As hokey and even unbelievable as it sounds not five minutes after talking to my mom last night my wife's mom called just to tell her that she loved her. No other reason, just that. That sure as hell isn't what my mom told me.
Working today to get ready for Tuesday when we leave for our vacation. Can't wait!
Saturday, July 09, 2005
Friday, July 08, 2005
Can't win for loosing!
Five minutes after getting back from the lake I decided I'd better call her and leave the decision about the renters to her. This seemed to rile her and her answer was to question why I was even asking her. She got rankled even more when I said it was because it was her cottage. She replied that she didn't care what I did with the place, then gave me shit for not calling her when the water line was repaired. Bitch! My explanation of the fact that I was very busy this past week and could not go on Tuesday as I thought I would met a cynical "unhuh".
The rest of the conversation was her giving me shit for not calling in the past what...four maybe five days. Again my explanation of the fact that I had a very busy stressful week only seemed to up her venom, to the point where she more or less hung up on me. I just can't seem to do it right no matter what so why I even bother is beyond me. Evil bitch! Tuesday can't come soon enough!
The rest of the conversation was her giving me shit for not calling in the past what...four maybe five days. Again my explanation of the fact that I had a very busy stressful week only seemed to up her venom, to the point where she more or less hung up on me. I just can't seem to do it right no matter what so why I even bother is beyond me. Evil bitch! Tuesday can't come soon enough!
Another day...
It's finally Friday! My wife's last day of work before holidays. We are leaving Tuesday for our camping trip and the weather is looking quite nice for the week. The biggest drag is that I have to go to the lake today and sess things out. That after a nasty thunder storm last night that dumped on us for a couple of hours. And I mean dumped! I'm not to worried about the cottage. These are things I can't control and it will be what it is. I do hope for the renters sake that I can get them in.
I decided to call my uncle yesterday because I saw that he had called here. He was all worried because I sent him one of my previous posts letting him know why I had given up on the cottage. He owns the one right beside ours and lives in the fond memories of days gone by. He hasn't spent enough time out there to see how things have deteriorated, and I don't mean buildings. Those are always well maintained; must keep up with the neighbours and it's all about appearances. He of course was asking me not to be rash and jump to final conclusions about giving up on the cottage. I told him that I hadn't and pointed out that this has been building for twenty some odd years. She used the place against my dad forever and is now doing the same to me. That she is not going to change and unless she gives it up free and clear, signed on the dotted line then I want nothing further to do with it. I did promise him that I wasn't going to do anything rash and that I wasn't going to tell her to sell it right this minute but that something must change or I'm out. So for now anyway, I am taking a wait and see attitude.
After talking further with my wife who waxes back and forth on this issue I am reminded that this is not the first time she has cast us as the reason she does not want to be there. Worse than that is that she does it in such a passive aggressive manner that it sickens me. She did not say what she said to Marilyn spitefully, but instead laid it out like poor us. We have to put with her being in the way, we need the space, etc. Same shit different pile as far as I am concerned. It's still all cast in such a way as to garner her maximum sympathy from her friends, while at the same time making us seem like uncaring brutes. Same tune different song every fucking year. Well I'm sick of it.
Well off I go to the place that has now become so tenuous to me. Should be fun.
I decided to call my uncle yesterday because I saw that he had called here. He was all worried because I sent him one of my previous posts letting him know why I had given up on the cottage. He owns the one right beside ours and lives in the fond memories of days gone by. He hasn't spent enough time out there to see how things have deteriorated, and I don't mean buildings. Those are always well maintained; must keep up with the neighbours and it's all about appearances. He of course was asking me not to be rash and jump to final conclusions about giving up on the cottage. I told him that I hadn't and pointed out that this has been building for twenty some odd years. She used the place against my dad forever and is now doing the same to me. That she is not going to change and unless she gives it up free and clear, signed on the dotted line then I want nothing further to do with it. I did promise him that I wasn't going to do anything rash and that I wasn't going to tell her to sell it right this minute but that something must change or I'm out. So for now anyway, I am taking a wait and see attitude.
After talking further with my wife who waxes back and forth on this issue I am reminded that this is not the first time she has cast us as the reason she does not want to be there. Worse than that is that she does it in such a passive aggressive manner that it sickens me. She did not say what she said to Marilyn spitefully, but instead laid it out like poor us. We have to put with her being in the way, we need the space, etc. Same shit different pile as far as I am concerned. It's still all cast in such a way as to garner her maximum sympathy from her friends, while at the same time making us seem like uncaring brutes. Same tune different song every fucking year. Well I'm sick of it.
Well off I go to the place that has now become so tenuous to me. Should be fun.
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
This is why I give up on the cottage.
Last Saturday, after making her grand statement that this is her swan-song, that she has given up on the cottage and that she does not care about it anymore, that we will either take it over or she will sell it, she was overheard saying to her friend Marilyn how we have already taken over. How she feels out of place and under foot when we are there together and will not be spending too much time out there if we are there. How we spread out all over the place. How we do everything so it's our place now. How she has had to give up as a result of us. Of course her friend started saying how wrong that was. How she shouldn't let us do that to her. How it's her place and not ours and she should take control back from us. Fucking lying bitch! Now she's making us look bad so that her friend has sympathy for her. She really is a small insignificant fat little woman.
This is why I have given up on the cottage and essentially her. There is never going to be any clear and definite understanding with her. She knows the great lengths we go to to keep that place to her standards. She knows how we tip toe around her when we are there together. She knows damn well that we are very aware of who's cottage it is. Hell she never hesitates to tell us! She is very aware of how we keep our kids and their mess confined and very under control when she is around. She knows that when she is there we do what we can to cater her every fucking want and need. She knows that we are NOT even there during the week. She'll tell us not to worry about the kids messes etc. but we know way better than to believe her.
And then the bitch has the gall to cast us that way! Fuck you! Take the fucking cottage and shove it up your big gigantic ass. I can't handle this stress and rage any more. You are a fucking sick twisted bitch. You've ruined the cottage for me with your lies and half stories and venomous evil shit. Right now I feel that if I ever see you or that cottage again it will be too soon. You and your generation have destroyed that strip. It is devoid of happiness. It is devoid of life and brings nothing but bad feelings. Shame on you for treating your children and grandchildren this way. Shame on you for not having the respect for them or yourself to not puke your lies on to other people. Yet again I say to you "Fuck you!"
This is why I have given up on the cottage and essentially her. There is never going to be any clear and definite understanding with her. She knows the great lengths we go to to keep that place to her standards. She knows how we tip toe around her when we are there together. She knows damn well that we are very aware of who's cottage it is. Hell she never hesitates to tell us! She is very aware of how we keep our kids and their mess confined and very under control when she is around. She knows that when she is there we do what we can to cater her every fucking want and need. She knows that we are NOT even there during the week. She'll tell us not to worry about the kids messes etc. but we know way better than to believe her.
And then the bitch has the gall to cast us that way! Fuck you! Take the fucking cottage and shove it up your big gigantic ass. I can't handle this stress and rage any more. You are a fucking sick twisted bitch. You've ruined the cottage for me with your lies and half stories and venomous evil shit. Right now I feel that if I ever see you or that cottage again it will be too soon. You and your generation have destroyed that strip. It is devoid of happiness. It is devoid of life and brings nothing but bad feelings. Shame on you for treating your children and grandchildren this way. Shame on you for not having the respect for them or yourself to not puke your lies on to other people. Yet again I say to you "Fuck you!"
Monday, July 04, 2005
A funny way of showing it...
Ten o'clock in the morning and she calls. I figure I'll answer and get it over with. She proceeds to tell me how so sorry she was to watch us working so hard on the damn cottage. Blah, blah, blah. What a bunch of bullshit. She sure has a funny way of showing how sorry she was. If she's so damn sorry why does she have to make us so miserable? That's not at all helpful.
I told her about the hole that I find and my subsequent conversations with Sid about it. He never said a word to her and had spoken to her both yesterday afternoon and evening. I don't know what, if any, kind of games are going on here but I don't care. I just want the fucking problem fixed! I refuse to speculate or engage in any kind of power plays, game playing or underhandedness I just want it fixed and will do it myself if I can't get the bloody plumber to do it. I just need to know one way or the other, fuck!
And in the meantime I have to listen to her crocodile tears about how she can't do it without me and how she's given up on the place and how we should just sell it. In the meantime she phoned to tell me she was thinking of getting a new bed and did I want the old one for at the lake; would it fit upstairs. I said it would not and that if she wanted it in her room it would fit there. She said she didn't want it and then suggested that she take the upstairs and my wife and I take her room. The thought alone of sleeping in that room creeps me out not to mention the absurdity of her suggesting that she climb those stairs. Then comes the standard "well I don't know how much I'll be there anyway." All this after telling me it should be sold! Fuck off already!
Have to go get ready for a meeting. Later.
I told her about the hole that I find and my subsequent conversations with Sid about it. He never said a word to her and had spoken to her both yesterday afternoon and evening. I don't know what, if any, kind of games are going on here but I don't care. I just want the fucking problem fixed! I refuse to speculate or engage in any kind of power plays, game playing or underhandedness I just want it fixed and will do it myself if I can't get the bloody plumber to do it. I just need to know one way or the other, fuck!
And in the meantime I have to listen to her crocodile tears about how she can't do it without me and how she's given up on the place and how we should just sell it. In the meantime she phoned to tell me she was thinking of getting a new bed and did I want the old one for at the lake; would it fit upstairs. I said it would not and that if she wanted it in her room it would fit there. She said she didn't want it and then suggested that she take the upstairs and my wife and I take her room. The thought alone of sleeping in that room creeps me out not to mention the absurdity of her suggesting that she climb those stairs. Then comes the standard "well I don't know how much I'll be there anyway." All this after telling me it should be sold! Fuck off already!
Have to go get ready for a meeting. Later.
Sunday, July 03, 2005
Mysterious find.
I forgot to talk about the mysterious find late in the day. Everything is slowly but surely drying up. The yard in general is looking much dryer. Everything except for in between ours and my Uncle Paul's place. There the water level has not seemed to change at all. At the same time I notice how clear the water is and when I touch it, how cold it is. This is not ground water, it's well water! Upon further inspection right at the SW corner of Paul's cement footing is a recently dug, perfectly square hole. I can see through the clear cold water the main water line that runs under ground from Paul's to our place. I use a small bucket to empty this hole and see quite clearly that there is a break in the line. So now what the hell do I do? It's 3:00 on a Sunday. I figure surely Sid has got to know something about this hole so I call him. He claims to know nothing of it and then when I tell him what I found he says that that's what he thought was the problem and he had phoned Jim's Plumbing to take a look at it and he never heard back from them. What the fuck? Why didn't he tell me any of this before? So he tells me to phone Jim's and get them to deal with it and that I might have trouble getting him. I try and of course he does not answer on Sunday. I leave a message for him to call either me or Sid. In the meantime I've had to shut the well off!
So now, not only do I have a problem with the septic tank, which was almost completely full of ground water by this morning, a lot of it probably came from this leak in the main line between the two cottages. Talk about being screwed up the ass with no grease! At this rate I'll never get the renters in for their holiday.
Soon I go on holidays and can leave this shit behind for a week. Can't wait!
So now, not only do I have a problem with the septic tank, which was almost completely full of ground water by this morning, a lot of it probably came from this leak in the main line between the two cottages. Talk about being screwed up the ass with no grease! At this rate I'll never get the renters in for their holiday.
Soon I go on holidays and can leave this shit behind for a week. Can't wait!
So you say...
After a disastrous weekend at the lake I am very glad to be home. It was disastrous on so many levels I don't even know where to begin. We got out there Friday evening after spending the afternoon celebrating Canada day with throngs of other people on Osbourne in the village. That was fun albeit tiring. We arrived to the nightmarish sight of water. Water every-fucking where. The cottage was pretty much surrounded by at least six inch deep water. The front yard was flooded like a lake and the back yard was saturated with pockets of standing water all over the place. This was the worst I've seen yet. Now a couple of weeks ago this and the fact that the pump had lost it's prime again may have been enough to send me packing. I handled this okay and we spent what was left of daylight cleaning debris, getting the pump working and settling in for a nice relaxing night. It was really the first time this season that I was able to relax a little bit out there. The debris came from a massive storm there Thursday night that was accompanied by strong Northeast winds that drove the lake and a whole lot of lumber etc. literally over the breakwater and into the yard. Stuff was floating around the yard. It looked like a shipwreck had happened in our front yard. It was very bizarre.
Saturday was going according to plan. I had gone and bought blocks to put at the door of the boathouse as was requested of me. I was busy laying them on a bed of sand when two things happened. 1) As expected but un-announced the bitch and her brother showed up. 2) As planned Gimli Septic showed up to pump the septic tank. As she waddled to the cottage from the driveway I was around the side laying the blocks. Then when the honey truck arrived I went to get the tank ready and she appeared at the door where I gave her a big happy hello but to no avail. She was miserable already so I went about my business working with the honey truck. We pumped as much as he could take and then he had to take off to dump and said he would be back to finish in a couple of hours. During this time I was repeatedly told how she was done with this place and how this was her swan-song and that she was committed to this summer and that she's either going to hand it over to us or sell it. At this point I don't believe a word she says so whenever she said that to me my only reply was to say "So you say."
She spewed this garbage to whomever would listen, including my wife, her friend Marilyn, and anyone unfortunate enough to come by or call including my wife's mother. The piece-de-resistance was when Dave and his friend Mark Potash came to see if the honey truck could do Mark's place and Dave, without thinking, thought he would be polite and introduce Mark to the bitch. As the introduction began she was smiling and had her hand out etc. That is until she clued into the fact that this was the same 'evil' Potash that rented our place a couple of years ago. Fuck you'd think they destroyed the place by the way she treated him. She hid her hand behind her back and was so un-fucking rude to him that I lost it and asked, in front of everyone why she was being so rude. Her answer was because she felt like it. Bitch, I hate you. I went up to Mark and apologized for her rude behaviour. She continued to be foul while I worked with the guy pumping us out and my wife cleaned up out front and in the boathouse. Then while I'm finishing the blocks by the boathouse door she starts telling me that what I was doing was not what she was thinking and that she envisioned more etc. I told her that she should tell me what she wants and I would do it. She spit back that she didn't care any more. I wanted so bad to ask her why the fuck she was there at all. Almost bit my tongue off not saying it. So yet again what I've done is not good enough. Then shortly after me having a huge shouting match with the owner of Gimli Septic over the price which has mysteriously jumped by 55.00 since I made the booking half a week ago, she points to the wood pile and says "that's the pile that I want cleaned up, it looks like a garbage dump." I said that yes I would clean it up but probably not this weekend with everything else that was going on. Again I got the "I don't care any more what you do with this place." So I asked her why then she was intent on telling what to do to which she replied that she wasn't and that all she said was that the pile looked like a garbage heap. Stupid bitch doesn't even know what's she's saying and when! I realize that as usual there is no point to this conversation and just go back to what I was doing. Bitch!
Then they leave and my wife and I decompress from her evil puke. We both have sort of come to the realization that this has become a bad place for us. It is neither relaxing nor enjoyable. The whole strip is full of a bunch of repressed, damaged families that have some how managed to pass that bullshit down to the next generation. Our neighbours have it with there family who actually own the cottage they stay in. It's like fun has been disallowed. We can do better than that even with our crappy camper. Some day we'll be in a position to buy our own place and it will all start with the portion of this place that comes to me. The stress of being yanked around by the bitch is becoming to much and to damaging for any of us. My kids are starting to clue in more and more and they definitely know when there is tension, rage and extreme sadness; all present during the past little while. If I had a way of asking my father to do one last thing it would be to come and take her away. Away from here, away from this earth, gone from my memory forever.
Saturday was going according to plan. I had gone and bought blocks to put at the door of the boathouse as was requested of me. I was busy laying them on a bed of sand when two things happened. 1) As expected but un-announced the bitch and her brother showed up. 2) As planned Gimli Septic showed up to pump the septic tank. As she waddled to the cottage from the driveway I was around the side laying the blocks. Then when the honey truck arrived I went to get the tank ready and she appeared at the door where I gave her a big happy hello but to no avail. She was miserable already so I went about my business working with the honey truck. We pumped as much as he could take and then he had to take off to dump and said he would be back to finish in a couple of hours. During this time I was repeatedly told how she was done with this place and how this was her swan-song and that she was committed to this summer and that she's either going to hand it over to us or sell it. At this point I don't believe a word she says so whenever she said that to me my only reply was to say "So you say."
She spewed this garbage to whomever would listen, including my wife, her friend Marilyn, and anyone unfortunate enough to come by or call including my wife's mother. The piece-de-resistance was when Dave and his friend Mark Potash came to see if the honey truck could do Mark's place and Dave, without thinking, thought he would be polite and introduce Mark to the bitch. As the introduction began she was smiling and had her hand out etc. That is until she clued into the fact that this was the same 'evil' Potash that rented our place a couple of years ago. Fuck you'd think they destroyed the place by the way she treated him. She hid her hand behind her back and was so un-fucking rude to him that I lost it and asked, in front of everyone why she was being so rude. Her answer was because she felt like it. Bitch, I hate you. I went up to Mark and apologized for her rude behaviour. She continued to be foul while I worked with the guy pumping us out and my wife cleaned up out front and in the boathouse. Then while I'm finishing the blocks by the boathouse door she starts telling me that what I was doing was not what she was thinking and that she envisioned more etc. I told her that she should tell me what she wants and I would do it. She spit back that she didn't care any more. I wanted so bad to ask her why the fuck she was there at all. Almost bit my tongue off not saying it. So yet again what I've done is not good enough. Then shortly after me having a huge shouting match with the owner of Gimli Septic over the price which has mysteriously jumped by 55.00 since I made the booking half a week ago, she points to the wood pile and says "that's the pile that I want cleaned up, it looks like a garbage dump." I said that yes I would clean it up but probably not this weekend with everything else that was going on. Again I got the "I don't care any more what you do with this place." So I asked her why then she was intent on telling what to do to which she replied that she wasn't and that all she said was that the pile looked like a garbage heap. Stupid bitch doesn't even know what's she's saying and when! I realize that as usual there is no point to this conversation and just go back to what I was doing. Bitch!
Then they leave and my wife and I decompress from her evil puke. We both have sort of come to the realization that this has become a bad place for us. It is neither relaxing nor enjoyable. The whole strip is full of a bunch of repressed, damaged families that have some how managed to pass that bullshit down to the next generation. Our neighbours have it with there family who actually own the cottage they stay in. It's like fun has been disallowed. We can do better than that even with our crappy camper. Some day we'll be in a position to buy our own place and it will all start with the portion of this place that comes to me. The stress of being yanked around by the bitch is becoming to much and to damaging for any of us. My kids are starting to clue in more and more and they definitely know when there is tension, rage and extreme sadness; all present during the past little while. If I had a way of asking my father to do one last thing it would be to come and take her away. Away from here, away from this earth, gone from my memory forever.
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