An odd day…

It’s been an odd day. I rose early, got the coffee on and watered my window box. I feel nervous going out of my gates because my neighbour verbally abused me in public with witnesses.

I have done nothing. I already had written to them after the wife verbally abused when Andrew was with me.

No one deserves this. And it’s so obvious that QL have been looking through my blog – the snoops that they are. Vile people.

I have had to report it to the police. I needed an ambulance after each occasion.

The Moores kept a parcel for me for a whole week. Apparently it isn’t an offence. The stupid man tried to lie about it, but I had emails to prove when it was delivered. Stupid people dig deep holes.

I had intended to make frittata earlier but my meds had been taken so I am not my best after that. Now, all I want is to sleep.


A fairly good day…

Today I planted some some plants that had arrived at the end of last week. I did get them outside in the rain on Sunday evening. They weren’t particularly thirsty but every drop helps.

This is for the raised bed I made. I am beautifying the other side of my garden. Pete has come up with plans that will save me having to pay to go to the dump.

I gave some neighbours a bowl of my tomatoes. I hope they enjoy them as much as I do. It’s such a good feeling to give home grown food away. I found out at the weekend that a community garden has been started nearby. I will pop along some time.

I have been editing. It is so tiring. I got some eye drops for tired eyes. I should wear my glasses more often.

I received my copy of Locked Write Down today. It’s always a rewarding feeling. I only know one of the other poets included in it. His poem is very fine.

My hip has played up a few times today. Last night when I went to bed I could feel the nerves right down to my ankle. It’s very odd. I wonder what the x-ray will show.

Boris Johnson has arranged for cycling to be prescribed on the NHS. This is good in principle, but one must cycle fast enough to raise one’s heartbeat in order to get fit or fitter. Just ambling to work to to the shops is not enough. One would need to take a change of clothes to work to make it work. I know people who do this. Walking is the same principle, as with any exercise.

And he goes on about a second spike of Covid-19 but we’re still in the first wave. Oh dear. Not listening to the science.


Still suffering and the rudeness!!!

Yesterday evening I was coming home from looking for my friend, and yet again my neighbours had a visitor’s car in our shared access. I was cross. I”ve put up with a lot and smiled.

I went in to ask if it could be moved as they don’t/can’t ask for my consent.In lockdown that car was there all day one day. Which was illegal.

And it turns out that last night there were two visitors in the house which is also illegal.

So a door was slammed in face. Rude. The illegal guest came out and started bossing me around in a thick foreign accent. Rude.

I come into my garden and I hear them talking about me. A language I don’t speak, but obvious. Rude.

They have repeatedly turned up their TV so loud that I cannot think. I suppose they think that having it louder makes it easier to understand. Stupid.

Their dog has yapped maddengly.

What is it about that house? Oh well yes, they were written to by a very malicious former neighbour but she threw stuff over my fence with no provacation.

The only one that was never rude to me was Anya, a lady from Slovenia. And her departure is blamed on me to with a lie.

The owner gave me problems too, a very rude man. A neighbour across the road told me he has mental health problems or learning difficulties.

I had to call the community police a few times when he was intransigently threatening. I was terrified him.

This morning I awoke with pain from ankle to hip. I somehow got myself out to water my garden and watched the beauty of water sinking into the soil.

It was 5am. I used watering cans that I had filled yesterday.

I called for a doctor at 8.30 am. I slept from just before 10am until 1.30pm.

I am waiting for a call back from X-ray for an appointment. I kept myself safe since before lockdown as it was too late. I will not compromise myself now.

I think I will go and sit and paint my gates.

I know some lovely people. Why do I get the horrid ones next to me?


Time passes…

My depression is flattening out. I just looked out my window and the sun is making the chain ferry luminous in the late sun. The harbour is so blue.

So I’m doing a bit better. My friends and I are passing silly videos and memes on WhatsApp which brings laughter into the day.

I came across a flat with a wrap around terrace. But the kitchen is in the living room and I really dislike that. Then I found a ground floor flat what is in a converted church. I love it. It’s in Penzance, so very impractical.

I don’t want to move but I’d love to be closer to my cousin, who’s in Sunderland, very far from Cornwall.

Yesterday, I had the pleasure of cutting my daughter’s hair. It seems like ages since I did that. I did it all her life, stating at age 31/2.

The clouds are pink now, turning coral. And fading into grey/blue.

I continue to write articles. I sleep later though.

My friend down the road came for distance cup of tea. My cleaner came. The police could stop him and fine him. But I said he should them to phone me.

I’m grateful that people have reached out to me while the depression was bad. I’m so glad I’m not an alcoholic. Just think, drinking until you’re numb, with with no purpose in life, living a lie like Mike Ebsworth.

So jubilant the neighbours are gone. I celebrate each day.


I am now depressed and somewhat angry…

My fatigue and muscle ache after the tests at the hospital have morphed into a depression. The longer I felt unable to go out, the more I became afraid to go out. I missed a poetry event which is a really bad sign. I haven’t got dressed for two weeks.

My wrote to the council to ask what behaviour of mine has caused my neighbours to blame me for their move.

I am told I have reported their everyday business to agencies and named them in my blog.

Firstly, I have not reported their everyday business to anyone and secondly I do not give my address in my blog or even the town where I live.

If their name appears anywhere, no one can identify them and further no one is interested in them.

I am angry because ‘reporting their everyday business to agencies’ is libel. I am tired of libel against me,

Because I’m an at risk group with Corvid19, I am beginning to feel isolated and lonely. I do like my own company but there is a limit before isolation takes hold.

My cleaner came today. He works so hard and is loyal. I asked him to plant my plants and tomorrow I will water with liquid seaweed.

Today has been our warmest day so far. I turned my timed heating off. It will stay off unless we get another cold spell.

The pain in my hip has gone again, thanks to meditation. I see my meditation on pain as prayer.

I have forgotten to mention that the pain I used to get in my shoulder and arm have gone.


Some great news and my garden…

I went to get some shopping earlier and as I came out of my gates I saw that my neighbour’s gate next to mine is gone. Yes, gone!!!!

The gate is gone!!!!!!!!

I laughed out loud. I felt such relief. I also confess to some pleasure that the miserable spirit that was so determined to get his way, has had his nose punched, so to speak.

I did write to someone in authority yesterday. I don’t know if that did it or if others who use the car park for the sheltered housing had complained. All I know is that my relief is great.

So I celebrated by putting two water snails in my tiny pond, and two water plants. I feel sorry for the snails as they have such cold water. I need to adjust a few things. I have some new plants to plant too.

My fig tree has been in bud since October, so I’m looking forward to see what this year brings. One tiny fig appeared last autumn too. I pinched it off so that no energy gets diverted from leaves and growth.

Oh, I’m so happy about the gate. They won’t be renting space in my head again.

Just a couple of weeks now and the sun will be in my back garden. I can’t wait.


My neighbours, Mike, and Quay Living…

I have decided that these people cannot rent space in my head anymore.

My neighbours’ windchimes are making a din and quite frankly I can’t bear it, I will be buying headphones. I can’t let myself become ill because of them. I don’t like to do this because I love birdsong, although they ended that. I also love the sound of wind and rain.

Now the man nextdoor has started hammering nails above and below the handle of the drop down bolt of the rear gate that they keep open. This breaches their tenancy rules. I’ve had to pull them out once, but they were put right back. Such immaturity is beyond me.

Quay Living, the letting agent, don’t care. All they want is their money. They couldn’t care less that the wider neighbourhood has been upset by their tenants.

Mike has been hard to get out of my head. It’s not my fault he thinks so little of himself that he decided I only wanted him to be my ‘cleaner, cook and nurse’. It’s not surprising though as when he lived next door he was treated pretty much like a dog. Not allowed out, not able to keep promises he made to me about making amends for waking me at 3am and manhandling me.

He broke my laptop, and is so cowardly that he changed his phone number. He must have much lower self-esteem than I ever realised, but it’s not surprising considering the relationship. She referred to him as a complete idiot, and the money I owed didn’ ‘matter, it’s Mike’s money anyway’. And she moved him a 40 minute walk from his work, telling him they need to save money, when there are rentals under £850 much nearer. It was to control him and keep him away from me. But it didn’t work. He came to see me, and that was what tipped me into love.

But it’s useless loving someone who is so messed up that they stay in a toxic relationship.


In such pain…

Yesterday evening, two friends came to my home to have dinner with me. Mathew is the friend that picked me up when my trolley tipped up in November. Chrisii and he are having a baby which is due on the second of March.

I had bought some gifts the baby, some soft toys and a thermometer, and light blankets/shawls. She intends to breastfeed, so they will be good for discretion when needed. I didn’t really bother with one, but never actually fed my daughter in public, the most being a small party.

I got the pleasure of feeling the babies heartbeat. It was wonderful. I haven’t felt an unborn baby for so long.

I slept very soundly last night, but woke before six a.m. and knew that was it. Yesterday, a nerve in my thigh bit me three times. Today, it began to hurt at around lunch time, and it’s constancy has worn me to the edge of tears. I have eaten a hot meal and feel a little stronger.

I was rather fazed a short while ago. My phone was going. Message alerts from facebook, and timing the oven.

I came here for peace. For processing some thoughts.

Earlier, I was looking at the harbour and saw a grey horse cantering across it with a rider. It was a moment before I realised this was impossible. Anyhow, it’s a poem in the making.

A friend helped me with the garden yesterday. My neighbours had not only hooked their gates open, but had hammered very long nails under the handle off the bolt as well as above. To prevent me from having access to my garden with a vehicle, or rather, my friend’s van. We twisted the nail upright and closed their gate to open mine.

At times I tremble at what they put me through. But I will not give in to ill-mannered bullies. I will assert myself, as I am not in the wrong.

Thank you for some kind comments in the last week. They mean so much to me. Thank you so much.


Feeling blah…

Sometimes the best bit of posting on my blog is choosing the meme. Sometimes it’s what I want to write about. Sometimes I realise that a lot of people are not interested in growth on their journey through life, not interested in learning or becoming a better person. I have to accept that some people are hedonist, do not contribute to their community, and aren’t even bothered about recycling, the environment, or the effect they have on their neighbours,

I haven’t had a great day. I have felt off colour and slightly feverish. A friend sent a text to cancel our meet up. I asked why, and her reply was that she couldn’t be bothered to go out. I don’t think it occurred to her that this might affect the way I feel. Sometimes, I wonder why we are friends.

I had a telephone appointment booked with my doctor’s surgery. I need more antibiotics in the house after my chest infection. A receptionist had put a note about a painkiller, so the conversation was ended before I remembered the antibiotics… I’m getting used to forgetting the purpose of phone calls. It hasn’t helped my feeling of blah though. I will need to phone back in the morning. If I remember.

I had wanted to go and hear a gig but it doesn’t start until 9.30pm and I think I will be tucked up in bed, putting today behind me.

But I did manage to remind someone that their health is more important than their income.

My day also was vexed by an email from the council asking me to exert my influence over my friends as the letting agent for nextdoor has apparently had some emails about the refusal of my neighbours to move the wind chimes. I replied that I have asked for no retaliation but will not tolerate complaints via the council from an agency that has never censured their tenants for ant-social behaviour and care only about money. That the occupants are knowingly causing me pain so no passing of complaints to me.

I am only a human being. I have forgiven a lot of people a lot of things. But I will not be fed the complaints of the instigator.

Sorry to sound so moany. I have days like this.


The Press…

Last week I was contacted by The Metro, a London newspaper who had seen my petition about consulting neighbours before installing noise making things that cause disturbance. They wanted my story, why this had happened and so on.

I told them how the letting agency for my neighbours, Quay Living, had been told a pack of lies about me by a former neighbour and how this would never have happened if I had not dropped my complaint to the police about being sexually assaulted. I told them how my neurological disease is affected by high pitched sounds.

No decent person doesn’t realise that telling lies about someone will affect their future. Only a psychotic person who thinks only of themselves does not think about it. The lies told about me have changed my new neighbours attitude toward me and they are being incredibly cruel. Who knowingly inflicts agony on someone??

I got told I have too much ‘stuff’ by Michael Ebsworth. Well, he’s had about 12 addresses the last 25 years while I have been bringing up a daughter on my own. Daughters like ‘stuff’ and they give their mothers ‘stuff’ and it’s hard to let go of that stuff.

I am a prisoner in my bedroom. I eat here, I watch TV here, I write, Read and sleep here. All because of the wind chimes. I roll around in agony here. No one would believe how I’m forced to live because of my neighbours, because they were told lies.


My neighbours…

My current neighbours are the worst I’ve ever had, they moved in this March and they have already upset the sheltered housing community that is behind my garden.

They cut back all the bird cover and now no birds come into my garden. My bird feeders are still full after two weeks – they used to be empty after a few hours. I’m heartbroken. I have strived to make my garden a haven for birds and bees, butterflies, and other insects.

They also hung windchimes, which are so high pitched that they cause my damaged nervous system agony. I have to live in my bedroom, as that’s the only place I normally don’t hear them. I had headache for two weeks, my neck hurts with nerve pain. My arms and legs twitch with nerve pain. I take painkillers every day, even though they don’t work. When I go out my back door, I cry out in pain. I can’t enjoy my home or garden.

Quay Living, their letting agent, couldn’t care less. Or my neighbours, They have been written to by the council and refuse to move them. I don’t understand such an attitude at all. I once hung bamboo windchimes but where there were no windows, so that my neighbours weren’t affected. My choices shouldn’t affect others.

What are your neighbours like?



So I just got rid of a neighbour from hell, who threw things over my fence, gave my mobile number to someone who doesn’t know me, subscribed me to porn sites and telephone companies, tried to change my utilities, used my debit card fraudulently, and slandered me to Quay Living.

Mike Ebsworth (deliberate use) has ignored my texts to tell Quay Living they were lied to. So I will sue them both for slander and much more if he doesn’t contact them by tomorrow. No one knows which Mr Ebsworth I’m referring to because I don’t give my location here.

He has still not visited me after a ‘minor’ surgical procedure which was as much his responsibility as mine. And I’ve had a chest infection since complete with 999 ambulance to get my airways opened. He says he is an emotional coward. He took to phoning, after one visit, and then started video calls, but when I realised the purpose of this, I was revolted and stopped them. I had wanted him to be a happy memory, but he will always be a part of my life and grief now. He won’t even visit to offer condolences.

I’m going back even more to gratitude. Gratitude for this weather, for my friends, and my daughter. For my garden, for the three men who rescued me after I was the victim of hate crime. Grateful, that I am still well despite my diagnosis which had made me think I would have died by now. I am far more motivated than this time last year.

As soon as my ex husband went back to live at his flat, I came to life, a major depression left me. But then my sister Pamela died so suddenly of sepsis, my devoted dog a week later and a vicar interfered so maliciously. Then my Auntie died and then Mike Ebsworth intruded into my life as much as it is possible to turn someone’s life upside down.

He said to me that I stopped ‘pussyfooting’ around. I never decided that so he just refuses to take responsibility for his life. He doesn’t seem to realise that while he stays silent about Ms W’s crimes, he is party to them an accessory after the fact. He told me doesn’t like the truth in writing. He told me last November he was going to give up beer because he was so ill after drink beer and wine. He was so unwell, it frightened me. He’s still drinking beer.

The moon is bright tonight, a waxing gibbous moon, it shines on him and me. He also said in November that life would be about others, not just him. But it’s all about him and obeying MS W. She doesn’t care about his drinking, his depression, his health. Has she noticed that he is gaining weight around his jowls and neck, like an alcoholic? How can any man put up with the way she speaks about him? And has she so little self-respect that she didn’t kick him out?

Even after years as a psychologist, I’m still amazed by people. I tend to expect the best of people, that most people will do the right thing. I tend to attract those who don’t…