heavy duty gloves sent up along with replacements by a Dad... the side of times when I not spoke or wrote of demolishing things. Dad was unable to come himself to assist. He was in the middle of those cancer treatments that leave you weak to do anything but hope to recover from the eat within.
And then this came to a halt when a series of events were to muddle me up some more. I had even contemplated a trompe l'oeil fireplace, where the gas boiler upgrade left me without a lounge focal point.
No such happenings, a rare brief burst of inspired decor gone as quickly as the initial thought. Another enjoyable task in life diminished to the realms of horror. The burst of refreshing the decor gave immense enjoyment once, gone again. This time back to July last year when we came together to make an indent start on a room I failed to enjoy.
The curtains changed in a clearance sale. The floor space appearing that I can at least lay down a bit of colour on the black concrete floor. This entices me in a dank area of things that are giving up delights along with the strange behaviours of a list mind.
All a little more regular in honing into the daily trials, the errors of integrating back into social interaction. I still have days where I rather curl up, I do find a lot outside off putting now. The scenario I face ridiculous to me.
A time where this week has seen the red lines in place outside the supersonic store of town stopping the shopping trolleys beyond this boundary.
I once used these trolleys to shift belongings from place to place, like a homeless person. When I could not live in a home paid for. A time when nonsense of a silly season did indeed made me homeless ...
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