Base Station.

Day eight.

Have you ever stood at the bottom of a very high mountain and looked up and thought 'that is one very very high mountain'.   I felt that way today

The porch. The door will not open any further than this.

The reason, this is behind it.


I've been in to visit 7 days out of the 8 he's been in hospital after falling off the ladder.  I've NEVER felt more like murdering someone than I have today. The hospital have said he can't come home unless he has a clear walkway and no danger of falling. He knows it must be cleared. There simply is nobody else to do this apart from me. I need to start as soon as possible as I have no idea when they plan to release him and this is going to take months. My brother also lives in the house but the hold my father has on him and he has learning disabilities, it means he has no idea where to start and is genuinely scared of throwing things out in case he gets into trouble.  My throwing things out sends him into a panic.  This is not going to be an easy job.  If the house is not clear when they are ready to release him there will be nowhere for him to go.  If he cannot return home he will need a nursing home.  That will be unaffordable and probably not an option when he has his own house.  Living with me is not an option as I have a small house with 2 adults and three children.  His house is an unbelievable mess and hoarded to the top of the doors.  When I go there I feel an overwhelming urge to leave. The smell of musty old dirt is vile and I have severe allergies to dust.

Today I spent FOUR hours clearing just the front porch.  All the stuff reached down the thirteen large steps outside the house - it all had to come out so I could clean behind it, sort it and replace it.  Four hours later at least it was possible to open the front door fully and also the sliding door.  Four full on hours and all I can do is open the door but I feel I have at least got my mountaineering boots on.

From memory today I sorted 27 bottles of wine old and new, three commercial lighting units. 3 boxes of 'bits' a carrier bag full of the broken wing mirror from the focus which was smashed off three years ago and replaced a month later (all bits in a carrier bag), magazines and catalogues from 1982, newspapers from 1996, junk mail, a brand new Readers Digest book 'Spots first Christmas' aimed at 2-3 year olds (assume bought for my kids now aged 8,8 and 10). One record player (salvaged from a skip from a neighbour's house clearance shortly after he died in 2002). 12 tins of spaghetti, 18 tins of soup - some dated 2003, a big bag of fertiliser for the garden, a roll of earth wire, half a bicycle mudguard, an old inner tube, a brand new still packaged 'my little pony' pencil case, eraser, pencil and key ring, four pairs of garden clogs (when asked why four pairs he said of course he had bought them online and needed to buy enough to make the postage viable). seven scout post Christmas cards with stamps from 2009 - unopened, 2 extension leads, several bits of wood, a paperback, seven leather sandals from Benidorm unused, many many perished rubber bands, some rusty keys, three boxes with bits of wood in, an old telephone, a brand new book of stamps including 1/2p stamps, an electrical catalogue from 1998, a pot of plastic flowers, 3 rusty dog leads, a barometer (cracked), an old photo album (unused), .... and that is only what I can remember.

There are now three bags of recycling and two bags of rubbish which I have had to persuade neighbours to put in their bins as he's filled his two huge bins with small bits of wood.

I went in to the hospital for today's visit.  After telling me in great detail how to pay a bill for him by cheque - which I had already told him I had already paid (and then looking irritated that I wouldn't 'listen to him and learn') and then giving me further abuse for not going to his branch as 'they know him in there' so they could have paid the bill for him.  I did explain I was a fully functioning adult and indeed had paid cheques and indeed even had my own cheque account for several years! - and not forgetting I worked for a bank for eleven years.  After explaining due to the Data Protection Act and indeed customer security - for his own protection, a letter would not do and that I had ALREADY paid his bill with my own cash (and he could pay me back with a cheque).  Despite me telling him this he exclaimed ' to hell with the bloody Data Protection Act' this bill needs to be paid.  It was a full ten minutes of me wondering what type of results jumping out the window from the sixth floor would acheive until he bothered to actually listen to me.  I must be such an irritation to him, not listening and not taking my three children to a bank a ten minute car journey away to give the bank a letter I knew they wouldn't accept simply because 'they knew him in there'.  So inconsiderate I am, to pay for his bill with my cash as now he had to fill in a cheque for me (except I had already done this to save time) - he just had to sign it. So bloody incompetent I am because the banks don't work on trust anymore.

He said loudly to my brother 'your sister can be quite nice when she is not in a bad mood' I pointed out I had spent FOUR HOURS clearing just his porch today (so that he can come home).  He says 'Heavens only knows what has been thrown out'.  He's written a list of things to bring in - so I have to go to his house again to get these.  Not a word of thanks to date - in fact he acts like it is the highlight of MY day when I visit him.  That I have three kids 8,8 and 10 on school holidays doesn't figure in his calculations.  All my running around has to be done with three kids in tow.  I work four nights a week from 3.30 til 9.30 so have to nip to visit him before my shift on the days I work.

Today he said to me - 'you can bring my radio when you come tomorrow' - not whether I will be able to come tomorrow or would I mind coming tomorrow.
I said 'Tomorrow I will be in to visit between 2 and 3 as I'm working.'
'When do you finish work?' he says, ignoring me
'Usual time dad - 9.30 so I will be in 2 - 3'.  I've done the same hours for the past year.
'Oh that's FAR too late you can't come then its too late'
'No dad so that is why I am coming 2 - 3'
'What time do you start?'
'Usual time dad 3.30 - same time I always start so I will come 2-3'.
'Well then you can come before that'
'bang bang bang' - (the sound of me banging my head on a wall).

Yes he did have a hearing aid but he lost it in about 1996.  No surprise there really  It's SO annoying as there is no recognition it may be HIM who has the hearing issue - he acts more like it is ME who has a speech impediment. (or as I suspect he believes simply has nothing of any intelligence or importance to say).

I got back home after dropping my brother back home to the mountain, I had the old record player the deceased neighbours' relatives had thrown in the skip, in my car.  My plan was to take it to the skip tomorrow. I was SOOO wound up I dropped it in the street and kicked it to death.  I feel marginally better.  My neighbours may be a tad concerned though.  I hope nobody saw me!