Given that it has been around four months since my last confession, sorry post, I thought I had better do something about it. So here is a quick resume of what has been going on in the wonderful world of SFN Towers.
I spent January and February hobbling to and from work on crutches. A kind friend lent me a wheelchair which made going to the supermarket possible. Or should that be 'eventful' as Mr H thought it was great fun and behaved accordingly. He pushed me everywhere as fast as possible and did wheelies in the car-park; his favourite trick was to take a run up at the automatic doors, stopping only in the nick of time when they failed to keep pace with his speed. We regularly hit around 30km per hour in the veg aisle, slowing down only when we got to steak and red wine. I now know why small children often wail when in their pushchairs. It's because they are bloody terrified.
I survived all that, finished the teaching contract, got the plaster off and enjoyed a couple of weeks part time before the next contract started. I stopped enjoying my 'leisure' time when I discovered that the company I have been working for had gone into administration. At the moment, I have no idea when or even if, I will get paid.
Mr H spent March attacking the house. Floors and walls have been removed, openings made and windows installed. Sadly there is no likelihood of the floor going back in in the foreseeable future as floors cost money and until I get the four grand (and counting) that I am currently owed, that, my friend is that. The dream bedroom will remain a dream.....for the time being at least. Still, I do have a 'cathedral' style interior living space.
My one success has been dog training. I dealt with the naughty yapping puppy by buying one of those electronic collars that zap the dog when it yaps. Being tight, I bought a dodgy 'own brand' type job from Ebay. It basically electrocuted the shit out of her for 24 hours until we realised what was going on. On the upside, it cured her of her favourite pastime, barking at the horses back legs and having seen how effective it is, the kids are suitably chastened. After all, I'm the mother that tied Daisy to a tree with a lunge line when she was a toddler and had Max on an extending dog lead at the beach, so it's not beyond the realms of possibility that I'd resort to electrical behaviour control. They do it in the States after all and besides, anyone who objects, clearly has not shared a house with gobby teenagers.