I've been hiding in the bedroom. I think I've mentioned before that this house feels a bit like a tree house or a goldfish bowl: it's a Cumbrian Bank Barn which means it's kind of upside-down - you come in downstairs but we live upstairs where the room is dominated by glass doors onto what was the "bank", originally the entrance to the threshing floor. From most windows at the front there is no visible sky, just tree branches and mountain side. Anyway, a man turned up today to clear the roof of moss and all day we've been stuck here watching clods of sodden mud raining down like cow pats from the sky and getting our knickers in a twist about insensitive timing and the almost hilarious speed at which long neglected things are being done now that we're being kicked out. Now the roof and gutters have been de-mossed it will make it all much nicer for the landlords but right now it just means our windows are splattered with mud and my "garden" of pots outside the big window is like the Somme. I'm moaning, I'm sorry, we're grateful, it needed doing. It's just that we felt trapped, especially when the landlord stood outside the window chatting with the roof guy as if we didn't exist, as if lockdown didn't exist and things were crappy enough but now it looks a mess too.
Poo sticks! It's so boring to keep going on about it when I want to talk about art and trees and lovely things but I think its probably worth noting that both of us have been sailing really stormy seas this week and just as we feel briefly calm the enormity of the stuff we have to sort in the next few weeks (time that should be spent on other things) crashes down again and at times we've both admitted that we've doubted our own reality, were worried we were wrong, had been naive and had brought it on ourselves by "making a fuss". Today's "Hot Ear" conversation put my mind at rest a little; there may be nothing we can do or change, we will have to leave, but the situation is not of our making and didn't need to be like this. I'm so angry that this could easily be happening to other people in much tougher circumstances, in fact it is, all the time and people need to know that. I found some useful site's today that I hadn't been aware of but always hoped existed, one is Ask Tenants which attempts to redress the imbalance whereby checks are compulsory for prospective tenants but there are no similar checks on landlords or properties for rent.
Yes, I know, I should shut up in case it ruins our chances of finding a new place but I can't. We ARE good tenants. Injustice thrives on silence.
Here are some imaginary and illusionary houses...
The black and white tree house picture only surfaced recently while my brother was scanning some old negatives. I have no memory of the place, a family friend's garden, but I was immediately surprised at the similarity to my slightly surly tree house girl. Weren't the 70's funny, I have no idea how I got up a tree in a lace mini dress, am I happy or stuck?
I haven't drawn anything new today but I have been packing some orders, lining up my ducks and feeling very emotional about the lovely comments people have been writing. Thank you so much.
Want to see something beautiful now? For several years David Wilson, a stained glass designer and art college friend of my parents, has been sending me occasional funny and encouraging messages (he grew up in Osmotherley where I used to live, went to Middlesbrough Art College and eventually moved to New York) Today I looked at his updated website and am now fantasising about building a swimming pool with stained glass walls, a light filled room with angels and abstract panels and warm blue water...ok, I know but it's good to dream isn't it. Aren't they something?!
Images ©DavidWilsonDesign