Imelda is Acting Strangely - Don't Panic - It's Normal.

I have left well alone for three weeks and look what happens..

8 December 2013

The wheelie bin - weekly collections.  No this wood is not going anywhere - this bin is not going anywhere either it appears it is staying there to be used as a wood storage facility.  Cardiff council do not accept/collect bin bags anymore - everything has to be in the black bin (or green for garden waste - which is also full of bits of wood).  

So what on earth is Imelda going to use for putting out his rubbish?

Putting out his rubbish!  What an absolutely preposterous suggestion.

This is 'the sofa' taken today - as you can see nobody has sat on this sofa since the cameras left.  The black bags are the SAME bags which the clutter clearers used for bits picked up from the floor.  These were/are full of total rubbish which could have been looked at and disposed of in five minutes by me but which has taken Imelda four weeks and counting.  Oh and look - another box on top of them oh and another in front.

Imelda is now allowed to drive his green, silver Ford Focus.  He has shiny new tax and MOT and he has his independence back.  He came to my house yesterday for the first time since the fall in August as it was my bloke's birthday.  He came in and trudged through the house.  The kids had left a pile of drawings on the floor by the armchair.  Imelda came in and stood on top of them.  This upset the kids and they asked him to get off.  Imelda stood on the drawings and did the 'oh gosh, oh dear me, look I am standing on something on the floor' routine and made a big show of getting his feet off the drawings.  This behaviour of his drives me insane.  In my house there is a floor which is visible.  My house is an average size, average house.  It is not the tidiest house in the world but it is by no means the untidiest either.  There is lots of floor to walk on.  In fact at an estimate I could have at least ten adults in my front room, all standing in the same room comfortably on the carpet.  Imelda would have struggled to have one person standing in his front room which is about three to four times the size of mine.

'I said 'Dad please could you get off - you're standing on the kids' drawings'.  

Imelda overdid the 'Oh my goodness I am standing on something' bit and made a big act of getting off.

He then said............................................ get this...............................................

wait for it ..................................................................

really - it's worth the wait..............................................................................

'Well if it's on the floor it's going to get trodden on isn't it?'

Now I am not asking to be knighted for not shooting him but he does try my patience (of which I agree I have very little where he is concerned).

Meanwhile on planet earth my life continues Imelda free for the time being.  I have not been to the mountain for a few weeks as I want to see how he gets on himself.  Will he really clear anything?  Will he get rid of the armchair which was put on its side in the living room as it would not fit upright?  Will he clear the kitchen to the extent he can fit a bread roll on the worktop?  Will he sort out his hundreds of odd shoes?  Will he manage to move the tower of eleven boxes from the door in front of the cupboard under the stairs in order that he may find my winter coat which is now vintage and which I have been asking for ever since I moved out in 1994.  Will he sort through the three black bags of bits which have been sitting on the sofa for weeks?

I doubt it!  I am going to give him a month then I will perhaps sneak in and remove a few bits here and there.  There are so many things which are rubbish and taking up space.  There is an old bathroom plastic chair/pouffe/storage stool from my grandad's flat.  It is in Imelda's bedroom. My grandad died in about 1988 and it has not been used since then.  The thing is empty, the plastic  is split and it has some nasty blue polyester fur on the top, thick with dust and age.  It takes up space.

What will happen is this: I will probably 'find' it. I will then have to do the 'Oh my goodness that is just what I/a friend in a new house have/has been looking for. That would go perfectly in my/his/her bathroom.' routine.  Imelda will do the 'Well if you really like it I suppose I could let you have it' act, for which I shall have to feign extreme gratitude.

I shall then gratefully take the thing to my car and drive off homewards with a cheery wave of thanks out the car window for extra effect, depositing the vile item at the council recycling centre en route.

This is a well worn routine.  Imelda thinks/acts as if he is doing me a favour by letting me have his most loved and well used possession.  I feign gratitude (or he would not let it go). I then 'donate' it to the tip and everyone is happy.

Today I nipped to Imelda's house just to get a nice small branch from his garden.  I wanted something for my pet snake to play on.  Imelda has a huge garden and lots and lots of wood.  I explained what I was after and set off to find it.  Imelda was watching me like a hawk.  I found the piece I needed and went to go home.  The piece was about a foot long with some nice climbing bits shooting off from it.  Imelda stood in my path.

'What is that for?' as if it were his best and only piece of wood.
'It is for Trouser to climb on dad!'
'Oh! Well yes, I suppose you can take that one!'.

I am not exactly sure what that was about.  As I have said before he has enough wood to heat the Albert Hall for the next Millennium and probably half of the one after that and yet he gets upset if his daughter comes round to take one small piece of felled tree branch.

Still at least Trouser is happy.  He is sitting in his new tree house watching me type the blog.

Bless him!

:)