Jessica's Friends.

Hello, Hello, it is the end of the world once again. Nothing new has happened, I thought I would just remind you all we've been in crisis mode for months and we should definitely still be in crisis mode. 

I painted my walls this week. The whole downstairs is painted this ghastly cream colour. So I'm painting one and a bit walls because I can't be arsed to move the furniture I would need to paint it properly. I regret the white violet I brought. Its a much brighter pink than it looked on the label. It's still better than the cream and I can't take it back. d

Cream is a-okay colour to paint the walls, this cream just looks like its went off. 

I finished watching season 6 of Murder, She Wrote but I'm behind on everything. So I'll be off now. Next week post will told by Jessica Fletcher about some randoms she apparently friends with.

Neighbours are Inconvenient

 Apparently, my neighbours to impress themselves as existing the last week.

Last Saturday, I took my parents lawnmower to cut my grass, mine had broken and was not picking the grass up last week so I hadn't cut but not very well, to find my neighbour had cut the hedge in my garden. You know in theory that's a nice thing to do but they had filled my bin with tree branches. I'm not sure how all of it could have been from my side of the hedge. I don't know who owns the hedge, but I wouldn't have cut it till we were out of August. It didn't need desperately done, especially on such a hot day. So now instead of having tons of room to dump the grass in the bin, which is something that did need done. I ideally should have done it sooner but I just didn't have a free day to do it.  I have to squash it down and grass got everywhere when I was emptying the lawnmower bag. Also, it was too heavy to move up my garden. It really inconsiderate to fill someone else bin. 

I did curse arsehole out loud when I realise so I guess that summoned my neighbour while I was cutting this grass on Saturday. In hindsight,  I should have cut the grass on Sunday because it was cooler and still dry. I also probably should have said something to my neighbour instead of staring at them. I just didn't what he wanted me to say at that moment. I was annoyed at them filling my bin without saying anything to me. I know I don't spend every day at my house, but that's because my family is a disaster. In an ideal world, I wouldn't have had to move out but there's no room for me here. 

Also I still put my bin out. It's really fucking presumptive that a person who lives alone wouldn't have any rubbish in their house. Of course, I don't have any council bin bags. Lucky, I didn't have a stack of rubbish in my house or a project I was doing. I guess I should have just said thanks for cutting the hedge, but I had plans for that bin. I know I don't put it every week (mostly because I'm forgetting as hell) but it's still really inconsiderate of you to do that. But I also had been putting my bin out recently. 

I think you should ask your neighbours before you do that. Like I said I had cut my glass last week, badly, but that still proved I lived there. I don't really like when my neighbours do me favours. Like bring my bin in before I even have a chance to go out and get it. I think one must sit there and pounces as soon as they come. 

Now for the story of this week. So this my parents' neighbour but as I care for my parents I do stuff while I'm there. So my parents and sibling all went to the hospital so I was there watching my sister's dog because makes no sense for her to be left alone when I'm home and the dogs can go in the garden. I'm having a bad day. I filmed for an hour for one video and got nothing else filmed. I had already been interrupted during the second video by my parents coming home. So after putting everything away, I go to film again. But only a few seconds in I see the neighbour at the door. I can't ignore her, she probably heard me. 

This is 6pm, it's Dinner time/both my disabled parents are sleep. She comes to the door, the one day we're not all in the garden. We could have this conversation over a fence. 

She came to the door to complain about the dogs barking at them when they take their dogs into the field. She claimed we don't call them back went they bark at them which a lie. We call them, the only time I don't is when I'm at the toilet and they ignoring my shouting. They know barking is wrong, they still are chancers sometimes. They will stop if I go out there. 

She said they jump at the fences. They don't jump at the fences, they stand up on the fences because they are nosey. If they were kids, sure I would tell them to stop spying on the neighbours. But they are dogs, they have no concept of boundaries. The only one who jumps on the fence is Leia and she never goes outside by herself. She gets given into trouble when she does that. They can't get over the fence, so they nothing to actually complain about. 

So she keeps saying its' really annoying when her kid is trying to work their horse. What horse, the horse that is always in the field, or the ponies they must be too big for now. 

The thing that made me mad, is that she said we should give them treats after they do this behaviour. So I shut the door in her face, after saying that I'm not going to train my dogs to be bad. I also then shout at the window that her dogs bark constantly. 

Here's the thing, they keep their dogs in kennels and those dogs bark all the time. Actually the next day, they bark all day. I guess they weren't home. The horse also bangs on the gate all the time. 

Okay, so this neighbour infamously stole a horse and did not care for this horse properly. It doesn't really matter if that's true but I know that they left horse out all the time by itself. Only ever play attention to it once it the owner tried to get it back.  

Do my dogs bark at her dogs, sometimes yes. My dogs did bark for five minutes, ignoring me shouting them from inside so I went outside and they came in when they saw me, so this neighbour came to the door ten, twenty minutes after they had been called inside. My dogs were inside, staring at her from the window. Not barking. 

Also, this same neighbour came to the door after my mother had made the fence taller, to complain about the dog jumping into her field. Bitch, why are you complaining when the problem has been solved? Yes, this is bad behaviour and I don't want my dog giving me a heart attack by standing on the gate between the field and our garden. It's dangerous for all the animals involved when she decides to visit the sheep. 

My dogs aren't perfect, but I've tried them to not bark back at other dogs. If wanted complete control of your environment then you move to the middle of nowhere. Lots of empty houses that no one wants if you have land money. You have neighbours, they will be noises. I have a dog who talks by barking. He doesn't play growl, he very odd squeaky thing. 

Also apparently, she a nurse and she came to the door without a face mask. WTF. Someone has it locally too. People aren't taking this serious enough, but that's a rant for another day. 

Frankly, the only one I feel is justified in complaining is the postman. I don't know why Leia hates them so much but she does. Violently so. Not even the same one, different people. Same reaction. Even complained to other strangers, they are the ones who upset her the most. In an ideal world, I would lock her out the livingroom during this time of the day. 

Also, my prepayment metre that tried to get taken out when I moved in is broken, but they won't fix unless I run out of power when seems like a dangerous game. I don't have any medical equipment so that is fine, but I am listed as Disabled so that definitely could be dangerous. Hopefully, they would fix if that was the case. Was working on a short story that I thought I had ending for but turns out I just never finished writing it and therefore did not post anything last Saturday. Behind on reviews as always and I haven't edited this week so it all been great. 

I'm gonna go now, I have to find my field's neighbours door so I can complain about the chickens coming into the garden when we first moved in. Very important. 

New, same Crap.

Blogger has changed and I don't like it. I meant its basically been the same in the ten years I've been using it but its an outrage. Not really because who has the energy to have emotions over a website. Maybe they've changed it for a reason. We see.

This week hasn't gone to plan. I'm currently writing in my parent's hallway because I've been banished from the living room as my mother paints the ceiling. I would help paint the ceiling but my mother has made it clear that she doesn't want my help painting. But she does want my help lifting things which I am useless at. 

All my strength is my legs and I have no spatial awareness. I walk into walls and I now I do it while carrying a sofa. Everyone in my immediate family is disabled, meaning that we all wiped out for days doing this sort of thing. I wanted to film this week, but all the spoons are gone.

I started going back to my house. Still don't have food in it, other a chest of frozen food which is does contain what I need for every meal. I guess I should just buy a loaf and milk and stay there. Its just can't be arsed doing that right now and I have to come back to my parents to do things for them.

Maybe once the livingroom is finally sorted, I can finally sort my livingroom. Its a livable space but does need proper organising so I can use the table that's in the corner rather its still being covered in boxes and books. 

There's not much to say right now, other than I'm tired and I have feelings. The world continues to burn slowly.

Short Story: Half Finished

I wrote something but I am too tired to finish. Maybe there's something worth finishing.


She woke to something heavy, wet on her chest. She wasn't conscious enough to figure out what it was. It rubbed itself against her duvet, up and down, before setting against her chest. She could feel something cold against her throat, which would have been discerning if also she had just gained enough consciousness to realise it was her wolf of a dog using her duvet as a towel. Her brain still confuse on how he had managed to get out.

She had fallen asleep to the backdoor wide open into her secure garden before but that night she had definitely locked due to the rain. She didn't want to wake to a flooded kitchen.

He had stop moving, she opened her eyes. He started to wag his tail, quite happy with his work. He didn't care that it was the middle of the night and he had brought his mother a mystery to solve. She shoved him off, sitting up in bed. She could have just shut the door and the wind had blown it open. She could hear the wind battering against the old walls. It wasn't the studiest of doors. She need to get up and lock it.

She got out of bed, full awake thanks to her wet monster. He was a big dog, solid and heavy. He was a squeaky thing when he barked though and the only protection he was brought was someone thinking his size made him a threat. No, he was a giant puppy. Not even a year old yet and since she got him she couldn't leave him without him crying as though he was being abandoned. He had come with attachment issues straight from the farmer she had brought him from. She wasn't sure what he would do if anyone actually did anything to her, but he just squeaked and wagged his tail at strangers.

She could still hear his tail, his whole body seemed to move as he whacked that thing, like he was about to lift off. It was solid and it hurt when it hit against your legs or face. He jumped off the bed with a thud. Shaking his way across the floor to the open bedroom door. She followed him. The carpet was wet under bare feet. Bram had dried himself on the way up to her. She would turn the heating on in an attempt to dry it.

It was summer and still warm enough to get away without heating most nights. With this rain, it was likely to cool down again. She walked slowly down the stairs, everyone else doors were shut. Safe for now from the domestic wolf that lived in her house. He was strong enough to barrel down the doors open. He already at the bottom of the stairs waiting for her. As soon as she got into the kitchen she felt the water on the titles, more than from a dog drying himself.

A thin level of water covered the whole floor. Maybe it was a burst pipe and Bram had attacked it like it was a hose. She could feel the wind coming from the door, it felt open. Bram ran towards it and she followed him. The door was fully open, the rain blowing right into the house. It must have been open for hours for the level of water.

She tapped her leg twice and Bram runs back to her. Greeting her again by jumping up her, dirting her grey pajamas top. She sighed and pushed him down, and he walks back into the house. Tail going. This had been a great adventure for a creature that only made messes and never cleans them. She shut the door, making sure to lock it this time. The winds whispered through the door.

This was when she finally went to turn the light on. She wasn't sure where the mop was lurking. The light didn't turn on. Of course, she had been woken, in the middle of the night by a soaking wet dog, during a power cut. She couldn't be bothered to find the mop, instead grabbing a dog towel next to the door and throwing it on the floor. She got on her knees and began to mop up the water. The bath towel immediately saturated. Impossible heavy, she dragged it to the sink. She tried rinsing it out, but gave up.

She still too tired for this. Bram sat himself on her feet, the constant trip harassed. She was tempted to grab another towel and go back to bed. Shut them both in her room, dry the drown rat and deny knowing anything about how the kitchen had turned into a swimming pool. She was surprised that so much water had gotten into the house for so long without anyone noticing.

She bent down to feel her still, very wet mutt. He was half border collie and something else. The farmer had been missed by not knowing what had bred with his sheepdog. If she didn't know better, she would have thought he was part wolf. He was white and grey like one, but he had gotten his colouring off his mum. His eyes were a yellow colour that must have came from his father. They had killed off all the wolves.

She got back up and deciding that fallout wouldn't be worth it the sleep. They were candles in the bathroom and matches above the fireplace. Walking back in the hall, the carpet felt soaded now. Maybe there was a pipe burst. Bram couldn't have gotten so much water into the carpet.

She went for matches first. The floor seemed to just keep getting wetter. The matches were shockingly where they should be for once.

She could see Bram's outline, but she had felt the brush of fur against bare legs. A cat, a giant dog-sized cat had scaled the fence.