Happy birthday Celia! I hope it was a good day.
We saw each other this morning when Celia came to collect her birthday presents. One of them she knew about: a piece of wood from our cherry tree which has sprouted fungi, one of her passions. The others were a surprise. No sports car this year, instead a bird feeder and a gadget for opening cans, bottles, jars.
We also saw each other this evening in her garden. We were a group of five with nibbles and three bottles of fizz. It was great. The crows, magpies and wrens entertained us, the chat was good, the company, it goes without saying, was excellent.
I spent much of the day drafting a reply to some aggressive emails from my bossy neighbour, but by the end of the day I think I probably shan’t send it. Why engage? She is writing nonsense and writing it in her usual illiterate, incoherent style. I have already made my mind up to sell up and move, my energies are required for other things.
That feels a lot better than engaging in a series of messages with someone who loves conflict and confrontation. I really believe she is not well. She’s a bully with an established track record someone who enjoys asserting power without responsibility, probably a narcissist, a sad apology of a human being. The less I have to do with her the better. I expect when I let her know I’m selling she’ll see it as a success, that she has pushed me out. That’s not the story, though her toxicity has had some influence, I am looking forward to being somwhere else, not simply escaping from where I am.
You can probably tell that I am still working this out, still prodding my feelings and thoughts to gauge my emotional temperature. So the For Sale sign may not appear for a while, but I am now confident that come it will.
Stay safe. Keep well. Home is where the heart is.