda. My step sister has bought them a house in San Jose, and they plan to spend time there during the coming years.
I read recently that families that refer to each other as step and half are not embracing the true meaning of family. Well for the record I use the term step, as it conjures up a divided and disjoined family unit. Which we are.
Now on hearing this news I was rather shocked. We have never get invited to Malaysia for a holiday. I did take the boys once for a week in 2011, just before I was about to split from my husband and it was actually really great to spend time with my dad and his wife Noel. My dad for the first time in my life seemed to relate to my impending dilemma and heartache. We had a great time in Malaysia, the boys were impeccably behaved and it was a success. So I was told by my father and Noel and so I thought. I think they were genuinely surprised how independent we all were, easy to amuse and happy to be out and about, using public transport and exploring.
I recently mentioned to my father that we would happily visit him in Malaysia as I know travelling when you get older can be rather difficult, and he struggles with his mobility at times. He said Noel was now quite neurotic and didn't like visitors, and despite having a full time maid it caused undue stress. I was rather put out and said he should tell her that we are his family. I also thought he could arrange for alternative accommodation for us, if he really wanted to see us but didn't verbalise this. He said he found it hard with Noel too but managed to cope. Personally I think neither of them have enough to do all day except bemoan the poor Philippine maid, who is worked so hard and probably never does anything quite right.
How different can parents be? I have a mother who would do anything for her two children and grandchildren and cherishes time together and a father who does not.
We have had our differences over the years, I can't say I like him too much. I try, I've even had counselling but it comes down to the same thing every time. How can you have a relationship with someone who doesn't seem to care about you.
We don't get birthday cards, Christmas cards or presents. We get an annual visit if we're lucky, and little dialogue.
And now I learn he favours time nearer his other daughter ( he adopted her ) my step-sister who I despise.
I despise her for lots of reasons but one event in particular. Many years ago she invited me to her wedding dinner, which turned out to be a lie. She was apparently having a full traditional wedding in Malaysia with her fiancé Andy (a Malaysian) and this was a UK pre-ample with just the registry office ( done earlier in the day) and a meal with a few family and friends. We weren't invited to Malaysia for her apparent big wedding but I wouldn't have expected to be, as our relationship even then was disjointed and very ill at ease. We were told Andy and her had been married earlier at the Registry office but this later turned out to be untrue. We were also requested to buy John Lewis vouchers, which were never returned after the truth came out, and Andy and Grace never married and soon split up. My dad was part of the whole conspiracy at the time too. There's even more to the story but as you see, it's all a bit crazy.
My dislike for Grace also stems back to the time when I was 17 and had just I learned my mother and father were separating. Grace was thrust at me in my then family home and I was supposed to like her. Meanwhile I had just heard that the reason my parents were separating was because her mother and my father had an affair. Plus to add to the injury at the time, the rumour in Hong Kong was that Noel, Grace's mother was a prostitute. Can you imagine all this shit flying about, and knowing my mother was back in the UK weeping having fled from Hong Kong with little of her belongings. We were fresh out of boarding school in the UK, greeted with the separation news, and days later packed off to HK as usual with our mother saying "you'll be fine darlings, go and enjoy the holidays with your dad!".
Over the years I have learnt to get along with Noel, and even enjoy her company. Age has mellowed me. But not Grace, forever the clever achieving girl, who's success is rubbed into my very being whenever my dad can. And now she's bought him a house. Well strike me down, isn't he lucky.
Picking over the carcass
Warning this blog entry contains some swearing because just occasionally the writing of a horrid little swear word releases a feelgood endorphin!
The wolves circle, continually watching, observing and then with interest move in.
A light interest that underlies so many questions. A gentle prompt and prod to see what it reveals.
"You're staying at South Road then?"
Translated it means; following your failed planning application you're not moving then?
"Yes at the moment I'm staying" I then pause and think about how much I want to say and continue.
"Actually at the moment I'm in the middle of my appeal....." Silence.
Yes the fucking appeal. It has been ticking away quietly in the background until today. Then like a fat beast it raised its ugly furry head, and messed up my mind and my everything.
As I write this my planning consultant, who is costing me nothing short of my divorce solicitor, is compiling the final appeal response in answer to the councils statement and the neighbours who once again had to have their say. Mind you only three this time, against 81 before. I have actually refused to read or see the comments, I can't bear it. I don't want to know what has been said, and by who. I hate everyone who commented the first time, why would I want to hate them more?
It's ok I will move on but tonight I want to vent. And my hate is only surface deep, I don't have the energy to allow it to go further.
So why the anger today?
Today I learnt that Swale Council have said they would consider a house but in a different location, size and design.
WHAT, you never said this at the planning committee meeting. You never wrote this in your refusal document. You just said the proposal was an alien form. You gave me nothing to consider, re-address, re-design. NOPE nothing, nada, no fucking piece of hope. So after lots of anguish, upset I decided I would go to appeal because I sought advice and we decided we had a chance at appeal because you had been so unreasonable.
Please note the word unreasonable. Yup totally, equivocally unjust and unfair. You played dirty and now at the 11th hour you say perhaps you would allow a house.
Do you think I have thousands of pounds to employ an architect to re-design the house that I developed with your planning department in the first place, to meet your requirements, not mine. I compromised, I listened, I responded and I then submitted when you said you were happy.
You never cease to amaze me. And the wolves circle; the friends and acquaintances that want to know more. All amazed at my silence, my dignity held during a war that raged around me in January, February and March 2016. Posters, on-line comments, articles in papers, neighbours downward gaze, local councillors siding with residents. The snowball just gathered momentum until in the end no one knew what they were fighting but they just joined the fight.
In the aftermath when the locals battle was won, some people were astounded at the behaviour of some and apologised directly. Many were shocked and said they didn't know what all the fuss had been about.
The inspector visits here on the 9th August, and then we await his response to this farcical process.
And just for the record, I am fucking furious, pissed off, mad and annoyed that I have been made to go through this and now read comments from the council about what they may permit. You bunch of planning tossers, playing with peoples emotions, expecting them to keep paying for more plans and to back down after I committed to the appeal process. How dare you.
May I see justice done, may the inspector rule in my favour because Swale Planning department don't know their arse from their elbow and it will be an act of incompetence if the appeal goes in their favour.
The wolves circle, continually watching, observing and then with interest move in.
A light interest that underlies so many questions. A gentle prompt and prod to see what it reveals.
"You're staying at South Road then?"
Translated it means; following your failed planning application you're not moving then?
"Yes at the moment I'm staying" I then pause and think about how much I want to say and continue.
"Actually at the moment I'm in the middle of my appeal....." Silence.
Yes the fucking appeal. It has been ticking away quietly in the background until today. Then like a fat beast it raised its ugly furry head, and messed up my mind and my everything.
As I write this my planning consultant, who is costing me nothing short of my divorce solicitor, is compiling the final appeal response in answer to the councils statement and the neighbours who once again had to have their say. Mind you only three this time, against 81 before. I have actually refused to read or see the comments, I can't bear it. I don't want to know what has been said, and by who. I hate everyone who commented the first time, why would I want to hate them more?
It's ok I will move on but tonight I want to vent. And my hate is only surface deep, I don't have the energy to allow it to go further.
So why the anger today?
Today I learnt that Swale Council have said they would consider a house but in a different location, size and design.
WHAT, you never said this at the planning committee meeting. You never wrote this in your refusal document. You just said the proposal was an alien form. You gave me nothing to consider, re-address, re-design. NOPE nothing, nada, no fucking piece of hope. So after lots of anguish, upset I decided I would go to appeal because I sought advice and we decided we had a chance at appeal because you had been so unreasonable.
Please note the word unreasonable. Yup totally, equivocally unjust and unfair. You played dirty and now at the 11th hour you say perhaps you would allow a house.
Do you think I have thousands of pounds to employ an architect to re-design the house that I developed with your planning department in the first place, to meet your requirements, not mine. I compromised, I listened, I responded and I then submitted when you said you were happy.
You never cease to amaze me. And the wolves circle; the friends and acquaintances that want to know more. All amazed at my silence, my dignity held during a war that raged around me in January, February and March 2016. Posters, on-line comments, articles in papers, neighbours downward gaze, local councillors siding with residents. The snowball just gathered momentum until in the end no one knew what they were fighting but they just joined the fight.
In the aftermath when the locals battle was won, some people were astounded at the behaviour of some and apologised directly. Many were shocked and said they didn't know what all the fuss had been about.
The inspector visits here on the 9th August, and then we await his response to this farcical process.
And just for the record, I am fucking furious, pissed off, mad and annoyed that I have been made to go through this and now read comments from the council about what they may permit. You bunch of planning tossers, playing with peoples emotions, expecting them to keep paying for more plans and to back down after I committed to the appeal process. How dare you.
May I see justice done, may the inspector rule in my favour because Swale Planning department don't know their arse from their elbow and it will be an act of incompetence if the appeal goes in their favour.
Monday, 11 July 2016
How do we measure a woman's success?
Do we measure success by money, material possessions, integrity, allegiance, confidence, honesty, popularity, compassion, personal achievement or happiness?
A question that we all possibly have different ideas, observations and thoughts on.
Measuring a woman's success is often measured against a man doing a similar task, job, sport and if the woman meets an expectation and acceptance within this comparison then she can be deemed as successful.
What if we take paid work out of the equation and measure someones success on their life away from work, money and promotion. What are we measuring?
Are we measuring a persons ability to be organised, be a good parent, a role model, an excellent volunteer, good at DIY, maintain a home, produce delicious meals, be contented, a good partner, friend, punctual, loyal and trustworthy; is that success?
I often think men feel their success is measured by their perceived wealth. Indeed a group of men can often be seen strutting about like peacocks presenting their wealth in visual terms. A watch, a car, a new home, a position in the work place. Does this really reflect success?
I was once astounded at the amount of new cars in a school car park, and felt somewhat ashamed of my nine year old banger. It never occurred to me that the cars were all purchased on HP or leased and that few if anyone actually owned their cars out right! Years later as we hit a recession the cars vanished, but my old faithful was still going strong. At the time I felt almost overwhelmed with the visual of what appeared to be wealth and success but later realised it was all show.
Success is indeed many things.
What is important is that men and woman are measured in the same way; in their work place and within home.
In both areas there is room for brilliance, achievement, and recognition and of course failure.
Being a parent or indeed working parent doesn't make you better, more able or a right to martyr points. And indeed being a working man or woman (without children) doesn't automatically make you more able to achieve and less likely to fail.
Being a good person in all areas of life makes you successful.
Angela Leadsom and Theresa May are proving this is an interesting battle of our times, and they left Michael Gove watching as a bystander despite his wife wishing him success at the cost of his integrity and honesty.
A question that we all possibly have different ideas, observations and thoughts on.
Measuring a woman's success is often measured against a man doing a similar task, job, sport and if the woman meets an expectation and acceptance within this comparison then she can be deemed as successful.
What if we take paid work out of the equation and measure someones success on their life away from work, money and promotion. What are we measuring?
Are we measuring a persons ability to be organised, be a good parent, a role model, an excellent volunteer, good at DIY, maintain a home, produce delicious meals, be contented, a good partner, friend, punctual, loyal and trustworthy; is that success?
I often think men feel their success is measured by their perceived wealth. Indeed a group of men can often be seen strutting about like peacocks presenting their wealth in visual terms. A watch, a car, a new home, a position in the work place. Does this really reflect success?
I was once astounded at the amount of new cars in a school car park, and felt somewhat ashamed of my nine year old banger. It never occurred to me that the cars were all purchased on HP or leased and that few if anyone actually owned their cars out right! Years later as we hit a recession the cars vanished, but my old faithful was still going strong. At the time I felt almost overwhelmed with the visual of what appeared to be wealth and success but later realised it was all show.
Success is indeed many things.
What is important is that men and woman are measured in the same way; in their work place and within home.
In both areas there is room for brilliance, achievement, and recognition and of course failure.
Being a parent or indeed working parent doesn't make you better, more able or a right to martyr points. And indeed being a working man or woman (without children) doesn't automatically make you more able to achieve and less likely to fail.
Being a good person in all areas of life makes you successful.
Angela Leadsom and Theresa May are proving this is an interesting battle of our times, and they left Michael Gove watching as a bystander despite his wife wishing him success at the cost of his integrity and honesty.
Sunday, 12 June 2016
More waiting.....
When I last added a blog entry we had just submitted the Kickstarter campaign for review. Following the feedback we are making some adjustments, and now (fingers crossed) hope to be live at the beginning of July. We are required to show more evidence, and this also needs to be captured on film and edited, which all takes a little more time. But surely worth it in the end.
In the meantime we have had a meeting with a fitness guru who wants some working prototypes, and if they respond in the way we anticipate, and subject to him testing the data, he would want our product to support a very comprehensive fitness app he has developed for an early January launch. Also we entered StingRay into the Top Pitch competition and made the final but not the final five. TopShop were running the competition in search of some innovative technology to work with, and we were delighted to be considered worthy of a final place.
And on a another exciting and newsworthy note, my planning appeal has been submitted and accepted by the national Inspectorate and is now underway. A daunting prospect but one I need to see through. All planning paperwork has to be with the inspector by 26th July to enable him to make a decision.
Working as a self-employed consultant is also proving to be rewarding, exciting, variable and most importantly thoroughly enjoyable. Hurray to taking the step, and it all working out.
This year certainly had its moments, some of which I haven't recorded as I just didn't have the energy but i am pleased that writing this in June, half way through the year, it feels as positive change is taking place, and new and hopeful opportunities lie ahead.
In the meantime we have had a meeting with a fitness guru who wants some working prototypes, and if they respond in the way we anticipate, and subject to him testing the data, he would want our product to support a very comprehensive fitness app he has developed for an early January launch. Also we entered StingRay into the Top Pitch competition and made the final but not the final five. TopShop were running the competition in search of some innovative technology to work with, and we were delighted to be considered worthy of a final place.
And on a another exciting and newsworthy note, my planning appeal has been submitted and accepted by the national Inspectorate and is now underway. A daunting prospect but one I need to see through. All planning paperwork has to be with the inspector by 26th July to enable him to make a decision.
Working as a self-employed consultant is also proving to be rewarding, exciting, variable and most importantly thoroughly enjoyable. Hurray to taking the step, and it all working out.
This year certainly had its moments, some of which I haven't recorded as I just didn't have the energy but i am pleased that writing this in June, half way through the year, it feels as positive change is taking place, and new and hopeful opportunities lie ahead.
Monday, 9 May 2016
Are we on the thin edge of change?
After two years of development, creative design and thousands of pounds of investment, last night Andrew pressed SEND on his project to be submitted to Kickstarter for approval.
In the next few days we will hear if it meets with their criteria and then we can go live with the funding campaign, which if successful, will enable the prototype StingRay to go into production.
It has been a tense, exciting and emotional few weeks getting to this point. But I think we're ready now. The website is done, social media sites ready and press release nearly complete; all in readiness for the big launch.
The Kickstarter campaign will last 30 gruelling days, during which time we will either be a BETAMAX or VHS. Of course we want to be VHS, and by thinking positively it is then almost impossible at night to sleep without imagining about what might happen if it does get the support we seek and Andrew deserves.
As I was walking home tonight from my Metafit class I couldn't help wondering if this is will soon be the end of our sedate life in Faversham. Instead will we be flooded with enquiries, telephone calls and pledge promises that make our hearts pound and take us on a journey we have only dreamed of. Or will we watch the campaign just trickle with interest but never quite take off, and disappointment will fill our hearts and minds. Life will just resume as normal after a little flutter with the thought that change maybe about to happen.
So as I write this and we wait to hear back from Kickstarter, I wonder are we balancing on the thin edge of change?
I certainly feel as if Andrew and Dominic absolutely deserve some recognition for their clever microchip that will be encased in a beautiful silicone moulded design.
Time will tell. Watch this space.......
In the next few days we will hear if it meets with their criteria and then we can go live with the funding campaign, which if successful, will enable the prototype StingRay to go into production.
It has been a tense, exciting and emotional few weeks getting to this point. But I think we're ready now. The website is done, social media sites ready and press release nearly complete; all in readiness for the big launch.
The Kickstarter campaign will last 30 gruelling days, during which time we will either be a BETAMAX or VHS. Of course we want to be VHS, and by thinking positively it is then almost impossible at night to sleep without imagining about what might happen if it does get the support we seek and Andrew deserves.
As I was walking home tonight from my Metafit class I couldn't help wondering if this is will soon be the end of our sedate life in Faversham. Instead will we be flooded with enquiries, telephone calls and pledge promises that make our hearts pound and take us on a journey we have only dreamed of. Or will we watch the campaign just trickle with interest but never quite take off, and disappointment will fill our hearts and minds. Life will just resume as normal after a little flutter with the thought that change maybe about to happen.
So as I write this and we wait to hear back from Kickstarter, I wonder are we balancing on the thin edge of change?
I certainly feel as if Andrew and Dominic absolutely deserve some recognition for their clever microchip that will be encased in a beautiful silicone moulded design.
Time will tell. Watch this space.......
Sunday, 1 May 2016
What to do
Strangely as a vocal outspoken person who believes in being upfront, honest and open I am really struggling with this dilemna. Now it has to be said I have given my opinion for what's its worth but really can't believe she is not getting how bad this is or listening to my opinion if I'm honest.
Or am I so far off radar I need someone to sit me down and say "Lucy you are way off here?"
Ok here it is, all of it. You decide, what do you think?
A friend, she will be called Poppy for the sake of this blog, recently recognised after many agonising years her marriage was over. Sadly the parting of the ways was slow and in the end Poppy decided she would move out of the family home, and live in a home she owned some 10 miles away as the tenants had just vacated. Poppy moved one weekend and over time we visited and noted the home was not near public transport and enquired what were the arrangements regarding the children (16 and 18) who schooled near the family home. Now it won't surprise you to learn the children didn't really want the upheaval from their family home, away from friends and school although I am sure they missed their mother Poppy. The reason it never shocked me that the children would rather stay where they were as I myself have children the same age, and love and convenience are two different things. Convenience and ease are much more important to mature teenagers, and change is not popular especially if it involves some effort.
Over time Poppy realised the move had been good in separating her from the trauma of being unhappy within the family home with her estranged husband but now a new unhappiness was filling her, she missed her children dreadfully. They just weren't visiting and the husband wasn't exactly encouraging the situation to change either. We (a few friends) did suggest that she should move back to her home town, live nearer the children, an easy walk away where they could easily visit, hang out and get to school. It seemed so logical.
Meanwhile Poppy's husband offered to help too! He coincidently had a bungalow to rent on his books - he runs an estate agents. This bungalow was slightly out of town but Poppy convinced herself it was the solution she needed. We told her otherwise, this bungalow was not the solution she needed, it wasn't close enough, sounded grim and was doing her husband a favour.
Poppy didn't listen and moved in with our help. The day I stepped inside the three bedroom 1970's throw back bungalow with patterned wallpaper, carpets and a peach bathroom I could have wept! It was depression personified. The bastard I thought, as I imagined Poppy's husband counting his money every month and feeling pleased with himself that he had shifted this revolting bungalow from his books!
Six months on, and the children still don't visit much. They hate Poppy's home, and who can blame them. And whilst it is walkable it is a healthy walk away and lets face it how many teenagers do you know that like to walk? Yes Poppy collects them, and drops them off but this still isn't somewhere they want to call home. This home says "I'm a victim".
A by chance text communication a few days ago revealed more of the story. Poppy is now off work with depression, probably exacerbated by swirling shaggy carpets and peach loo roll.
Now I'm not at all surprised by the revelation, and I felt so sad. A loving mother has left the family home because her marriage was totally shit, and together with her husband never planned the exit, the schedule with the children and life beyond. She still contributes financially to the family home, and pays her rent too ( to her husbands company!) and she has nothing.
In her desperation she is now considering moving back to the family home to be near the children she misses so much. But this is the bit that gets me, no one is talking and Poppy told me she is proposing to live in the garden office!
"What!" I said "You are going to live in the garden and trapse up the garden path and use the bathroom and live like some third class citizen in your family home. Have some respect for yourself and your worth. Has your husband offered to sleep in the office, or has there been a discussion about moving stuff around to make room for you in the actual house?" No there has not.
But who is to blame for this mess? Poppy is so low she can't think straight and doesn't want to spend anymore money on rental and who can blame her. But this is the bit that gets me, her husband has always made her feel stupid, irrational and worthless and he is doing it again.
Here is the Rob and Helen scenario from The Archers being played out; the controlling husband who appears to be calm and helpful but playing his wife and vulnerability like a violin, the absolute bastard. And the children, well they've been brainwashed too, and the whole thing is just dire. I have told Poppy she should only move back if she has a proper bedroom, but in truth she shouldn't go back at all. I think they should sit down and talk about the finances, the children and the future and she should no longer contribute towards the family house if she is renting. But what I really want is for him to move out and let her live in the home with their children.
He has controlled her for too long, we have all watched it over the years, and she is too weak now that she can't see it. When someone makes you think you're useless, you become that person.
I want Poppy to be strong, fight for her rights but how can I make her?
Like I said at the beginning, maybe I'm wrong and off the radar but somehow I don't think so.
Or am I so far off radar I need someone to sit me down and say "Lucy you are way off here?"
Ok here it is, all of it. You decide, what do you think?
A friend, she will be called Poppy for the sake of this blog, recently recognised after many agonising years her marriage was over. Sadly the parting of the ways was slow and in the end Poppy decided she would move out of the family home, and live in a home she owned some 10 miles away as the tenants had just vacated. Poppy moved one weekend and over time we visited and noted the home was not near public transport and enquired what were the arrangements regarding the children (16 and 18) who schooled near the family home. Now it won't surprise you to learn the children didn't really want the upheaval from their family home, away from friends and school although I am sure they missed their mother Poppy. The reason it never shocked me that the children would rather stay where they were as I myself have children the same age, and love and convenience are two different things. Convenience and ease are much more important to mature teenagers, and change is not popular especially if it involves some effort.
Over time Poppy realised the move had been good in separating her from the trauma of being unhappy within the family home with her estranged husband but now a new unhappiness was filling her, she missed her children dreadfully. They just weren't visiting and the husband wasn't exactly encouraging the situation to change either. We (a few friends) did suggest that she should move back to her home town, live nearer the children, an easy walk away where they could easily visit, hang out and get to school. It seemed so logical.
Meanwhile Poppy's husband offered to help too! He coincidently had a bungalow to rent on his books - he runs an estate agents. This bungalow was slightly out of town but Poppy convinced herself it was the solution she needed. We told her otherwise, this bungalow was not the solution she needed, it wasn't close enough, sounded grim and was doing her husband a favour.
Poppy didn't listen and moved in with our help. The day I stepped inside the three bedroom 1970's throw back bungalow with patterned wallpaper, carpets and a peach bathroom I could have wept! It was depression personified. The bastard I thought, as I imagined Poppy's husband counting his money every month and feeling pleased with himself that he had shifted this revolting bungalow from his books!
Six months on, and the children still don't visit much. They hate Poppy's home, and who can blame them. And whilst it is walkable it is a healthy walk away and lets face it how many teenagers do you know that like to walk? Yes Poppy collects them, and drops them off but this still isn't somewhere they want to call home. This home says "I'm a victim".
A by chance text communication a few days ago revealed more of the story. Poppy is now off work with depression, probably exacerbated by swirling shaggy carpets and peach loo roll.
Now I'm not at all surprised by the revelation, and I felt so sad. A loving mother has left the family home because her marriage was totally shit, and together with her husband never planned the exit, the schedule with the children and life beyond. She still contributes financially to the family home, and pays her rent too ( to her husbands company!) and she has nothing.
In her desperation she is now considering moving back to the family home to be near the children she misses so much. But this is the bit that gets me, no one is talking and Poppy told me she is proposing to live in the garden office!
"What!" I said "You are going to live in the garden and trapse up the garden path and use the bathroom and live like some third class citizen in your family home. Have some respect for yourself and your worth. Has your husband offered to sleep in the office, or has there been a discussion about moving stuff around to make room for you in the actual house?" No there has not.
But who is to blame for this mess? Poppy is so low she can't think straight and doesn't want to spend anymore money on rental and who can blame her. But this is the bit that gets me, her husband has always made her feel stupid, irrational and worthless and he is doing it again.
Here is the Rob and Helen scenario from The Archers being played out; the controlling husband who appears to be calm and helpful but playing his wife and vulnerability like a violin, the absolute bastard. And the children, well they've been brainwashed too, and the whole thing is just dire. I have told Poppy she should only move back if she has a proper bedroom, but in truth she shouldn't go back at all. I think they should sit down and talk about the finances, the children and the future and she should no longer contribute towards the family house if she is renting. But what I really want is for him to move out and let her live in the home with their children.
He has controlled her for too long, we have all watched it over the years, and she is too weak now that she can't see it. When someone makes you think you're useless, you become that person.
I want Poppy to be strong, fight for her rights but how can I make her?
Like I said at the beginning, maybe I'm wrong and off the radar but somehow I don't think so.
Tuesday, 26 April 2016
Menopause
Hot sweats, low moods, mood swings, tiredness; is this menopause or just the fact I now own a puppy?
After all I do feel like I have a baby again with endless demands, needs and restrictions once more. I did say to someone the other day the early stages of owning a puppy pre-innoculations you do feel like you are suffering with post puppy natal. Being house bound, unable to cope, weary and aware you are now responsible for another life, is enough to turn anyone into a gibbering mess.
Ah but you couldn't walk your baby along the ridges of Harty Ferry, through bluebell woods, along the beach and by the creek, which is exhilarating rewarding and makes the poo, tiredness and mood swings evaporate and seem worthwhile for a little time at least.
After all I do feel like I have a baby again with endless demands, needs and restrictions once more. I did say to someone the other day the early stages of owning a puppy pre-innoculations you do feel like you are suffering with post puppy natal. Being house bound, unable to cope, weary and aware you are now responsible for another life, is enough to turn anyone into a gibbering mess.
Ah but you couldn't walk your baby along the ridges of Harty Ferry, through bluebell woods, along the beach and by the creek, which is exhilarating rewarding and makes the poo, tiredness and mood swings evaporate and seem worthwhile for a little time at least.
Thursday, 21 April 2016
Embrace the day
Tankerton Slopes is one of my favourite places to visit, walk and enjoy. Having a puppy is opening up the new opportunity of planning walks with new companions at chosen destinations, and with the brighter light, blue skies and warmth returning what could be better.
Wednesday, 20 April 2016
Todays ponders
This whole blog is self indulgent drivel about ME but it's saving me a fortune on counselling, I recommend it!
Todays revelations:
1. I hate Facebook, it can rock your world in an instant.
When you see a post and think " why wasn't I invited, I thought I was their friend!'
2. Working for yourself and from home is wonderful. You can suit yourself, enjoy planning your day around you and be flexible. Wrong. It's lonely, you constantly think you're not working enough, being productive and start to feel depressed (at least I do!) I need company, conversations and a team. But it is also made worse if No1. happens and you think I could have been there, I'm flexible.
3. Everyone sees you differently than you see yourself. I drag myself around and smile as much as I can but inside my stomach churns and I feel so low, my emotions are like a YoYo. Today has been mediocre, yesterday was good, who knows about tomorrow.
But everyone thinks I'm so happy but I'm not. Everyone thinks I can conquer everything but I am full of self doubt. But if you say that stuff people just float away because they don't know what to do with you or how to respond.
4. Fitness matters but when you're low you can't be bothered. Every time I don't go to a class I feel so cross afterwards but I can't always face the smiling people, although of course I smile too and try to look so happy. Then of course there is this fitness obsessed posse with their fitness goals and I'm not as fit as I want to be so I then hate myself a little bit more and wish I could get my act together.
Wow I'm a delight at the moment. Told you, self indulgent writing this.
5. You are never as badly off as you think. In Morrison's this afternoon I received just the tonic as I stood with my food items on the conveyor belt. As I waited in line for the cashier to finish serving the elderly gentleman in front, who was slow in paying, he then turned to me to offer me a voucher, which I was also unable to use. But I loved the interaction, the smiles and generosity of spirit. Behind me an elderly lady was placing her items on the belt, and I offered to move my items along to make more space. She said "Don't worry I have plenty of time, after all I leave here and go back to an empty home." We then proceeded to chat a little, laugh and smile about the weather and the fact I was wearing my sunglasses as the dog had chewed my other glasses! But the whole time I was struck by the idea she probably felt lonely a lot and emotionally low more than I do and actually my worries are manageable I just need to get my shit together.
6. I am so looking forward to my interview on Friday because I think when all said and done, I am so much better busy, really busy with no time to ponder, think or worry about any of the above.
Todays revelations:
1. I hate Facebook, it can rock your world in an instant.
When you see a post and think " why wasn't I invited, I thought I was their friend!'
2. Working for yourself and from home is wonderful. You can suit yourself, enjoy planning your day around you and be flexible. Wrong. It's lonely, you constantly think you're not working enough, being productive and start to feel depressed (at least I do!) I need company, conversations and a team. But it is also made worse if No1. happens and you think I could have been there, I'm flexible.
3. Everyone sees you differently than you see yourself. I drag myself around and smile as much as I can but inside my stomach churns and I feel so low, my emotions are like a YoYo. Today has been mediocre, yesterday was good, who knows about tomorrow.
But everyone thinks I'm so happy but I'm not. Everyone thinks I can conquer everything but I am full of self doubt. But if you say that stuff people just float away because they don't know what to do with you or how to respond.
4. Fitness matters but when you're low you can't be bothered. Every time I don't go to a class I feel so cross afterwards but I can't always face the smiling people, although of course I smile too and try to look so happy. Then of course there is this fitness obsessed posse with their fitness goals and I'm not as fit as I want to be so I then hate myself a little bit more and wish I could get my act together.
Wow I'm a delight at the moment. Told you, self indulgent writing this.
5. You are never as badly off as you think. In Morrison's this afternoon I received just the tonic as I stood with my food items on the conveyor belt. As I waited in line for the cashier to finish serving the elderly gentleman in front, who was slow in paying, he then turned to me to offer me a voucher, which I was also unable to use. But I loved the interaction, the smiles and generosity of spirit. Behind me an elderly lady was placing her items on the belt, and I offered to move my items along to make more space. She said "Don't worry I have plenty of time, after all I leave here and go back to an empty home." We then proceeded to chat a little, laugh and smile about the weather and the fact I was wearing my sunglasses as the dog had chewed my other glasses! But the whole time I was struck by the idea she probably felt lonely a lot and emotionally low more than I do and actually my worries are manageable I just need to get my shit together.
6. I am so looking forward to my interview on Friday because I think when all said and done, I am so much better busy, really busy with no time to ponder, think or worry about any of the above.
Monday, 18 April 2016
Hey chick what's happening!
What is happening indeed
The last time I wrote on my blog it was January and the public consultation for my proposed house build was about to close.
OMG - that so didn't happen. The public consultation period was extended twice eventually closing 20th February!
Last count 91 on-line comments and only a few in my favour.
A proposal for a modest three bedroom house absolutely rocked the Faversham public, the neighbours and swimming pool users; in their droves they have submitted comment and objection.
Comments are to be expected however I hadn't anticipated my friend who is a neighbour to join the tirade and even attend a meeting to listen and actively be part of the anti campaigners! I also hadn't realised there would be a poster campaign against the plan, Facebook posts and two stories in the local press. Either I am extremely naive, really unpopular or my plans are that controversial. I am unsure which but my confidence and self esteem have taken nose dive!
Perry Court, a local proposed development of 330 houses only received 200 comments so by proportion by application has received unprecedented response.
If you read the National Planning Framework, and believe me I have read it. Only valid planning comments should be taken into consideration not public outcry just because they don't want it.
Just to recap:
For two years I worked with Swale at pre-plan re-designing the house with their input until they were happy with the proposal.
In December 2015 Faversham Town Council agreed the plans at the council meeting, recording no objection in the minutes.
In February the Faversham Town Council invited the planning application back but they couldn't change their original decision as no material change had taken place. However this meeting was well-attended by locals and neighbours who were extremely vociferous and the council allowed their concerns to be heard. Coincidently shortly after this Swale informed us they would not be supporting the planning application after all.
On Thursday 10th March as we headed to the Swale Planning Committee meeting we were met in the gallery by lots of neighbours opposing the plans. With no support from Swale the plans received very little air time except from each representative permitted to have an allocated three minute speaking time either in support or against the scheme. Nigel Kay St Ann's Faversham ward councillor, who is also the town Mayor strangely commented the scheme had not had town councils support, the minutes show otherwise! The Chairman of Planning Committee (also a Faversham councillor) summarised, very briefly, to say Swale did not support this scheme.
How did we get this far, to receive no feedback? Where did the support suddenly go? Why are people encouraged to submit pre-plan designs to then receive no support at the last hurdle?
So many questions.
That concludes the planning nightmare for now, and it has been a total disaster of gigantic proportions. Emotionally it has been on a par with divorce, and as costly. It has left me so wrecked emotionally that I now live in the walls of my home wondering when I step outside whether I will meet a neighbour and dreading the thought.
Yes, I know. You can't expect to not receive comment but when they are personal, irrelevant and from people you thought were friends its difficult to compute.
Genuinely I can't see what all the fuss is about. It's a house proposal in an urban town, get over it!
It's about change. Anyone with my garden would do exactly the same but maybe no one wants it to be me. They all like looking out over the green, but that's my garden not a public park.
The last time I wrote on my blog it was January and the public consultation for my proposed house build was about to close.
OMG - that so didn't happen. The public consultation period was extended twice eventually closing 20th February!
Last count 91 on-line comments and only a few in my favour.
A proposal for a modest three bedroom house absolutely rocked the Faversham public, the neighbours and swimming pool users; in their droves they have submitted comment and objection.
Comments are to be expected however I hadn't anticipated my friend who is a neighbour to join the tirade and even attend a meeting to listen and actively be part of the anti campaigners! I also hadn't realised there would be a poster campaign against the plan, Facebook posts and two stories in the local press. Either I am extremely naive, really unpopular or my plans are that controversial. I am unsure which but my confidence and self esteem have taken nose dive!
Perry Court, a local proposed development of 330 houses only received 200 comments so by proportion by application has received unprecedented response.
If you read the National Planning Framework, and believe me I have read it. Only valid planning comments should be taken into consideration not public outcry just because they don't want it.
Just to recap:
For two years I worked with Swale at pre-plan re-designing the house with their input until they were happy with the proposal.
In December 2015 Faversham Town Council agreed the plans at the council meeting, recording no objection in the minutes.
In February the Faversham Town Council invited the planning application back but they couldn't change their original decision as no material change had taken place. However this meeting was well-attended by locals and neighbours who were extremely vociferous and the council allowed their concerns to be heard. Coincidently shortly after this Swale informed us they would not be supporting the planning application after all.
On Thursday 10th March as we headed to the Swale Planning Committee meeting we were met in the gallery by lots of neighbours opposing the plans. With no support from Swale the plans received very little air time except from each representative permitted to have an allocated three minute speaking time either in support or against the scheme. Nigel Kay St Ann's Faversham ward councillor, who is also the town Mayor strangely commented the scheme had not had town councils support, the minutes show otherwise! The Chairman of Planning Committee (also a Faversham councillor) summarised, very briefly, to say Swale did not support this scheme.
How did we get this far, to receive no feedback? Where did the support suddenly go? Why are people encouraged to submit pre-plan designs to then receive no support at the last hurdle?
So many questions.
That concludes the planning nightmare for now, and it has been a total disaster of gigantic proportions. Emotionally it has been on a par with divorce, and as costly. It has left me so wrecked emotionally that I now live in the walls of my home wondering when I step outside whether I will meet a neighbour and dreading the thought.
Yes, I know. You can't expect to not receive comment but when they are personal, irrelevant and from people you thought were friends its difficult to compute.
Genuinely I can't see what all the fuss is about. It's a house proposal in an urban town, get over it!
It's about change. Anyone with my garden would do exactly the same but maybe no one wants it to be me. They all like looking out over the green, but that's my garden not a public park.
Monday, 4 January 2016
Monday - back to normality
The first Monday after the Christmas and New Year festivities is always difficult. Returning to the office, school and routine a shock to the system, although I know for some families an absolute relief.
I woke early and went for a run then did some core exercises in the garden, new year, new me and those extra kilos just aren't going to shift themselves. More importantly I feel the more I get out and run the easier I find it to deal or at least try to cope with other stuff.
We did go and view puppies on Saturday, and my heart didn't take over my head. I am so relieved. I didn't like the breeder, the home or the smell. The puppies were all asleep and looked like most four week old bundles of fur but the whole feeling around the dogs felt odd. Standing in a small airless kitchen with wet grown dogs leaping about and a breeder who seemed too focussed on money rather than where the puppies might actually be going, ensured my possible enthusiasm diminished quickly. The one bitch was sold under our noses and I had been keen on a bitch. However I did think that I might be caught in the moment and convince myself I wanted a male after all. But I didn't.
What next.
I should hear about my building application at the end of January, this will then determine the possible dog purchase. If it looks as if I have a long fight ahead, I think my focus and energy should be on that rather than a puppy.
As I packed away the Christmas decorations last night and popped the box into the roof I wrote three things down in the box before sealing it, and maybe by the end of this year those three things will be answered.
Is life always full of questions and the unknown? According to lots of philosophical posts on Facebook over the new year it is. And we must enjoy the journey, live in the here and now, travel and floss daily, happy 2016!
I woke early and went for a run then did some core exercises in the garden, new year, new me and those extra kilos just aren't going to shift themselves. More importantly I feel the more I get out and run the easier I find it to deal or at least try to cope with other stuff.
We did go and view puppies on Saturday, and my heart didn't take over my head. I am so relieved. I didn't like the breeder, the home or the smell. The puppies were all asleep and looked like most four week old bundles of fur but the whole feeling around the dogs felt odd. Standing in a small airless kitchen with wet grown dogs leaping about and a breeder who seemed too focussed on money rather than where the puppies might actually be going, ensured my possible enthusiasm diminished quickly. The one bitch was sold under our noses and I had been keen on a bitch. However I did think that I might be caught in the moment and convince myself I wanted a male after all. But I didn't.
What next.
I should hear about my building application at the end of January, this will then determine the possible dog purchase. If it looks as if I have a long fight ahead, I think my focus and energy should be on that rather than a puppy.
As I packed away the Christmas decorations last night and popped the box into the roof I wrote three things down in the box before sealing it, and maybe by the end of this year those three things will be answered.
Is life always full of questions and the unknown? According to lots of philosophical posts on Facebook over the new year it is. And we must enjoy the journey, live in the here and now, travel and floss daily, happy 2016!
Saturday, 2 January 2016
Being the talk of the street!
It's good to be back here but for different reasons this time. I realise how cathartic it is to write thoughts and feelings down, especially when you feel surrounded by negativity. It releases them from inside and allows you to breathe more deeply.
And so here goes......
I woke early today; mind racing, heart pounding and with a whirling feeling in my tummy. It is a mixture of pure excitement and fear.
I have kept myself pretty much to myself since living here, and perhaps that has appeared aloof to some but my goodness it matters not now, as many neighbours have shown their true colours and venom on-line and those comments cannot be retracted. I hope it made them feel better, and I will just hope that the rest of the planning process is less personal and more constructive.
And the other reason for waking suddenly in the early hours of the morning with my tummy churning, is the unadulterated excitement of going to visit some puppies today. I am not a person who thinks every household needs a pet, or indeed is something I have wanted until now. But for the last six months I have really wanted the companionship of a dog. I would love to run/walk with a dog daily and have a reason to get up and go out every morning. I do run, I do exercise outside lots but I would really enjoy having a little canine friend to share that with, and I never thought I would be saying that. I will openly admit the picking up of dog poo has been the one aspect that has held me back. I abhor dog owners who leave their dog shit for others to see, smell and walk in, and also realise picking up a big steaming poo in a plastic bag is gross, but if you want a dog you have to be in for the whole bit. I am ready, and poo bags a-go!
It is only the second day of January, and there is so much to think about. I am buzzing about this year and optimistic of what is will bring. I will have to build up my resilience and thick shell to take the tirade of comments, opinions and feelings and be strong. How easy it is to be hurtful and much harder to be controlled, gracious and forgiving. I will try.
Here's to 2016 and all that it brings, lets hope I can cope.
And so here goes......
I woke early today; mind racing, heart pounding and with a whirling feeling in my tummy. It is a mixture of pure excitement and fear.
If you ever wondered what people truly think about you put a planning application in and wait!
Today the public consultation for the proposed house build in my rear garden closes. And now for the time being no more comments can be loaded on-line from the neighbours. The planning process will begin and the next stage of decisions and comment made. I am apprehensive and excited about the hopeful outcome but hadn't expected the neighbours comments to be so personal, emotive and hurtful. I knew that there would be comments but it feels as if some neighbours have vented years of frustration, and I am the most hated person on my street. The one aspect that has cut through me and I keep telling myself they have the issue not me, is the reference to my family, my life and my circumstances that people presume to know and understand.I have kept myself pretty much to myself since living here, and perhaps that has appeared aloof to some but my goodness it matters not now, as many neighbours have shown their true colours and venom on-line and those comments cannot be retracted. I hope it made them feel better, and I will just hope that the rest of the planning process is less personal and more constructive.
And the other reason for waking suddenly in the early hours of the morning with my tummy churning, is the unadulterated excitement of going to visit some puppies today. I am not a person who thinks every household needs a pet, or indeed is something I have wanted until now. But for the last six months I have really wanted the companionship of a dog. I would love to run/walk with a dog daily and have a reason to get up and go out every morning. I do run, I do exercise outside lots but I would really enjoy having a little canine friend to share that with, and I never thought I would be saying that. I will openly admit the picking up of dog poo has been the one aspect that has held me back. I abhor dog owners who leave their dog shit for others to see, smell and walk in, and also realise picking up a big steaming poo in a plastic bag is gross, but if you want a dog you have to be in for the whole bit. I am ready, and poo bags a-go!
It is only the second day of January, and there is so much to think about. I am buzzing about this year and optimistic of what is will bring. I will have to build up my resilience and thick shell to take the tirade of comments, opinions and feelings and be strong. How easy it is to be hurtful and much harder to be controlled, gracious and forgiving. I will try.
Here's to 2016 and all that it brings, lets hope I can cope.
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