I’ve been intending on writing a blog post for weeks, but yet again I’ve been swept up in a flurry of activity that has left me without the time to just sit down and scribble/type/dribble all over the keyboard. How did November come around already? How can I be subjected to Christmas advertisements and the dull, grey misty skies of the eleventh month of the year already? Where has 2011 gone? What the hell am I doing?!?!
Actually, I’ve been doing quite a lot since my freelance ‘office’ days were suddenly reduced by 25% a month. You’d think I’d be out hunting for work like a normal person. But you’re probably getting to know me a bit by now and if there’s anything I’ve learnt about myself (and been told), I’m not typical or normal or run of the mill in many ways. I just don’t function in that way. So although I have spent a considerable amount of time putting together an interim website to showcase my professional “talents”, I have also spent a considerable amount of time doing other activities that may not have always been a top priority, but have always been on my To Do Someday list. I thought it was about time that I acquired some new skills, seeing as I have a little extra time, and a minuscule amount of breathing space before I have to go out and win me some more freelance work.
So after doing a very good impersonation of whirling dervlish whilst I tried to tidy up the house and bring some semblance of order to my tumbledown home, I was in the mindset to Try New Things. I spend a lot of my time on computers, and in my spare time, I’ve turned into somewhat of a practical beast. My first task was sorting out my parents’ bedroom. My Mum and Dad downsized a few years ago into a DIY nightmare of a house. We’re talking live wires in the walls, random and weird DIY solutions such as drilling a hole through the outside wall to move an internal aerial cable from one floor to another. The house had been inhabited by about 5 owners in 10 years or something ridiculous, each of which put their own dodgy “mark” on the property. In the year or so before and after Nannie died, my parents went through a lot. As over 50s, they’ve struggled to find work. They’re worried for their future. They haven’t been able to repair and renovate the house as they intended and they’ve been constantly living in other people’s disastrous mess. So Rich and I (in return for being fed rock cakes and other delights, for gardening services from my Mum, and for assistance with my online business) started renovating their bathroom. We had to back pedal so far to undo all the dodgy DIY that a year on, it’s still a bare shell.
But in the summer, I took to my parents’ bedroom with a wallpaper steamer. I told Mum we were going to get one room in the house straight. A place for them to have their own mark on. Mum has been pretty beaten down by everything that’s happened to them and the constant stress, so she found it very hard to go along with my bullish attitude. But I pressed ahead, and started on the bedroom. Mum got more enthusiastic. We ripped up the disgusting, ill-fitted carpet. Mum repainted the fitted wardrobes from a drab 80s grey to new white. She painted the ceiling, painted the walls in a gorgeous mellow buttercream and glossed all the original 30s wordwork. A few weeks passed with little happening. We discovered some very dodgy floorboard cutting, where the floorboards had been cut next to the joists and were essentially ‘floating’ with nothing to hold them on. They’d been replaced by badly fitting bits of wood that creaked and groaned when any weight was placed on them. So Rich brought around our DeWalt mitre saw (my practical present to him a few years ago - it’s an amazing piece of kit!) and we bought a pack of new floorboards, put in a new joist (reclaimed from a renovated house down the road) and voila - new, safe, non-creaky floorboards. Mum went out with some money she’d saved up over the last few months and managed to wrangle the carpet salesman down to her budget on a piece of end-of-roll carpet. “Dad said he’ll fit it,” she told me. The carpet lay in the empty room for a week. Dad is always working at his craply paid sales job. I knew he wouldn’t have the time or inclination to lay the carpet. So I called Mum up.
“Mum, I’ve watched a video on how to do it, and I’m going to lay your carpet,” I proclaimed. We had a few carpet laying bits and bobs and I’d helped Rich lay one in a small back room of our house. So I went round and Mum helped me lay the carpet out. I struggled with getting the tension right. I swore a lot. I swore more and refused to give in. I got very cross. I think Mum felt like taking me out with the carpet stretcher. I called Rich and he came round and told me I was doing OK. He helped a little. I felt less angry.
After two days of kicking in, cutting, tucking, more kicking in, carpet rash on my knees and two minor gashes from the stanley knife on my hand, I finished the job. We didn’t need professionals. We’d renovated the whole room for £147. Rich and I helped Mum move the bed back in, put the curtain rail up. Mum got out her new bedside light lampshades that she’d bought for pennies at a carboot. We moved Nannie’s old turn of the century dresser in. The room was complete. Mum hugged me and told me how lovely it was, how lovely I am. Dad came home from work and called me up to exclaim about what a good job I’d done.
I felt proud. I’d fitted a carpet, and helped Mum and Dad finish their first job. Mum text me last night to say how lovely the bedroom still is. I’m so pleased. It’s the small things in life, yada yada… You can see my carpet fitting shenanigans here. Careful! It might be too rock’n'roll for your liking…
But that’s not my only practical endeavour. Not only have I fitted floorboards, fitted a carpet, and made an apple crumble of late (I need sustenance for all this practical work), but last week I finally got the sewing machine out that I inherited from Nannie in 2008, and read the instructions. Sewing machines have always been a mystery to me. I’ve always wanted to able to make thing for myself - a vital aspect of self sufficiency - but again it’s one of those things that I just never got around to. But I managed to thread it up, and started practising on some scrap fabric. You see, I have a fundraiser craft fair that I’m helping at in December, and Mum and I have a half stall that we’re selling things on. So we needs things to sell. Whilst Mum is perfectly adept at sewing, knitting and such, I am not. But I hope in a few weeks, I’ll have something to show. I managed to make a little hanging dove in funky fabric as a first little project, and I’m hoping to eventually progress to the likes of soft furnishings (we need curtains in this house), clothes and bags for myself. Recycle old fabric and make something new from something old. I really enjoy that.
So whilst I continue to grapple with my sewing machine, get the knitting needles out (I had a disaster with circular knitting needles and almost punched something when it all went wrong), and look for more excuses to hone my DIY skills (I have my eye on our crumbly windows and there’s also still Mum and Dad’s bathroom to finish), in the back of my mind I’m fully aware that my financial situation has to improve. I see these new skills that I’m learning as more strings to my bow, more steps forward on the road to some degree of semi-self sufficiency. I like being capable.
But I can’t ignore that I need more savings, more income and that I am going to have to think ahead a lot. I’ve had a lot of encouragement behind the scenes with finding new work and new clients, and the prospects are not at all bleak - if I put in the time and effort. I don’t expect it to be easy, but I know if I focus I can do it. And then, with my physiotherapy and the prospect of being finally ‘fixed’, a full time job working at a desk is also an option I can start to reconsider.
But if I have learned anything from the past few weeks, it is this. My current dream - that I share with Rich - remains property restoration and development, preferably with an eco twist. I love being practical,and feeling tired in a good, physical way at the end of the day. I like seeing my progress. I love seeing something new come from something old, to see new life breathed into something. I really, really like that idea… I just need to get the funds together to make it happen, and for now, that means working my backside off.
Tags: DIY, renovation, restorating, skills, work
The passing of our family ancient cat Ted. The passing of the season. The passing of a quarter of my regular income every month. There are many things have have come to and end recently in my life, not all bad but not all particularly welcome, but changes nonetheless. Again, it feels as if my life is suddenly shifting in a series of small degrees which sends me on a slightly different tangent to whatever path I was previously following. I don’t feel melancholic… just like things have yet again shifted and I have to find my feet again.
Sounds deep, doesn’t it? It’s just sometimes it feels as though I’m bumbling along, trying to get things to work in the way that I want (and need) them to, and then suddenly something happens that forces my hand. Makes me have to reconsider things, make new plans, make choices. This time, it’s mostly to do with work. I found out on Tuesday that I was to lose one day a week of regular income through no fault of my own - I was effectively made redundant, although I was working in a freelance capacity and had no contract per se to speak of. So the effect is immediate, and means a 25% cut in the work that I count as my ‘regular income’. For this month at least I have a grace period thanks to a freelance cheque that will be arriving soon, but after that I shall be digging deep to find some more work. And digging even deeper in my wallet.
So for now, the pressure is back on. Again.
You see, there are two things in my life that have held me back over the years. Lack of substantial funds (and I’m guessing that a good proportion of the population of this country are in the same boat), and my back. Work is going to be even more challenging, but that’s the life of a freelancer.
But with my back, things are at least changing for the better. I’ve started some physiotherapy, and it seems that after 15 years, we’re finally getting to the crux of why I’m constantly in pain, why I can’t work 5 days a week without being virtually crippled, and why I am the wobbly but essentially screwed up ball of tightness and stress that I am. My physio has described my ‘case’ as “very interesting” and “very complicated” and “widepsread”. She says my overall condition is like a big onion, where we’re having to peel away at each layer to get to the centre of the problem. And best of all, she says I am fixable.
You have no idea how that feels to hear those words. After 15 years of constant background aches and pains, as well as incidents where I couldn’t even stand up straight and walk properly despite only being only in my 20s, this revelation is like music to my ears. I am fixable. This isn’t the way it always has to be.
Apparently in some areas of my body, I have no muscle strength whatsoever, because somewhere along the line, something happened to a specific joint (I think) and knocked me completely out of kilter. So other dominant muscles have taken over, my body has tried to adapt to moving in a certain way and it’s causing all this pain and strain, lack of balance, and at times, immobility. Added to that, year upon year of stress (some self-inflicted, but at other times prolonged periods of things that happened to me and were simply out of my control) has turned me into a rigid, stringy ball of concrete. And apparently I don’t breathe properly, because of the way I’ve come to hold myself and move. So that compounds the problem. I can’t physically relax properly. I haven’t been able to physically relax for years. I’ve always felt out of kilter.
So we’re not only peeling back each layer, solving each physical problem as we go, but we’re building me up again. I’m going to get stronger and more competent, and I’m going to be able to relax. And sleep properly. The prospect of actually being able to consider full-time work, to be able to dig for more than 10 minutes without experiencing two days of back pain, to drift off to sleep without pain, to move freely and without caution as well as being able to actually relax my body (and hopefully, my mind), is just… well, I guess I feel relieved. Relief that it’s not just *me* and that there’s actually some tangible reason why I feel tense and awkward and jerky and off-balance a lot of the time. Believe me, I will be doing all that I can to get myself into the condition I should have been all these years.
So at least in one important aspect of my life, we’re finally moving in the direction that I want to go. And although I’ve taken a hit in the financial department, I’ve got to look at the opportunities it might present. I have a few things I’m looking into but for now I’ll just be working harder, longer hours and tightening my belt. Much like a lot of other people around the country at the moment. Given the rising food prices, petrol prices and general living costs, it’s not going to be a walk in the park, but then it never has been for me. At least I have a roof over my head, food on the table and I’m an onion that’s fixable.
I think I’ve got that right?
Tags: finances, physiotherapy, work
I’m sitting here at quarter past nine on a Saturday morning wondering whether I ought to be going out for a run, making a start on my freelance work this morning, tidying the house or perhaps tidying the back doorstep for the milkman (as of last Monday, we now have organic milk via our local dairy). Nothing fun on the list, you’ll notice. Because that’s my life at the moment, a never-ending list of Boring But Necessary Things to Do. I’m so busy all the time. I’ve never been like this in my life before, and I’m not sure how it happened. I used to be so lazy in comparison, but now I feel like in between office work, freelance work, conference planning, website building, house chores and looking after my animals, if I’m not *doing* something, I’m wasting valuable time in which I could be doing something useful and productive. It’s so strange, like some sort of hyperactivity. I’m finding it so hard to just stop and take time out, I literally feel as if I don’t have time for it.
In my last post - which was weeks ago - I was moaning about my clutter claustrophobia. You’ll probably be quite surprised to read that rather than sit on my backside mulling it over and feeling cross, I actually did something about it. We were due to go camping on during my 10 days of “holiday” from work, but as luck would have it, it decided to basically piss it down all week whilst the remnants of hurricane Irene passed over the British Isles. So not exactly the best camping weather.
Suffice to say, we didn’t go. I had to do something constructive before I went back to work, so I cracked on with the decluttering. Proactive, you see. My ethos was (and is) that I’ll be stuck in the house more often than not during the forthcoming winter, so I want it to at least be a less irritating experience. I must have spent about 5 straight days just turning out stuff - university stuff, school stuff, non-identifiable stuff, old clothes, boxes of things like cassettes and blurry photographs of someone’s left nostril, empty boxes “just in case” we needed them, old calendars… the rubbish you keep because… well, I couldn’t say why I kept most of it to be honest. Memories, I suppose. So what I hadn’t looked at or needed in 12 months (save a few precious bits and pieces) were dutifully bagged up between the charity shop and our kerb-side recycling, and as little as possible went into general household waste for the tip. Our local tidy tip is pretty good on the recycling front, so all in all, I’d say most of it has gone for recycling.
So things are looking a bit more ship-shape inside. The Smallest Smallholding house is still falling down around our ears, but the piles that I weave around are slowly dissipating, and my goodness does it feel good. It’s surprising how much of a positive effect a good decluttering session can have. It makes me feel so much more normal and, dare I say it, relaxed. I installed a new bookcase in the bedroom to house my countless piles of books and I was such a happy bunny the day we put it together, because it means that I have space to manoeuvre when I open the door now. And it looks neat! NEAT! And it’s so much easier to keep clean and tidy.
Gosh. When did I become such a domestic type? I think I must be growing up. At last.
So yes. We’ve tackled the bedrooms and my office room (the spare smallest bedroom) is now half-done. Next up I think is the utility room, which is a whole other project in itself. Because Rich is possibly much more self sufficient than I am when it comes to practical skills, he has tools to do things. Lots of them. And since our shed fell apart and we haven’t got the funds together to replace it yet, we’re housing a lot of DIY/Gardening stuff amongst the detritus of utility room inhabitants like laundry things, bulbs, WD40, spare screws and wotnots. Yes, wotnots. British Gas want to service our boiler, but I’m not letting them in until it’s sorted out. So that’s probably another fortnight’s worth of work, plus we need to tile the floor because this will be the fourth or fifth winter that we’ve had a bare concrete floor throughout the kitchen and utility room. Bare concrete + draughty house = freezing.
So as the house as been holding so much of my attention, you can imagine what a state the Smallest Smallholding is in. Weedy doesn’t even begin to cover it. My last concerted effort to do something productive out there involved picking up some windfall crab apples so we could mow around the veg plots, under the fruit trees and in the non-functional side of the plot. I’ve also half-heartedly pulled a few weeds before they turn to seed, but other than that… nothing. Zip. Nada. I just haven’t got the time in between work and the house, and I’m not getting myself in a stress about it. There’s just no point. In a way, my lack of attention hasn’t been all bad because in the work-in-progress that is the Mediterranean area, a swathe of larkspur, poppies, accidental giant sunflowers and a few other wild flowers had self-sown themselves and sprung to life. The bees have been so busy in that little wild patch, so much so that even if I had had the time I would have left it anyway, because I can see amongst the green shrubbery of Suburbia here there’s not a else for pollen-loving insects to enjoy this Autumn. I’m planning on collecting the Larkspur seeds because they looked stunning, and they obviously thrive in sandy soil down there, and next year will make a beautiful, colourful early autumn addition to my “planting scheme”. Sometimes nature just knows best, and you have to go with it. I think this is definitely one of those times when she’s given me a massive helping hand, and I’ll be sure to take her up on her advice.
But back to my veg plots. Things seem to be taking care of the themselves. I’ve been harvesting carrot tops because they’re free food for the bunnies. But because I’ve been pulling out the tops, the roots haven’t grown very big. So no carrots this year - but at least we’ve saved a fair amount on bunny food. The kale and spinach is, as you probably know, so adept at looking after itself and my Polka raspberries from Victoriana Nursery Gardens have fruited so successfully again this year. Inside the greenhouse, I’ve hit a snag with the strawbale growing of my squash mix. Despite leaving plenty of ventilation, the large squash leaves obviously need lots of fresh air because they’ve gone quite mildewy and wilted. They’re still taking over the greenhouse to the extent that I can literally just get one foot in the door, but they’re nowhere near as healthy as my outside grown varieties last year. PLUS - and this is a lesson learned this year - I don’t think they pollinate very well in the greenhouse either, because there’s definitely less fruit than my outdoor squashes last year. I don’t think we’ll be getting any 8lb beasts this time around. But there you are - you live and learn. I’ll definitely be giving the straw bales a go outside next year, because the plants obviously like them, and the few that are growing over the bricked path and the straw bales in the greenhouse are rot-free and looking OK. We shall see on closer inspection just how well they’ve fared.
I think once the decluttering is done on the house, I will definitely be turning my attentions to my Smallest Smallholding, which is due for its own kind of decluttering. I guess what I’m ultimately looking for (as is everybody else), are veg and flowers that are low-maintenance and productive. Can you believe it’s taken me almost 5 years to come to that heady conclusion? I’ve finally realised that as a real person with probably more ’spare time’ outside of the office than most, I still can’t handle a (relatively) small plot and part-time vegetable growing. I’ve finally stopped beating myself up about it. So after the house has been put in order for the winter, it’s something I’ll be turning my attentions to - because I want to carry on with this stab at semi self-sufficiency and slot it into my life properly, and prove that it can be done.
What’s this? Two posts in less than a month? You have GOT to be joking. Something must be amiss…
To tell the truth, I’m sitting here wondering what on earth to do with myself because I’ve managed to yet again contract a cold, and I’m being utterly useless. I’ve done nothing but lay in bed half the day whilst getting gradually more worked up because if there’s one thing that grinds my gears (in the words of Peter Griffin), it’s feeling so crap that you can’t do anything, but being mentally alert enough to know that there is so much that needs doing, and the longer you don’t do it, the more the rubbish jobs mount up whilst you idle your hours away sprawled out willing yourself to get back to normal. Whatever normal is.
There is so much to do, and lately I feel like I have adopted my Dad’s inability to not doing anything for more than 10 minutes. Seriously - it seems these days that as soon as I wake, my brain is doing a breakdown of all the tasks I’ve assigned it, and it’s assessing the likelihood of whether I’m likely to achieve my set tasks based on:
- a) how well I feel/any impending illnesses
- b) is my back behaving itself today
- c) did I get enough sleep last night to enable satisfactory brain function levels (I can never get enough)
- d) what deadlines have I got looming on the horizon and how many hours do I need to dedicate to certain work-related writing tasks
- e) who needs what from me today
- f) how motived do I feel
- g) my levels of crankiness and whether my stress-head will make everything seem one hundred times harder than it actually is.
Tags: clutter, delcuttering
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